Thank you so much for your amazing support! Ready for the angst?
"Aunty Cla!" Melody Pond shrieked when she saw her beloved aunt in the hallway. The two-year-old ran to Clara as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.
"Hello, Melody," she said before her husband scooped the little girl up into his arms.
John grinned at the toddler. "Are you really Melody - you've grown a lot since I last saw you."
"Uncle John!"
"Well, well, well," Amy chided as she set a stack of plates on the table, situated in the middle of the living room. "Look who's finally here – the sickeningly sweet couple."
Clara hugged her best friend after setting aside the present she held. "You're never going to get tired of calling us that, are you?"
The lawyer shrugged innocently. "Never - make yourselves at home – Rory!"
"Yes, I'm just making sure the ice-cream cake doesn't melt," he replied from the kitchen.
"Cake, cake, cake!" Melody exclaimed when she heard her father mention it. John immediately handed her to Clara who was now seated on the sofa.
"You'll get it to eat it very soon," the author said, the toddler now squirming a bit and reaching out her arms to her mother.
"Melody Pond, behave yourself," Amy murmured. Her child now sat between the two women.
"Do you need any help?" John asked as he now awkwardly stood in the centre of the room.
"No, that was the only thing I needed to do," Rory insisted as he entered the living room. The two men shook hands.
While the adults were chatting, Melody's inquisitive eyes stared at her aunt's swollen belly. She had never seen her like that before, which prompted her to ask the question, "Why big?".
"Your Aunty Clara is pregnant," Amy told her daughter.
The two-year-old stared at her mother her before her gaze returned to her aunt.
"I have a baby inside here," Clara explained, rubbing her stomach, which caused Melody's eyes to widen.
John watched as his wife patiently answered all of the toddler's questions from the hallway, a bottle of beer in one hand.
Rory, on the other hand, smiled. "Kids are very curious aren't they," he stated.
"They are, but I think Melody is extra curious," John replied, eyes never leaving his wife. A small smile was playing on his lips. God, he absolutely loves her and their child she's carrying.
"Trust me, she asks about everything and gets even more talkative when her grandad's around."
John imagined that their child will be just as curious, especially if he or she ends up inheriting Clara's attitude. He didn't mind if it's going to be a boy or girl for as long as the baby is healthy. That was all that mattered. Oh, and he secretly hopes the child would look more like their mother since he doesn't want the poor kid to end up with his bushy, expressive eyebrows or nose that sticks out.
Clara had told him countless times that she finds him handsome, but he was sure she was saying that to boost his confidence a bit.
His wife glanced to her right and caught him staring at her and she immediately smiled.
"You two really can't get your eyes off each for a second, can you?" Amy teased, causing the couple to blush.
At that moment, the front door clicked open and Brian Williams stepped inside, one hand carrying a paper bag. "I got the balloons!" he announced triumphantly.
With the little incident now forgotten as Melody climbed down the sofa and ran to her grandfather, John finally relaxed a bit.
The house was eventually filled with more friends and family members, and the birthday girl got more and more excited as the presents kept piling up on the table by the corner.
A little over two hours later, John and Clara Smith were back home.
"Did you see how excited she was when she saw the archaeology set we got her," Clara commented as she entered the kitchen and got herself a glass of water.
"I think you owe me a kiss for winning the bet," John replied, grinning from ear to ear.
His wife gave an innocent look. "Did we really have a bet?"
"We did – you wanted to buy Melody that playdough set, remember?" he reminded her, a wide smile still plastered on his face.
"Wasn't it the other way around?"
He raised both eyebrows in surprise and she finally laughed. Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket before she crushed her lips against his. "I was just pulling your leg a bit."
"Who would have thought," he muttered and bent down to capture her lips.
"Oh, and don't forget about Friday's appointment," she reminded him once they pulled away.
He had unfortunately missed the two previous appointment due to work commitments and Clara hopes that he wouldn't miss the third one. She understood that her husband is a busy man, but there was a voice at the back of her head which told her he was still scared at the prospect of becoming a parent, that he would be a rubbish one who didn't love his child. Maybe the irrationality was due to the hormones since he's just as excited as she is. At least in her presence.
"I won't," he murmured. He couldn't promise her that he wouldn't be swept away to another emergency operation, but he had cleared his schedule for Friday evening.
It had been three months since he had last seen his father and despite knowing and being told he was a much better man than Jeremy Smith, John still had his doubts. The more time passed, the closer he was to becoming a father.
The surgeon was snapped out of his thoughts when his wife placed a hand on his cheek. "Hey, I know it's scary, but it's also exciting… no one said this is going to be easy, but I'm sure we'll pull through – you'll pull through."
Finally, he smiled. John pecked Clara on the lips before he bent down and kissed her belly. "Thank you."
The day had been quite mundane so far. John Smith had done his rounds, the patients were all fine and the junior doctors weren't having any issues dealing with their tasks. It was all going smoothly. On top of that, his wife has an appointment with Martha in less than five minutes and they were going to see if they're expecting a boy or a girl.
A small smile formed on his lips. Clara hadn't been able to stop talking about it since yesterday and she would surely start thinking of names after the ultrasound.
Just then, the phone in his pocket vibrated and he knew that his wife was probably waiting for him. He checked the message and she had told him she would be waiting on the 5th floor so he wouldn't have to pick her up downstairs. Fair enough.
The surgeon checked the time again before he got on his feet and grabbed his jacket before leaving the office. He wanted to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria first.
As John made his way past the main lobby, several people rushed past him, including his colleague, Wilfred Mott. He could see that there was a group of people gathered in the main lobby and it piqued his curiosity.
"He just collapsed a moment ago," a woman said as John made his way past the crowd.
"He's going into cardiac arrest," Wilfred announced.
John froze in his spot when he saw the old man lying on the floor. He nearly dropped his coffee when Jeremy made eye contact and reached out a hand.
It took him a second to regain his composure. "What's going on?" he asked, ignoring his father who tried to grab his arm and rushing to his colleague's side.
"Heart attack, it's definitely a heart attack," Wilfred replied as Jeremy was put on a stretcher. It was then he saw the recognition in John's eyes. "Do you know him?"
John was silent for a moment but never got the chance to answer his friend's question as his father was wheeled away, Wilfred following them.
Eventually, the crowd dispersed, but the surgeon remained still in the centre. What had just happened?
He was snapped out of his thoughts when his phone vibrated once again. Clara. The appointment. He quickly made his way to the lift and stepped inside. Less than two minutes later, he stormed into Martha' office, almost spilling his coffee.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, taking a seat next to his wife.
The two women were startled by his sudden appearance.
"We thought you had an emergency," Clara murmured. "You didn't answer your phone."
The appointment had started twenty minutes ago. She was so sure that her husband had missed another appointment and he wouldn't be able to find out about their baby together.
John opened to speak but decided to let it go. He could explain to her why he had been running late after the sonogram. "Sorry, I went downstairs to get coffee," he said, holding up the cup.
Martha then got down to business. "As we were discussing earlier," she stated. "I'm confident we'll be able to tell the gender of the baby this time."
"Great."
A few minutes later, Clara was lying on a bed while Martha began the ultrasound scan. An image on the screen appeared and they were greeted by the sight of the baby.
The obstetrician suddenly smiled.
The fact that she hadn't said anything made John feel even more anxious. "Well?"
"Please tell me the baby isn't giving you a hard time again," Clara said.
Martha turned away from the monitor to look at the couple. "Congratulations, you're having a boy!"
Clara squealed in happiness and squeezed John's hand. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "I knew it was going to be a boy."
John, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, staring back and forth between the monitor and his wife.
"Yeah, you're definitely getting a baby boy."
"I'm going to be making so many phone calls today," Clara commented, beaming. "I can just imagine Nan's reaction."
John chuckled, kissing Clara's hair. "I'm sure she'll be over the moon."
"And mum, too!"
"So why were you late to the appointment today?" Clara asked as she settled in bed, next to her husband.
John continued to flick through the channels. He knew the conversation was coming and had been preparing himself for it. He licked his lips before muting the TV and turning to her.
"I left the office to get coffee at the cafeteria before the appointment," he began, running a hand through his silver curls.
"Go on," she replied, eyes fixed on the copy of the ultrasound.
"Um… on my way upstairs, a man suffered a heart attack," he continued.
The moment she heard 'heart attack', Clara lowered the photograph, uncertainty in her eyes.
"Wilfred was already there and when I got past the crowd… it turned out to be dad."
Clara blinked once. Twice. "And you're only telling me this now?" she asked quietly. "Were you ever going to mention this?"
He remained silent, a pair of cold eyes staring at her before he looked away.
"Did you ever intend on helping him?"
"Wilfred was there-"
"I don't care about anyone else – I'm asking if you would have helped him!" Clara snapped.
He couldn't make eye contact with her. John wasn't sure. The doctor in him would but as John Smith? It was difficult to tell.
"Where is he now?"
"At the hospital, I'm sure they've put him in ICU," he answered, the image of his father reaching out to him flashing in his mind.
"Would you have helped him if Wilfred wasn't there?"
It took him a while to answer. "I don't know."
Suddenly, Clara threw away the covers and climbed out of bed.
"Where are you going?" he asked, doing the same.
"I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom."
"What?" he asked. "Are you mad at me because my father had a heart attack and I wasn't the first one to help him?"
She turned around, placing a hand on her belly. "I'm mad at you for being a coward – he may have been a rubbish father, but he's still a human being."
He stared at her with a neutral expression on his face. "You have no idea what I've been through – he was a selfish, abusive and unloving father!" he roared, causing his wife to flinch.
Clara could feel the tears prickling her eyes, so she silently turned around and made her way to the guest bedroom.
John hadn't meant to yell at her. It just happened. He had no control over it. "Clara," he began, following her. "I'm sorry."
"Don't, I'd rather not look at you now," she said before slamming the door in his face.
He lowered his head and leaned his forehead against the door as his wife began sobbing on the other side. She was in no condition to hear any of his apologies, so John returned to the bedroom, shoulders slumped.
He paced around the bedroom, hands turned to fists. This wasn't how he imagined it would turn out. Damn his father for coming back to his life. If he thinks all will be forgiven just because he suffered a stroke, he was wrong.
Damn his father for ruining a happy day.
John exhaled through his mouth, fighting back the tears. He had upset his wife and he had acted selfishly instead of helping a sick old man. "Fuck!" he roared, pulling his hair.
Instead of celebrating that they were going to have a baby boy, they were having another argument. The day had turned sour very quickly.