Page 51 of One More Chance
I stared at her as my heart beat faster. "Tell me what?”
Her gaze found mine. “Levi… I’m pregnant.”
Everything in me went still. The walls, the floor, my body, it all blurred as if the world had tilted on its axis. Gravity didn't exist.
Well, fuck me. Getting that vasectomy is pointless now.
I swallowed. “How far along…?”
She grimaced. “Weeks. I was hoping maybe it was the flu, but… I'm definitely pregnant."
"Weeks," I repeated. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Levi. I'm sure. After the awful fight we had over you missing Liam's birthday party? I think it was after that fight… that must’ve been when it happened.”
Our last toxic rage fuck.
How in the hell am I this fucking stupid? Obviously, she was already pregnant by the time I came back in this life.
I tried to defend myself for failing to do the mental math: I was operating off of twelve year old memories from a stressful time of my previous life; I was worried about the impending pandemic; I was focused on groveling my way back into Sloane's life; then Angie hadturned into a fucking creepy, ever-present, boogeyman. It was not an exaggeration to say that I'd had a lot on my mind.
But still… I felt like the biggest fucking idiot on earth in that moment.
I nodded as her words squeezed the air from my lungs. I struggled with what to say next, but it was my wife who broke the silence: my beautiful, snarky, sarcastic wife.
“We’d always been trying for a third,” she said with an irreverent smirk.
I laughed because it was true. We’d dreamed of a big, loud house filled with little feet and crayon-covered walls. We never used condoms because… well, between the struggle to conceive and our shared hope, it had never seemed necessary. And now? Now it felt like another thread tangled in the knot I’d created.
I ran a hand through my hair as my guilt crushed me. “Yeah, a third and a fourth and a fifth… we dreamed big."
She didn’t say anything as she stared at a fixed spot on the wall, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were already protecting the baby.
While I stared at her, memories from my previous life assaulted me. How our divorce had dragged out because of this exact pregnancy. How the virus ravaged the country that winter, killing hundreds of thousands before Christmas. How Sloane had miscarried in a hospital bed, alone, while her sister stayed home with the kids.
And what was the Old Me doing? Oh, he was down in Key West, trying and failing to keep his development project together. He'd chosen to chase money instead of hold Sloane's hand. The entire country had been shut down and quarantined, so the Old Me couldn't have driven home to Sloane if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't. He was too busyfucking Angie, lying to himself that he could drown his self-hatred between her legs.
I let out a stuttering breath. “Fuck me, Sloane. I feel like an idiot for not connecting the dots sooner. If I’d slowed down. If I’d been paying closer attention…”
She glanced at me, the smirk on her face still there. “If you’d done emotional yoga sooner?”
"Yeah, if only I had."
Sloane’s breathing steadied. She didn't see me spiraling, but I felt the clock ticking faster than I wanted it to.
I refused to lose sight of what the Old Me had been too blind to see. This time, I would not lose Violet or Liam. I would not lose Sloane. I would not lose this baby. Not again.
“Okay,” I said.
Sloane blinked and her wry smirk turned into a look of shock. “Okay? That’s it?”
“No,” I said as I stepped closer to her. “It’s not just okay. It’s everything.And if you’ll let me, I will be here for every second of it. The morning sickness, the cravings, the uncertainty, the fear. All of it.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. You and the kids are my everything Sloane. This new addition… this doesn’t change that. If anything, it reminds me how much I still want this. All of it. Us.”
Her bottom lip trembled and she looked away.
