Melissa glances between us and starts wiping the gel off Brittney. "I should, um, give you folks some privacy. You okay, hon?" she asks Brittney who nods as she wipes tears off her cheeks. "Okay then, take all the time you need. When I come back, we’ll determine the sex of the baby, okay?"
“I’d like that.” Brittney draws a shaky breath as she pulls her shirt over her stomach.
The door closes behind Melissa with a soft click, leaving the three of us alone.
Brittney stares at the ultrasound screen, fresh tears streaming down her face. They're the tears of someone who knows her world just changed. I get it. I was prepared to feel all of that and now I don’t.
I’m relieved. So relieved it’s not my kid, but I can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
Kinsley shifts in her chair beside me, and when I glance at her, there's understanding in her face. She gets it too. She’d said she would love this baby, and I can’t help but wonder if she feels something of a loss right now.
"Brittney," she says. "This can't keep going."
Brittney doesn't look away from the screen. Her fingers grip the edge of the table like she's trying to hold onto something that's already slipping away.
"I know you're scared," Kinsley continues, and there's no judgment in her tone, no anger, just kindness and patience, "but this baby deserves the truth. You deserve the truth. And so does Wyatt."
I want to say something, but the words stick in my throat. This isn't how I expected this to go. I thought there'd be shouting, accusations, denials. Instead, Kinsley's treating Brittney like she's a hurting mother facing hard choices. Maybe she sees her own mother on that table right now. A single woman who has to face the world alone.
"You don't understand," Brittney whispers, still staring at that screen.
"Then help me understand." Kinsley leans forward slightly, not crowding her but close enough to show she's not going anywhere. "Talk to me. What's really happening here?"
"My father," Brittney finally says, so quiet I almost miss it.
"What about him?" Kinsley prompts.
Brittney's breathing gets shallow, quick. "First–he arranged for me to win the date with Wyatt. I tried to tell him we didn’t fall in love or anything and that Wyatt wasn’t interested, but he wouldn't listen. He thinks me marrying a rodeo cowboy will improve his chances of becoming governor."
"Brittney." Kinsley's voice is even gentler now. "Is this baby Wyatt's?"
I know the answer. I know the dates don’t line up. I also know that a recorded confession will clear my name in the media, and it’ll clear my conscience. We need Brittney to say the words for the record.
Brittney shakes her head. Smallat first, then more definite, and the relief that hits me nearly knocks me out of my chair.
"We never..." she starts, then stops, swallowing hard. "I barely got him in the room," she continues, the words tumbling out now. "I helped him get settled, stayed to make sure he was all right. But we never... I just needed my father to believe that we had."
She's crying harder now, and despite everything she's put us through, I feel bad for the spot she’s in. It couldn’t have been easy realizing she was carrying a child.
"I thought if I could just make it real somehow, if I could make the story true, then it would all be okay." The word comes out broken.
"We're done here," I tell her, standing up. I can't find it in me to be cruel. Brittney made terrible choices, but she's still carrying a child who doesn't deserve to pay for her mistakes. "But that little one in there deserves the truth and a chance at a real family. I hope you can give them that."
We walk out into the hallway, leaving Brittney alone with the consequences of her choices. Melissa hurries back inside. “Are you ready to find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” she says before the door shuts. Bless her for trying to put a happy spin on the moment.
I collapse against the wall. The fluorescent lights are too bright after the dim ultrasound room, and I have to blink a few times before I can focus on Kinsley's face.
"You okay?" she asks, leaning into me and studying my expression.
"Yeah." I hook my fingers in her belt loops and pull her closer. "For a minute there, when I saw the baby on thescreen, I thought... if it had been mine, I would have moved heaven and earth for that kid."
"I know you would have." Her hand rests against my chest, right over my heart. "That's who you are."
"Someday, I want that. The whole thing. Marriage, kids, all of it." I look down at her—this woman who stood by me when my world went to pieces. "I want to raise kids with you, Kinsley."
Her smile could light up the whole county. "You asking?"
"I'm asking if you want children. If that's part of what you see ahead."