Sweet Rome (Sweet Home)

by Tillie Cole

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” I snapped out, now scared out of mind and pissed that she would keep something as important as her health a secret from me.

  “I found out today why,” she said almost inaudibly.

  “And… what’s wrong?”

  “I’m… I’m…”

  Fuck me, I was going to explode!

  Gripping her harder around the waist, I shouted, “Christ! You’re what, Mol?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

  Golden eyes lowered, and my pulse took off like a hummingbird.

  Pregnant. Shit, a baby. I was going to be a daddy?

  “You’re pregnant?” I stared at her in disbelief, feeling like every drop of blood had just drained from my body.

  My girl seemed to have turned into a friggin’ mute, so I flipped our positions, putting me on top. “You’re pregnant?” I asked again and watched Mol’s eyes well up.

  “Yes, I’m pregnant, Romeo. I’m pregnant with your baby.” Each word was like a punch.

  Sitting up, I stared at the white wall before closing my eyes, lost in my thoughts. How would this work? Would Molly be able to finish her master’s? Would it be the end of her education? Where would we live? I was going to be a daddy… And slowly, I realized that the thought of that didn’t have me running for the hills like I’d always thought, but rather feeling so damn content I could barely breathe. I was having a baby with my girl.

  So many questions circled through my mind, too many to keep up with, and then my girl fucking froze me to the spot with one simple sentence. “I’ll make an appointment to see a doctor. I’ll just get rid of it immediately.”

  Glaring at Molly below me, I barked, “You’d kill our baby?”

  Bucking her body, trying to get up, Molly shouted, “Don’t get all high and mighty on me now! I don’t need to hear any moral shit! I’m trying to do the best thing for both of us. I’ll cope with whatever I have to do. If that means having an abortion, then that’s just what will have to happen. It doesn’t mean I want to go through with it!”

  “Then don’t, baby, please. Getting rid of it can’t be what you fuckin’ want.” No way was she killing our child. It was our child.

  “I don’t know what the hell I want!” she cried, the tears flowing once more. Shit. She was petrified, and I was being an ass.

  Leaning down, I ran my hands through her hair. “Well, I do.”

  Taking hold of my wrists, she searched my face before saying, “But… you…”

  “Jesus, I was shocked!” I cut in, shaking my head, then moving my hand to her stomach. “I’m still shocked, but that’s our baby in there. We made it together.”

  Desperate for her to understand, I pulled up her T-shirt and kissed along her stomach, stating, “And it’s not going anywhere. Promise me. I have real strong feelings about this, Mol. Don’t destroy our God-given angel.” Her silence almost killed me, but I had to make her understand how much this meant to me.

  “Promise me I have a say in this. Don’t have an abortion, please.” She couldn’t. God, I couldn’t see her go through that.

  I waited, barely breathing, pressing my forehead to her flat stomach until she whispered, “I promise.”

  Relief like nothing I’d felt before settled in my bones, and I moved back to take the lips of my girl… the mother of my child.

  As soon as our mouths meshed together, the same need that I always felt around my girl shot through my veins like a drug. Ridding Molly of her jeans, I freed myself and in seconds, plunged into her wet warmth.

  Wrapping her legs around my waist, Molly moaned into my ear, clawing at my back and murmuring my name.

  “I love you, Mol,” I said against her lips.

  Tears slipped from her eyes as I pushed into her slowly; she studied my face as I took her, unhurried and slow.

  We came together, holding hands, and I swear something within me changed right then. I realized I didn’t need the controlling fucking all the time with Mol; it could be different… I trusted her enough to relinquish my controlling tendencies.

  “That’s the softest you’ve ever made love to me. It felt so different,” Molly whispered into my hair falling over her face. Pulling back, our foreheads touched and she smiled. “I loved it.”

  “You’re carrying precious cargo now, baby. I need to be more careful with you… with you both.”

  A wave of happiness seemed to settle over us both and I sloped to the side, pulling my girl to face me, her eyes bigger than normal behind thick brown frames. I’d been so worried before I hadn’t even noticed that her contacts were gone.

  “You look like my old Mol with these glasses and your hair like that. The girl I looked at months ago, on her hands and knees, cussing in that fuckin’ hot accent in humanities block, wearing neon-orange shoes, and I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she would one day be mine.”

  “One day,” Mol teased with a smile, referring to my tattoo.

  Swallowing, I confided, “I always wondered if one day I’d have a family, if I’d ever be happy enough with someone… with myself, to have a child.” It was true, but with Molly by my side, the thought didn’t scare me quite so much.

  Reaching out and gripping my hand, panic set in Molly’s eyes and she admitted, “Romeo, I don’t think I can be a mother. We haven’t had normal families. We have no idea how to be in a normal family! How the hell can we bring up a child? We’re far too young. What do we have to offer a baby?”

  “Something we never had.” Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Listen to me. Together we can do it. Together we can do anything. We can be good parents.”

  “But your football…”

  “So what? I’ll get drafted in April and you’ll come with me, with our son or daughter. You can still do your PhD and achieve your dreams. We can have it all. Just please… don’t destroy our child, our first child.” I knew we could make it work if she would only let me try.

  “Rome—” She sighed, defeated.

  Shaking my head, I covered her mouth with my finger. “I could’ve been destroyed, but my birth mother didn’t. She had me.” I took her hand and laid it against my chest, right above my pounding heart. “I’m here because she chose me, even if she didn’t actually want me. Yeah, my family did a real number, but I got through it and it led me to you, my smart English girl—the girl that saved me. The girl who showed me how to love.”

  Her frown line softened and she said, sadly, “Your parents will think I’ve done it on purpose to trap you.”

  My parents.

  Shit. Just the mention of them had my protective instincts roaring into the stratosphere. “I don’t give a fuck what they’ll think. In fact, I’ve no intention of ever telling them. I was serious when we left their house that night. I’m done with them. You’re my life now; you’re my everything. You and our baby.”

  She simply nodded, but I couldn’t get the worry of my parents out of my head. I hadn’t heard from them for months. We’d broken all ties, but if they found out about Molly being pregnant, I didn’t know what they would do. If they would do anything. Maybe they wouldn’t; maybe they really were through with me…

  We couldn’t hide it. Hell, Shelly lived in this sorority house. It was rare that they were ever around one another, but they did bump into each other now and again, and when Mol was heavily pregnant, it was going to be kind of hard to ignore a huge belly. And that bitch would go straight and tell my folks. I had no doubt about that.

  I knew one thing, and that was that those sadistic fuckers wouldn’t get within a mile of my child; they would never get a chance to sink in their claws. A fleeting thought suddenly made me stiffen.

  Mol looked up and narrowed her eyes. “What? What is it?”

  Breathing deep, I asked, “What if I turn out like my folks? What if I’m ingrained to be a horrible father? You can’t fight genes, Mol. What if I’m like my daddy? What if I let our child down?”

  Pressing a kiss to my lips, Molly
pulled back, reassuring me. “You’ll be perfect.”

  “But you don’t know that, do you?” I argued, my stomach churning, a sickening fear taking root.

  Taking my hand and laying it flat to her stomach, she said softly, “I have also seen children successfully surmounting the effects of an evil inheritance. That is due to purity being an inherent attribute of the soul.”

  “Who said that?” I asked, the sincere sentiment from Molly’s lips meaning everything to me. She had complete and utter faith in me and anything I did.

  “Gandhi,” she announced and breaking a grin, play punched my shoulder. “And you call yourself a philosopher!”

  “Em, no, smartass. I take philosophy as a minor. I’m a business major… and a damn good one too.”

  “Whatever, not everyone can be as spectacular as me!” she quipped and then burst into fits of giggles.

  “Maybe not, and you’ll be a hell of a spectacular momma too.”

  “You really believe that?” she asked nervously.

  “With all my heart.”

  25

  “Is it done?” I asked Diana, the manager of the Tide club shop, as I entered.

  Face lighting up, she beamed. “Sure is, honey. It’s so damn cute I almost died!”

  Leaning on the counter, I waited as she disappeared out back, then came back holding it up proudly for me to see.

  “Jesus Christ,” I whispered, and pride burst into my chest.

  “Hey, no blaspheming!” Diana joked. “But yeah, I get why you said it. Adorable, ain’t it?”

  “It’s perfect,” I replied, pretty damn speechless.

  Wrapping it in tissue paper and putting it into a white gift box, she looked at me and asked, “So who’s this for, darlin’?”

  “A relative,” I answered, not even missing a beat. No one could know yet.

  Smiling wide, she giggled. “Well, you’ll be their favorite person in the whole damn world giving them a gift as good as this!”

  “Yeah, hope so.”

  Taking the gift box and hiding it in the back of my truck, I pulled out onto the road to pick up my girl. It’d taken a few weeks to get the appointment, but I’d secured the best ob-gyn in all of Tuscaloosa, and we were heading there now for our first appointment.

  We’d been advised to come in early due to Molly’s momma’s condition. Hearing that conversation on our initial meeting with the GP nearly had me going insane. As if the worry of my parents finding out about our little angel wasn’t enough, finding out that Molly’s momma died of something called severe preeclampsia almost had me collapsing to the floor. We’d been advised to choose an ob-gyn as soon as possible due to this, and Dr. Adams had requested an appointment immediately.

  Fucking preeclampsia—just one more worry to add to the already sky-high pile.

  I knocked on Mol’s front door and she answered with a nervous smile and immediately moved in for a hug.

  “You okay, baby?” I asked, rubbing her back.

  Looking up, she answered, “Just nervous, I guess.”

  Holding out my hand, I tipped my head toward the truck. “Let’s go.”

  “You must be Molly. I’m Dr. Adams.” He introduced himself, standing to greet us.

  “Nice to meet you, Dr. Adams.” Molly shook his hand and turned to me, laying a hand on my arm. “This is my boyfriend, Romeo.”

  The doctor sent me a huge smile and shook my hand, saying, “Nice to meet you, Bullet. I’m a big fan—season ticket holder.”

  “And I recognize your face, Miss Shakespeare. The good luck charm that’s going to help Bullet here lead us to the championship again.”

  I watched Mol blush, still hating the attention, and I pulled her into my chest. “She sure is. Thank you, sir.”

  And then he asked the one question I really didn’t want him to. “Any news on the draft? Seattle Seahawks are dying this season. Their quarterback was forced to retire early through injury, and you’re a sure win for first draft.”

  I flashed a panicked glance to Mol. The day I’d learned Seattle was looking like an option, Molly found out we were pregnant, and I hadn’t dared bring it up with her since. I wasn’t sure what my future held for us now. We hadn’t even talked about our next step beyond making sure she and our baby were healthy.

  Shifting uncomfortably, I answered, “I know as much as you, sir, but from what I’ve been hearing from my coaches, Seattle is a big possibility for me.”

  We sat down, and I got the meaning of Molly’s long hand squeeze. We would be talking about Seattle later—great.

  “Okay, you two, let’s meet your baby,” Dr. Adams said excitedly.

  When the time came for the sonogram, I swear I’d never been more nervous for anything in my life. The doc inserted a long camera-looking thing inside my girl and she gripped onto my hand, squeezing it like a vise as I pressed kisses along her fingers.

  When a tiny picture appeared on the screen beside Molly’s head, all the breath left my body. I felt Molly stiffen and once again tighten her grip on my hand, but I couldn’t speak. I don’t know what the hell happened in that moment, but the stark realization that what I was looking at was a baby my girl and I created was life changing.

  I loved Molly more than anything and often wondered if anything else in my life would ever come close to how I felt for her, but seeing our baby, hearing its tiny heartbeat, I realized I could love another in an entirely different way. The man who never thought he would ever love anyone, was incapable of such an emotion, right here in this room held the hand of the woman who’d not only opened his eyes and heart, but was also gifting him with the perfect unison of us both: a child.

  Feeling wetness on my cheek, I realized I was crying, and for the first time ever, it was in happiness.

  “Everything looks great and it measures as though you are… about… ah… about eight weeks along,” Dr. Adams said, interrupting my fixation on the screen.

  Seven months. In seven months we would have a little one of our own.

  Dr. Adams passed Molly a picture of the sonogram, and standing up, I kissed her head, watching her staring, disbelieving, at our little angel. Turning to me, she smiled and placed the Polaroid on the bed beside her. She got that I was spellbound by everything happening lately, and as always, she put me first, knowing I needed to see that picture. It was the security that my life was now infinitely better.

  “You can get dressed now, Molly, and we’ll see you again in about two months unless you experience any of the problems we discussed. If so, you need to come straight back.” High blood pressure, dizziness, extreme swelling, severe headaches, abdominal pain, blurred vision… Fuck me, the list seemed endless. I knew I’d become an overbearing dick, but shit, there was no way I was losing the two most precious things in my life. I’d never forgive myself if I did.

  “Can we find out the sex, then?” Molly asked quietly.

  “Hopefully,” the doctor replied and slapped my back, forcing me to look up from the tiny image of our baby. “Congratulations, son, I’ll see you at the championship in Georgia and Roll Tide!”

  “Roll Tide,” I croaked out.

  Dr. Adams left, and Molly put the picture in my hand before shuffling to get off the bed.

  As I watched her contented face, a small, happy smile still there on her lips, I just needed to hold her. Picking her up in my arms, I crushed her to my chest, just breathing in her vanilla scent.

  “Romeo what—” she asked.

  “Thank you, Mol. Just… thank you…” I said and, wrapping her hands around my neck in response, she whispered, “Thank you, too.”

  An hour later, we were back in Molly’s room and I ran her a bath. I took advantage of the time alone and went back out to my truck, retrieving the gift, and laid the white box on the bed.

  A short while later, the bathroom door creaked open and Molly came out in my favorite purple nightdress. She looked beautiful with her long, wet hair hanging low and her glasses firmly on her nose. She frowned when
she caught sight of the box.

  “What’s that?”

  “A present,” I answered proudly. Molly eyed me skeptically and moved to the bed, sitting down beside me.

  “What is it?” she asked, running her finger over the lid.

  “Open it.”

  Shaking her head and giggling, she opened the box slowly, so delicately that I felt like ripping it open for her. My heart sank when I realized she probably hadn’t been given gifts too often, and I made a mental note to rectify that fact.

  Peeling back the white tissue paper, her hand went to her mouth. “Rome…”

  “What do you think?” I asked, seeing the tears in her eyes.

  She loved it.

  Lifting the tiny Tide jersey from the box, she studied the front, then turned it around, whispering, “Prince, number seven.”

  “I know it’s apparently bad luck before the end of the first trimester to buy things, you know, because things are still fragile, but I thought one small gift wouldn’t hurt.”

  Pressing the tiny crimson jersey to her chest, she looked up at me and crawled forward, leaning down and kissing me softly on my lips.

  Breaking away and studying the jersey once more, she looked me dead in the eyes and whispered, “We’re going to be parents, Rome…”

  Smiling, I tackled her gently to the bed, tapping her nose. “Damn good ones too… and I can’t fuckin’ wait.”

  Losing her smile, she stared down at the bed and asked, “Seattle?”

  My heart faltered. “Maybe.” Lifting her chin with my finger, I said, “Hey, look at me.” She did as I asked and I said, “You’re used to rain, right, you know, being from England?”

  Cracking a smile, she blushed, saying, “Romeo Prince, are you asking me to come to Seattle with you?”

  “I’m asking you to come with me wherever I get drafted. It’s you and me, baby.”

  Tilting her head, she corrected, “No, it’s you, me, and our angel.”

  Raising my eyebrow, I joked, “The Shakespeare/Prince Trifecta?”

  Laughing loudly, she agreed, “The Shakespeare/Prince Trifecta.”

  Shuffling to Molly’s stomach, I whispered, “You hear that, angel? You’ve officially made the coolest gang in all ’a Bama!”