Page 112 of Rise & Fall

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Page 112 of Rise & Fall

But what if I want it to be something? What if the idea of Dakota having my kid excites me? Sure, having another baby at the age of thirty-six is a tad terrifying. Though, again, everything happens for a reason.

Aria lets go of my hands and both girls crash on the floor sighing a big breath of air before giggling on their backs.

I take this moment to peek back down the hallway again. She’s still in the bathroom.

I check my watch. It’s been more than three minutes.

“I’m gonna take the girls to the back for the pinata. Wanna join?” Dexter asks me as he carries a giant giraffe pinata in his hands, the girls cheering behind him.

Lori gets up to follow him outside, but I really just want to talk to Dakota. I didn’t even get to hear about her dress fitting.

“I think I’m gonna check on Dakota first,” I say, and they leave through the sliding glass door.

I pace through the hallway, trying to decide if I should knock or wait.

My heart is beating, like it’s trying to escape its chambers.

Finally, I decide to find the courage to form a fist. I slowly bring it to the wood of the door and take a deep breath before bringing it down to knock.

But right as my knuckles are about to rap against the wood, the door opens and I’m met with Dakota who’s standing in the doorframe, a little white stick in her hand.

I look at her face first, tears threatening the corners of her eyes as she focuses on the test she’s holding in her hands. Then I look down, realizing that I don’t need to be worried about a plus sign, or a negative one at that.

No.

This.

This is clear as day.

Plain and simple.

This is bold.

One thing.

One word.

Dakota turns the stick to face me so that I can see the clarity of it in better lighting.

She places the stick in my hand, the hesitation present in the way I’m shaking. Out of which emotion, I’m not sure.

But I know it’s something warm and inviting, like this is what it’s supposed to feel like when you read that one word.

Pregnant.

I look back up to Dakota, her face seeming shocked, broken, and hopeful all at once.

She moves her gaze slowly from the stick to my eyes and a single tear breaks free at the same time as she shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, happy birthday to me.”

thirty-six

Dakota

Istareatthestick in Nolan’s hand. This isn’t real.

I had my Uber driver make a detour to stop at the store, I needed to eliminate the question and the only way to do that was to get the damn test and give myself the answer.




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