A/N: THANK YOU to all who are still hanging with me on this story!! I know it's been a while since I posted a chapter, for which I am sincerely sorry. One move/crazy summer/start of a new school year later, here it is! Two chapters today and hard at work on another. Thanks again!

Wynn

I watch as my pen balances precariously on the tip of my finger while today's trigonometry substitute battles unsuccessfully against the antiquated VCR this fine establishment has cursed her with. School is about the last place I want to be right now with my growing belly and irritable mood, but I promised Cole I'd see it through.

He's right to encourage me to finish, of course, but that doesn't make the ceaseless gossip or the blabbering of my teachers any more tolerable. Colby helps, and without her and the ridiculous antics of Wyatt and his merry men, Cole would have better luck winning the lottery than getting me to finish out senior year.

I get it. I know there will be more opportunities available to us if I continue my education, so I'll grit my teeth and roll my eyes until that damn diploma is in my swollen little hands.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how much this teetering pen and I have in common. My cousin once described it as a tightrope of doom that we all walk as teenagers. We either make it across the fine wire, or we dive headfirst into a fiery pit of failure and regret. Surviving the metaphorical feat doesn't mean we won't have blisters and bruises once we reach our target-maybe some of us even dangled by a pinky every now and then-but it does mean we somehow managed to tough it out. Goodness knows we're stronger for it in the end.

I sigh, letting the pen fall to my desk as I stifle a yawn of excruciating disinterest. While pregnancy may be making me more insightful, school is still dull as hell.

With the help of our resident suck up, Avalon, the TV comes to life with a black and white film that makes my stomach turn. Something about knowing the entire cast has long since died hasn't ever set well with me. The sub shuts the lights off, so I fold my arms into a makeshift pillow and settle in for a much needed nap.

My insides begin protesting as I do my best to doze off, but the discomfort is relentless. Slouching into my chair, I press my palm to my belly, realizing that the sensation I'm experiencing isn't only the cafeteria cuisine struggling its way through my body...

A flutter of tiny life ripples within me, and I relish the feeling that's becoming increasingly familiar. For months I waited to feel our baby moving and shifting, but experiencing it is beyond anything I could've imagined.

She flips and flops more frequently with each passing day. I can't feel it outwardly yet, but she's definitely making herself known in there, bringing about simultaneous queasiness and euphoria. It's like a tiny sardine squirming around deep within me, and as the movement continues, I think the nausea may be overpowering the thrill of it all.

I raise my hand, anxious for a hall pass and some fresh air, when I decide I can't take it any longer. Scooping my belongings into my arms, I excuse myself before the substitute even notices me and head for the exit.

I reach my car and send off a couple of texts to Cole and Colby, letting them know I'm headed home. I can already sense their unified skepticism through my screen as I toss it onto the passenger's seat, but hey, this time the excuse is legit. It was either puke in class while watching dead people overact, or drive home and vomit more comfortably on my own linoleum bathroom floor.

The choice was obvious.

My phone begins buzzing as I start my car, Cole's image lighting its face. He never completed his response to my text, but I watched as he typed and erased his message no fewer than five times before giving up.

"Hey, Galloway." I roll down the windows as I drive out of the parking lot, the breeze bringing a welcome relief and somewhat calming the chaos churning inside of me.

"Are you alright?" he mumbles, his voice low and full of concern.

"I'm fine. The baby's moving around a lot and she seems to be enjoying making me nauseous." I readjust my seat, easing my current state of discomfort, all the while enjoying Cole's quiet chuckling at my predicament. He's been incredibly supportive, even though he can't possibly comprehend what I've been dealing with. I'm surprised to hear Mr. Gonzalez in the background, continuing whatever lesson he's planned for the day. "You're calling from class? Cole Galloway breaking the rules for little old me... I'm flattered."

"You should be. I'm risking my neck here for you, Nono."

"Don't get caught. And thanks for checking on me, but I'm oof-" An intense spasm brings me up short, and I wince from the pain, sucking in a sharp breath and willing my abdomen to chill the eff out to no avail.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Cole demands at full volume.

"Am I interrupting something, Mr. Galloway?"

Damn. The muffled voice of a perturbed educator brings me to my senses and I exhale as the stabbing pang subsides.

"I'm alright, and I'll see you at home. Love you." I hang up, hopeful that his devotion to his wife won't result in detention. He's charming enough to worm his way out of it, if need be.

The joys of high school marriage.

I make my way home, but I'm still unnerved by the cramping. It can't be a contraction-not yet. At least I wouldn't think so, but what do I know, anyway? I thought using protection prevented babies, and here I am months later with a husband and a baking bun.

I decide to call my doctor when I get home, but I'm hitting all the red lights in Tyler. One block from our complex, my belly constricts again. The feeling is reminiscent of menstrual cramping, but far more intense. Tears blur my vision as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, willing the discomfort to ease away. Having finally reached our complex, I bury my face in my hands. My tears aren't for myself or because of the pain. I'm just scared out of my mind for our baby.

Part of me wants to go straight to my bed and pretend this isn't happening, but sticking my head in the sand isn't the answer. The unpleasant sensation takes a back seat to confusion when I climb out of my car and approach our apartment. The front door is wide open, and a man I've never seen before enters without hesitation. I stand frozen in place, preparing to call the police when I hear a familiar voice thanking him from inside our unit.

Dialing the cops would certainly be the smarter response considering the owner of that masculine tone, but seconds later I'm standing in the doorway looking Harris Galloway dead in the eyes.

"What are you doing here?" I challenge, sounding far bolder than I actually feel.

"I'm sorry, Wynona. I didn't mean to startle you." He rests an outstretched hand comfortingly on my shoulder, and I recoil at his touch even though I know things have improved between him and Cole. I guess I haven't fully accepted this new version of the man I'd come to despise so deeply.

"I thought I still had a few hours before either of you would get home. I'd intended for this to be a surprise." He glances over his shoulder at the crew of workers he's let into our home and I follow his gaze, taking in the transformed space before me.

I brush by him, trying to grasp what's happening around me. The ghetto little apartment I left this morning received a visit from a stinking rich fairy grandfather, having been made over into something far more stunning than Cole and I ever could've afforded on our own.

Brand new furniture fills our living room with a gorgeous rug covering the stained floor and décor that suits us both perfectly. Tucked into the corner I spot the crib of our dreams, the same one we'd reluctantly returned, and the way Harris' little team set it up makes it seem as though that corner is its own room entirely. Complete with a small changing table and rocking chair, our need for a place for our baby has been met more beautifully than I dared to dream.

"You... you did all of this for us?" I manage, turning to face him.

He grins, resembling his son so closely that I can't help but return his smile. "I hope you like it. The last thing I want to do is intrude, but Taylor shared with me that you and Cole hadn't been able... rather... haven't had the opportunity to get your place together, and I wanted to help."

"I know that you're aware of how I've failed my family, and I'll never be able to change the man I was, but I hope you believe me when I tell you how much I'd like to start over." I don't miss the hint of insecurity lacing his tone as he looks around the room, sadness veiling his pale eyes. "Please accept this offering as a wedding gift, and more importantly, as an apology. It'll never be enough, but it's a start."

I've hated this man for years and cursed him for hurting his son for so long, but there's no mistaking the desperation within his words. I'm inclined to believe him and that alone has me questioning my sanity.

Without warning, another cramp seizes my abdomen and before I can cover my pain, Harris is at my side with his arm around me.

"I'm okay," I say as he looks me over suspiciously. "Seriously. I think I just need to sit down."

He walks me to the couch like the perfect gentleman I've always seen him portray himself to be, only it seems that it may come more naturally than I'd ever realized. Once I'm seated, he makes his way to the kitchen where I hear water flowing from the faucet.

"Drink this," he urges, handing me a glass of cool water.

Even our drinking glasses are new.

"Thank you, Mr. Galloway." I take a sip as he watches me closely.

"It's nothing, and please, call me Harris. We're family now."

"Fine then, Harris. I mean it though. Thank you. Not only for the water... what you've done for us is incredible, and I ohh-"

My insides contract yet again, and Harris is on his feet watching as I try to fight through the spasm.

"We need to get you to a doctor," he asserts, and I don't object.

"Yes," I hiss, my voice tight with uncertainty. He offers me his hand, helping me to my feet and out to his car.

********

"I'm glad he was there," Cole says quietly as we wait in the sterile room for our doctor.

"Me too," I admit. "Who would've ever thought we'd be saying that?"

Cole shrugs, shaking his head. "I think he means all of it," he says after a long pause. "I think he really is trying to make things right. Is that stupid?"

He looks so young as he questions himself and his father's motives, and I wish I could take their past from them so starting over wouldn't have to be so hard.

I lace my fingers with his. "I don't know. Maybe we're both stupid, because I think he is too."

"At least I'm not being stupid alone," Cole scoffs, resting his free hand on my knee. I smile, feeling grateful for the same reason. Having Cole by my side definitely helps to ease away some of the fears I'd been harboring, but I'm still restless, the paper shielding the tan chair-bed hybrid crinkling under my weight as I shift to my back.

With each passing moment my anxiety increases, and I pray that our baby is alright. The discomfort has ceased, but I'm glad Harris insisted on my seeing the doctor. He even pulled some strings, getting us in right away. Cole showed up a few minutes later, having received his father's text.

"At least you have a good reason to cut class," I say in a feeble attempt to brighten our dark moods.

Cole smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. He's anxious, too, though he's doing his Galloway best to hide it. "It's going to be alright, sweetheart," he says quietly before lightly squeezing my knee and pinning me with his gaze. He hasn't let me out of his sight since we got here, but in this moment, I can't bring myself to look at him in return.

I'm so nervous that I've done something wrong-that somehow I've failed our baby. Now, every time I look at Cole I'm afraid that maybe I'll have failed him, too. I never realized how badly I wanted this little person in my life until I started to fret that I may never know her.

Her.

We don't even know what we're having, but my heart has for weeks. She's already beautiful, healthy, and vibrant in my mind, and God, please don't let anything happen to her. I've been praying this plea for the past few months, but never with the urgency I have today.

A gentle knock on the door sends my heart into convulsions, drumming so wildly in my chest that I swear the whole waiting room can hear it. My obstetrician enters with a smile on her face as she greets both of us, but I might as well be drowning.

The next few minutes trickle by in a blur. I explain what I've been feeling, and she nods thoughtfully while jotting down notes regarding my condition. Cole's glances from Dr. Hollister to me and then back again as he tries to take it all in, our sweaty palms still clasped together like all of our lives depend on it.

"What you're describing is not abnormal," Dr. Hollister explains, tucking her pen back into her starched jacket pocket. "I'm inclined to say that you're experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions, but I'd still like to do an ultrasound to be certain."

I nod, following her lead and stretching myself across the length of the cushioned surface. The cool gel makes contact with my belly as she begins scanning. I turn my attention to the screen beside me as the muffled sounds of the machine fill my ears, and then I hear it-a strong heartbeat just like before.