Junior 1. Unexpected

Junior Hesse settled into her desk chair in her perfectly organized cubicle. Neatly placed to her left was a picture of her parents, a candid photo taken on the porch of their San Francisco bungalow. Her mother's greying blonde hair framed the innumerable laugh lines from years of intimate moments with her father, whose muscular arm gathered her in an inseparable embrace. The background was a perfect sunset. An Instagramable sunset, the ones that continued to remind her why she chose to stay here, in her birthplace. On her right stood a picture of her younger sister, Jules.

She smelled the sterility of the research lab, a smell that had comforted her throughout her undergrad years as a premed student, and her recently completed masters degree in Biochemistry. She tried not to think about the rejection letter from med school that haunted her for the second year in a row. _This genetics research position will not be the death of me. _She thought to herself. _This will be a year of growth_.

Suddenly she shifted her weight, her ears erect and nostrils flared. She thought she heard… something that made her stomach drop slightly. Was it a Bombay Bicycle song? It couldn't be. She sniffed the rancid air. Liverwurst?

Jake.

It couldn't be. Jake Arbogast was the only person she knew who listened to that obscure London-based band and actually enjoyed the acidic taste of liverwurst. Jake, the guy who joined this world literally minutes after her and shared every single major life event with her, mostly against her will. She recounted every stuffed animal they shared custody over and high school memories in which he overshadowed her Quiz Bowl trophies with his football State Championship rings. He followed her to Stanford, but this research lab position? Every angsty adolescent emotion she experienced resurfaced, and she didn't like it.

Discretely (or to the best of her ability), Junior sat up from her chair, and scanned the rows of cubicles in the building, but not discretely enough because he saw her. He definitely saw her.

"Junior?" he garbled, his mouth full of sandwich. He was sitting in his own cluttered cubicle but immediately stood up. "I don't believe it!"

She groaned and slumped back in her chair and listened to his lumbering footsteps approach her cubicle.

"I don't believe it," he repeated, a little softer this time.

"Me neither," she grumbled, and turned back to face her idle computer screen.

"You haven't changed," he chuckled as he jumped onto the desk and scooted near her. The weight of his stocky build shook her parents' picture; she rolled her eyes.

She never really understood where he got his looks. His celebrity looks found no origin in his parents. He towered over his father. He had this rock star quality unmatched by all others. Every time Junior caught herself admiring it she punished herself.

"What brings you here, Jake?" she asked with little fluctuation in her voice.

"Oh, you know, another med school rejection letter leads to another year in question. Thought I'd dabble in fertility research this time. You?"

"Wait, the invincible Jake Arbogast gets rejected from medical school? Impossible," she tried to hide her genuine surprise with sarcasm.

"I guess so?" he scratched the back of his head and yawned. His trademarked casual cool. "It's okay, I'm over it. I'm comparing differential artificial insemination techniques. Back to you, what are you doing in this lowly place? I thought you'd be prepping for your first boards exam by now."

"It appears we're similar in more ways than one, Jake. Med school didn't work for me this time around, so my academic adviser suggested doing research in embryo research, freezing them to be exact."

Jake cocked his head slightly. "Well maybe our research will cross paths at some point?"

She let their eyes meet, briefly. His grey-blue eyes, the ones that established his heartbreaker status in 5th grade displayed such an honest care for her that was never present during their lives. Maybe spending two years apart—aside from major holidays— did a good thing for them. Did he know that his dangling foot was grazing against her thigh? Or was this his pseudo-flirt trick that she managed to shield herself away from and yet crushed plenty of girls in her friend group?

"Doubtful," she replied, cleared her throat and started to type an unnecessary email.

"Well, this year won't get too crazy will it?" he bantered back. She couldn't tell if there was honesty in his voice.

"Absolutely not," she said back, not sure if there was honesty in her voice, either.


	2. No Consequences

Jake rested his back against the bar, took a sip from his beer and yawned. He was used to science nerd gatherings from his college years, but this outing with several of his research lab "buddies" proved to be just as lackluster. It embarrassed him that this cubicle mates coughed awkwardly around the women at the bar and that they didn't know how to order a proper beer (or drink it for the matter). _Science nerds_, he thought with a dismal tone, and took a big gulp from his beer.

He loved parties. It took him only a matter of minutes before he became the chick magnet whom all model lookalikes found absolutely irresistible. Whatever conversation he was holding with someone became the conversation that _everyone _wanted to get a piece of. He was a 6'2" slab of seductiveness. He frequented the gym, and it definitely looked like he did. He's been told many a time that his blue-grey eyes are mesmerizing. Het got it.

Bored, Jake waved to Quentin from across the room. Quentin was one of his old fraternity brothers at Stanford who, on a whim, decided to apply to work in the same research lab with him, and miraculously got the position. An excellent companion and wingman, Quentin would know how to spice things up

"How you doing, man?" Jake asked him casually.

"Too sober," he replied and looked at his buddy. "Wanna ditch?"

Jake cocked his head and surveyed the scene. It was at peak hours for a bar crawl, yet the place was only mildly crowded. He was secretly hoping that the hot secretary Riley would be there.

"Naw, let's feel this one out. I think we need to fix the intoxication problem, shall we?" He patted his hip flask and grinned feverishly at his old friend.

"Nothing's changed since college, has it?" he guffawed, summoned the bartender and ordered two cokes. "Did you put Everclear in that?" his eyes widened.

"190-proof, as always," Jake tossed his beer back and discretely filled the sodas with a substantial amount of alcohol.

"Ride together, die together," Quentin responded and poured the drink down his throat, neither of them caring about the consequences that could possibly happen.


	3. Attraction

Jake felt the music pulsating in the room. He felt the heat of Riley's breath against his cheek as she whispered some nonsensical words into his ear, and boy did he feel _good_.

By then the hard alcohol had already done its job, and the night had turned into a lively event. Before his eyes, the acne-prone, stuttering scientists had turned into absolute studs.

Riley had taken down her hair for the night, and traded her bookish glasses for sultry red lipstick, and she was practically all over him; Jake was already envisioning the events that would take place as soon as they left this dank bar.

"Dude, Jake, look who decided to join us tonight. It's your kiddie pool buddy," Quentin hollered from the other end of the bar.

In his drunken giddiness Jake giggled at his friend's comment. All over his house are pictures from Jake and Junior's childhood, his personal favorite, a candid of Jake attempting to wrestle Junior in a shallow inflatable pool in the Arbogast's backyard.

At first he didn't believe what his friend told him. Junior pretty much spent all of high school traveling to fencing tournaments and running the student tutoring center. Whenever he got drunker than expected he could always rely on Junior to (reluctantly) pick him up from house parties on weekends, usually accuse him of being an alcoholic, yet always made sure he got to his home safely. In college she wouldn't dare step foot in a frat house or even think about wearing a skirt that didn't go past her knees.

He turned to the entrance and watched as Junior walked into the bar. He caught himself staring just a little too long and quickly looked away before she could see him. Jake tried to think of the last time she wore anything revealing or tight. He had a difficult time thinking of a recent memory.

Still, he couldn't get over the fact that Junior, the girl whose favorite pastime was going to the Container Store and attended weekly Jane Austen book club meetings, was at that bar, but more importantly, the fact that she looked good. She looked damn good.

"Junior!" he screeched across the bar. Quentin gave him a concerned look but Jake brushed it off. She looked a little concerned as well.

"Junior!" he panted and ran up to her. "I didn't think I would see you here!"

"Jake," she replied, sounding a bit startled. "I'm not here to give you a ride back if that's what you're asking."

"No, not at all! I'm just, I'm just," he paused realizing the effect of the alcohol. "I'm just happy you're here." The next words that came out of his mouth were ones he never thought he'd ever say: "Can I buy you a drink?"

Junior hesitated and studied her childhood companion. Sure, he could barely stand up and his cheeks were now a cherry red, but she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't like the attention.

She had observed him, unassumingly, over these past few weeks. She had forgotten about his outstanding work ethic that didn't correlate with his charismatic, carefree personality. All of the women drooled around his cubicle during lunch breaks, and the guys practically stuttered asking to borrow his sample tubes.

Why did he feel compelled to rush over to her at he bar? Could she place all of the blame on his intoxication?

She looked at him again. His eyes were locked with hers, smiling sheepishly.

"I'll have what you're having."


	4. Revolutionary

"YOU were the one who gave my entire family mono after drinking directly from the cider bowl at our annual Holiday Tea!" Junior shouted into Jake's face.

"Yeah, but you purposefully changed your answers on every single organic chemistry exam so that I would fail," Jake replied with a feverish grin.

They had been going at it for a few hours now, their faces inches away from each other, hashing out every single act of cruelty from their upbringing. Junior, nursing her third drink of the evening, would rest her head on his shoulder every now and then, bursting into a fit of giggles. In return, Jake would squeeze her hand during every tale.

"Jake, I think it's time to go," Quentin interrupted their conversation. At this point Jake and Junior had locked eyes for an extended period of time, clearly not inviting anyone else to join this impenetrable bond.

"What do you mean?" Jake asked, his voice fluctuating a little excessively.

"We had that thing to do… that thing we were supposed to go to," Quentin clearly sounded impatient.

"I don't know what you're— " Jake began, but Quentin grabbed his arm.

"Sorry Junior, but we have people we promised we would meet earlier. See ya," Quentin said halfheartedly as he whisked his friend out of the bar.

Once they got out the heated venue, Jake turned to Quentin. "Ok, dude, what the actual fuck? Why where you so rude to Junior?"

"Because," Quentin wasn't looking at him, instead focused on catching a cab, replied "you're way out of her league, you've never given her the time of day and I didn't want you to make a poor life choice tonight. Besides," he motioned for a yellow vehicle to come closer, "I have a brilliant idea."

"We've been family friends forever, we were just hanging out," Jake protested, trying to believe his lie.

"Dude, you were three seconds from making out with that nobody. C'mon, get in," he ushered Jake into the cab.

Jake wanted to argue, but the alcohol put him in a less than peppery mood. It hurt him that his best friend said those foul comments about her. He, too, had been lying to himself these past few weeks. He would often visit Junior's research cubicle, at first with the intention to bother her work rhythm or disorganize her papers, which usually turned into hour long conversations about their more successful friends, her aloof mother, or his lovably crass father.

All animosities aside, they still had an understanding for each other incomprehensible by all others.

"Where are we going Quentin? It's almost two in the morning"

"Don't worry about that. I've been thinking," he replied, slightly slurring his words.

"Yeah, you usually do after you've tossed a few back," Jake muttered. He started to feel a little queasy from the taxi driver's erratic navigation skills.

"No, but seriously. Sitting in that bar made me realize how unhappy I am in the lab," he turned to Jake, a bit of lunacy in his eyes. "Aren't you?"

"I think that's your problem, bro," said Jake as he closed his eyes, hoping to calm his uneasy stomach.

"Listen to me, Jake!" he shouted. "I don't want to waste away in this stupid lab for another year, doing jack shit, hoping that something great will happen, only to get rejected from medical school once again."

Jake groaned. He loved Quentin like his own brother, but sometimes, especially while drinking, he would have moments of selfishness and feel self-righteous, usually bringing Jake down, the people pleaser and crowd magnet, as a result.

After some time, Jake shifted his body to look out the window of the cab, startled to see that they had arrived at the lab.

"Quentin, what are we doing here?"

At this moment Quentin turned to face him, making eye contact with his friend for the first time that evening. He flashed a devilish grin, his manic eyes a telltale sign that he was indeed drunk, but more importantly, insane.

"Jake, we need to do something _revolutionary_."


	5. Idea

Jake hated it when Quentin would only want to go to certain bars with certain people, be adamant about his self-made deadlines for research proposals, and suck Jake into pity parties that left him empty. Jake was hugely popular, but that didn't make him an elitist.

"Tell me more about your and Junior's dad's research way back when," he said, leaning out of his chair to make sure the taxi driver was going in the right direction.

"What? Oh, you mean Expectane? Man that drug is like 25 years old. There's not really much to say," he replied, confused at his friend's request. The alcohol was really hitting him; all he wanted to do was pass out, but Quentin yanked his stumbling frame out of the cab.

Quentin was referring to a conversation the two had briefly during a late night in the lab. He had stumbled upon a batch of outdated Expectane in the bowels of the storage closet. Junior found it rather comical that the fertility drug looked like travel-sized bottles of Listerine mouthwash.

They were in the storage closet, sifting through old test tubes and expired batches of hormone injections when he uncovered the box.

"That stuff was really popular around the time I was born. My dad said it was one of the most lucrative points in his medical career," Jake remarked.

"What happened?" Quentin asked softly, his thumbs smoothing over the box.

Jake sighed. He didn't really like talking with his dad about his Expectane years because it those conversations always made the old man feel so sad. Heartbroken, almost.

"We were the cheapest fertility drug on the market, and yet we had the highest success rate of maintaining a full-term pregnancy," his father would say with dismay, his shoulders sinking with each word, making his short frame infinitely smaller. Apparently, after a wildly successful decade-long run as the #1 fertility drug in the country, Expectane sales started to falter a bit. Competing companies created products that were newer, bigger, and better, leaving Dr. Hesse and Dr. Arbogast an ultimatum: redesign or gracefully back out of sales.

"Thankfully, I had the private practice to fall back on, and Junior's dad began to lecture at the University" Dr. Arbogast explained to his son, "but I feel like I failed Expectane. The company. The clients who trusted us. Our name."

Once Jake explained this Quentin, he nodded, and nothing more was said.

Now, back at the lab, Quentin was nervously pacing around, while Jake was slumped over a random cubicle desk chair.

"Dude, I gotta go home. I'm getting sick," Jake moaned. Junior's face reappeared and he breathed slowly. She looked so beautiful at the bar; he wondered how long he had been totally oblivious to her and he kicked himself for that.

"No." The word came with force. Jake wiped a hand over his face and widened his eyes.

"Dude, what the fuck is going on?"

"I've been toying around with Expectane," Quentin responded, not stopping his stride but quickly glanced at him. "I know how we can improve it. The progesterone and estrogen levels are way off, man. I think I found an even equilibrium that could compete with the other drugs out there. I think we can bring this back."

"Okay," Jake slurred. "Let's test it on one of the monkeys," he began, but Quentin quickly shook his head. Beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead.

"Can't," Quentin spat out. "They're all being tested. Traces of other medications could taint our results, and waiting the obligatory three-month detox period would be too long."

"Then let's start a case study. There's bound to be a patient willing to try the updated treatment," Jake suggested, but once again an annoyed look appeared on his friend's face, as if he already considered it. _How long has he been planning this? _

"Expectane lost its FDA-approved status years ago. Reapplying could take years," his step quickened, and he zeroed in on Jake. "There's another option."

"Entertain me, please," Jake closed his eyes, hoping the nausea would cease. He wanted to go home so badly.

"You could carry the embryo."

With that, Jake grabbed the nearest trashcan and hurled.


	6. Sit Still

"I need my phone," Jake sputtered, wiping his mouth after he lifted his head from the trashcan.

"What are you doing?" Quentin asked.

"No, sir, what the hell are _you _doing? I don't know what's gotten into you, and, I don't really want to know. I'm calling a cab to go home," he said and began scanning the desk for his phone.

Quentin braced his hands on Jake's broad shoulders; he was too tired to shrug him off. When Jake looked into his friend's eyes they glittered with a maniacal expression.

"We could achieve brilliance. In the name of research, Jake, c'mon," a smile gathered on his lips.

"No," Jake replied firmly, then paused. "Why me, anyway? Why don't _you_ get pregnant and suffer for nine months, _in the name of research_. That I'd gladly watch."

"See, you're looking at this the wrong way. You wouldn't be _pregnant_ pregnant. Think of yourself simply as a test subject, a carrier. And we would only need three months of data to confirm that an embryo would survive fertilization using Expectane. No one would know, and we don't have to list the gender of the test subject in our report. Fertility experiments are already kind of assumed," he laughed, then continued, "You could survive three months without beer, right?" he raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You're in better shape than I am, overall healthier. You are the ultimate gestational carrier, Jake!"

It's true. Jake epitomized physical perfection: with an impeccable muscular build and years of triathlon training experience, the guy was a tank. Quentin, though slender, smoked a pack a day and lived on a diet of Hot Pockets and Jack Daniels.

"I said no," Jake announced, and got up. Surprisingly, Quentin didn't resist. Instead, he backed away.

"So what will you do then, Jake?" he said in a quiet voice. "Retake the MCAT, apply for med school _again_, get rejected _again_, only to return to the lab for another uneventful year_ again_. Our research would set us apart. This could be it. Think about it. I dare you."

Jake did think about it. He shuddered at the thought of being trapped in the cubicle for another year, hunched over dozens of petri dishes. Quentin always knew how to convince him to do things. Damn it.

"There's too much we have to figure out. We need—" Jake began, but Quentin already cut him off.

"I already told, I've been toying with this for a while now. I have a test dosage of Expectane with the new progesterone and estrogen levels, along with a few estrogen injections to ease the fertilization process," Quentin answered and folded his arms across his chest.

"But the egg," Jake said flatly.

"See that, well, uh, I was thinking we would borrow one of, uh, Junior's eggs from her research grant," he eased into this last part, knowing that Junior would be a sore subject. He noticed the anger rising in Jake and started stammering with a response.

"Borrowing implies that we would return the egg. Are you an idiot, Quentin? That's downright disrespectful. And she's been working so hard on her own research. You're fucking inconsiderate. I'm out," Jake replied, and made moves to his phone, but once again Quentin stopped him.

"She's disposing of them! I heard her say this! There were a few eggs that didn't match the profile she was looking for in her latest round of freezing. They're going to go to waste anyways, we might as well use them! Please, Jake. Please," he looked up to his tall friend. Jake narrowed his eyes, their steely blue color piercing into Quentin. Jake flared his nostrils as he continued to size him up. Quentin didn't dare say a word, or admit that what he said was a total lie.

Jake relaxed. "Fuck, let's just do it. Do it now before I say no. This could very well not work. Fuck. Quentin I fucking hate you man," he remarked. To this, Quentin practically squealed and squeezed his friend.

During the next hour, an eerie calm settled in the lab. Jake, still a bit intoxicated from the night's festivities, gave Quentin his sperm and relaxed himself in the patient recliner chair, trying not to think about what would happen in the near future. Quentin robotically moved through different stations, obtaining a random egg from Junior's side of the lab, fertilizing the egg, preparing the Expectane, and gathering the necessary tools to complete the procedure.

The clock read 3:13 am, and both scientists were deliriously exhausted.

"Lift up your shirt. It's time," Quentin instructed, and Jake obeyed.

His impeccable 8 pack gleamed in the artificial light as Quentin used an ultrasound to isolate the area for implantation. All Jake saw was dark, hollow, undulating space on the screen. Quentin made some noise implying that he located a good spot and looked at his friend. They didn't know what words to exchange, but Quentin's fingers lingered over the syringe, twitching.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Jake's voice quivered.

"Just… sit still," he replied in a low tone, hastily grabbed the syringe, and plunged the thick needle into his friend's abdomen.

:


	7. Responsibility

"Junior, come down please. Jules and Connor should be here any minute."

Junior shifted her weight in her desk chair upon hearing her mother's voice. It was customary to spend her Sunday evening eating dinner with her parents. Her sister Jules, erratic and passionate like their mother, would show up on occasion with her husband, Connor. Junior still couldn't believe that Jules, her baby sister, got away with marrying a man fifteen years his junior right after college, and yet she plowed through her parents' concern and threw the most lavish wedding the Bay area had seen in ages, according to the local paper.

Junior grew to look forward to these Sundays; they were extremely restorative and peaceful and her childhood home served as a safe refuge to conquer long hours of studying and research. She would often camp out in her father's study, and they worked side by side, wordlessly, for hours on end, sharing the same energy flow and concentration. Dr. Hesse often joked that Junior's sixth sense was knowing exactly when he needed a cup of coffee which she prided herself in making. Junior was her father's daughter to her core, from their similar pensive personalities to their conservative style of dress; this was an identity she embraced.

This same sense of security and serenity were absent, however, on this particular evening. Junior had been feeling somewhat unsettled, almost perturbed after her night at the bar with Jake, which happened almost four weeks ago. Sitting in her childhood bedroom, thumbing through old photo albums and yearbooks, she didn't realize how often Jake's presence intertwined with her life.

Before this summer, she savored every bit of their detachment upon entering adulthood. But now, her heart ached as that same separation started to evolve again.

During dinner, Junior was relatively mute; it was fairly easy to do when Jules was in attendance.

"They put Connor in charge of a _monumental _case, so he's been working long hours at the firm. I. am. so. proud. of. him," she gushed, pausing between each word to stroke her spouse's face and kiss him on the lips. Together, they looked like a poster couple for J. Crew, Connor with his all-American looks and Jules' rich blonde hair coiled in a tight bun, her perfect makeup highlighting her perfect bone structure.

Their father sat at the head of the table and smiled. His dominating physical presence asserted his "Man of the House" status, but having two daughters certainly softened him. "Congratulations, Connor. And how are things in retail, sweetheart?"

"Absolutely wonderful. All of my new clients are young millionaires who can't tell the difference between a sports jacket and a blazer. It's adorable," she continued. Jules worked as a personal stylist for male professionals in the city, which is how she met Connor.

Jules pursed her red-stained lips and looked at her older sister from across the table. "How's your, erm, science lab stuff coming along, Junior?" Jules definitely didn't inherit the science gene in the family.

"Just dandy," she replied, and resumed stirring her beef stew.

"I heard Jake's in the lab, too. I bet you're more than pleased," she mused, knowing of their tumultuous relationship.

"You bet," Junior said, hating that her sister mentioned the one person she couldn't get out of her head but was desperately trying to.

It's just that things were so _off_ between them ever since that night at the bar.

Junior couldn't understand how they could be minutes from kissing to barely speaking. Like after weeks of flirting and heartfelt conversations they were on the cusp of something but he quickly backed off. Jake steered clear of her at the lab as if she did something wrong; they no longer shared their lunch breaks together or went on their customary walks afterwards, she didn't even see Jake eating lunch at all. Whenever she tried to strike up a conversation with him he would look disinterested, almost pained, clearly not paying any attention. "I have to go see Quentin about something," he would mutter and walk away. The two were inseparable as of late.

She wondered if this was what it felt like to be included on Jake's long list of booty calls, ex-girlfriends, and any woman who fell hopelessly in love with him, only to have their heart broken. She hated herself for falling in that same trap.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Diana, her mother, asked.

"Yes, just stressed about things in the lab is all."

"Larry's mentioned that Jake has been stressed, too. At least you both are staying busy," Dr. Hesse responded thoughtfully, and reached out to comfort his eldest daughter. The two shared a smile, and Junior felt somewhat better.

"Well, I think that Jules and I have some news to lighten the mood a bit," Connor cleared his throat and gazed at his wife, who could barely contain her excitement.

"And what is that?" asked Dr. Hesse.

"I'M PREGNANT!" Jules exclaimed, and everyone gasped.

"Oh my word, Jules I am so happy for you!" Diana immediately rushed to her daughter to give her a hug.

"Congratulations," her father grinned and placed a firm hand on Connor's shoulder.

"It's still super early but we just couldn't wait to tell you all!" Jules enthused.

Junior sat there, stunned.

Jules, her baby sister, pregnant? Even though they were only 14 months apart, Junior always assumed the role of caregiver, nurse, protector. Her parents claimed they wanted another child right away so that Junior would have an instant playmate and life companion, but Junior secretly believed that they just wanted a built-in babysitter, a guardian to watch over their carefree baby girl.

Jules' beautiful looks and vivacious personality almost always got her in trouble, which meant Junior was responsible for picking up the pieces. Jules marched to the beat of her own drum while Junior stood silently in the background, monitoring every movement to make sure she didn't fall. When she became engaged to Connor, all of their family friends started pestering Junior about her love life, if there were any suitors (no), if she was thinking about marriage soon (no), or if she knew what direction her life was heading in (no).

And now, her sister was about to become a mother, while Junior sat in a research lab freezing eggs.

At the dinner table, Jules wiped tears from her face as she continued to embrace her family members. She glanced at the still-sitting Junior, almost as if she was looking for approval.

"I love you so much, sister," she said, and cradled Jules in her arms.

Later that evening, Junior and her father camped out in his study, analyzing data and writing lab reports, their elbows occasionally bumping against each other due to the proximity of their workspace.

"So Jules is going to be a mother," Junior murmured, looking over her report. "It seems like only yesterday you were paying her cell phone bill."

"I think I still do," her father jested, and turned to her. "Are you sure you're alright? I understand a scientist's frustration better than anyone, but it seems like there's something else bothering you."

Her father knew her too well, as always.

"I just feel like my life is unraveling at an unpredictable rate while everyone else's is gathering up quite nicely. I mean, I can't even be responsible for my own life while Jules is creating one herself. It's just a lot, is all," she confided to her father, completely skipping over her perplexed feelings about Jake.

Her father took his burly arms and with the utmost delicacy wrapped them around his daughter.

"You know how she is. I don't think any of us know what Jules has schemed in her mind, but at this point you just have to accept it. She'll understand parenthood eventually, all new parents reach that epiphany at different points."

"When did that happen for you?" Junior asked.

Her father breathed deeply and her head rose and fell as it rested on his ribcage. "After your mother had you, when they placed you in my arms for the first time. The idea of you, from the moment of your conception to your first breaths, you were a miracle, almost too good to be true. You weren't a reality to me until you were born."

For some unexplainable reason (Junior wasn't a crier), her eyes began brimming with tears, to which her father brought her even closer.

"You have made me more proud than you will ever know. Your compassion is what makes you a great scientist and daughter, and that is why you are the most important person in my life," he said softly, and they stayed in this embrace for quite some time.


	8. Positive

Jake was ready to call it quits.

It was after hours in the lab, the only time he and Quentin could run tests and monitor Jake's condition without anyone discovering their mad science experiment.

"I can't—" Jake paused to bury his head into the trashcan to vomit, a common occurrence, "take this anymore."

Quentin didn't pay him any attention, instead looking at the computer screen. "Well, the embryo certainly can. Everything is perfectly normal. I can't believe it," he replied, then turned to Jake. "Did you remember to take your Expectane dose this evening?"

"No," he breathed, and motioned for his friend to hand him the vial of the vibrant blue substance; he didn't feel confident enough to leave the trashcan.

At the beginning of the experiment, Jake and Quentin could barely comprehend the genius of their work. The first positive pregnancy test resulted in a round of cheers and an insatiable hunger to push forward, record meticulous detail of their progress, and fine tune every single chemical component of Expectane.

They were nearing the first month of the trial. Their celebrations dwindled as their research navigated into more serious territory. Additionally, pregnancy symptoms hit full swing, which left Jake feeling powerless, unstable, and unable to reclaim his former life. Spending nights in as opposed to hitting his standard bar crawl and easing his workout routine he could handle, but he had never felt _this _sick before in his life.

"There has to be something you can fix, man. I can't keep anything down, I feel dizzy to the point where I'm afraid to carry on with normal daily habits. I almost asked Junior to carpool with me to the lab today because I was afraid to drive," he disclosed before downing the liquid.

"Those symptoms should subside in a few weeks. You haven't mentioned anything to her, have you?" Quentin's voice was harsh, almost accusatory.

"Of course not. I'm not an idiot," he replied. He didn't mention, though, how much he ached to tell her. Even thinking about Junior worsened the pain; he knew how much his changed behavior hurt her.

She was the first one in the lab to notice his severe morning sickness. He was exiting the bathroom for the third time that morning when he almost ran into her, as if she was waiting for him to leave.

"Are you hungover?" she wisecracked, then held up her thermos. "Don't answer that. Want to eat outside again? 72 degrees and sunny. It'll save you a trip to Sun Tan City."

Jake smiled weakly. She started wearing her hair down a few times a week, today being one of those days. He admired how her full blonde hair naturally framed her heart-shaped face, not wearing an ounce of makeup yet radiating such brilliance. And then—

Her perfume wafted in the air, infiltrating into his nose, and a powerful wave of nausea pummeled him over. He used to enjoy the breath of gardenia that Junior sent as she breezed by his cubicle, or the faint scent he drank in when they were invading their personal spaces at the bar that night. But now, the last thing he needed was to smell that once heavenly aroma again.

"I don't want to. I—", he breathed through his mouth, attempting to compose himself, "have other things to do," he said shortly as he turned on his heels and rushed back into the bathroom, in the same stall, to spew whatever was left with in his stomach.

Periodically, she would text him. Not hovering, just checking in. Because she cared about him. She always cared about him.

_Are you in the mood to see a movie? That techno thriller looks good. _She would say.

_Too much work. Can't. _Is what he would respond.

Being around her, and the instant ease she always put him in, was the last thing Jake needed. Because he knew he would tell her.

So Junior interpreted these unfortunate instances as a "signal," the same one he was sure she discerned with a judgmental eye as his ex-lovers entered and exited the revolving door that was his love life.

He wondered if he would ever be able to explain this to her, once this was all over. If she would even talk to him again.

Jake looked back at Quentin, who was tracing his fingers along one of his blood tests, nodding in approval. He sucked his tongue for a brief moment. "Did you add flavor to this dosage? It tastes better."

"Berry," he quickly glanced over the paper to meet Jake's eyes. "I'm on the lookout for you, buddy. Now can you please throw your vomit bag away before we both hurl?"

At that moment, Jake's phone buzzed. A text, from Junior. At this point in the week she was usually having dinner with her family, and the two would exchange playful banter about their families. This text, however, was uncharacteristically short.

_I hope you're doing well. _

Jake didn't know how to explain, so he ignored her text altogether.


	9. Treading

Junior felt content, an emotion that hadn't surfaced in a while. It was a Friday. Her last data analysis on her frozen eggs pleased her, she had plans to check out a speakeasy-style bar with a friend from college that night, and every last paperclip and manila envelope was sorted in its proper place on her workspace. She smoothed over her eyebrows and smiled.

Nothing could ruin this moment, until she heard the familiar lumbered steps approach her cubicle.

"Hello, Junior."

_Jake_.

Hearing his lush baritone voice simultaneously made her heart flutter while also delivering a mild suckerpunch to her stomach.

"Hi," she replied curtly, not turning around, instead thumbed through a meticulously organized folder, searching for nothing.

She heard him sigh. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"If you did, then you would answer my texts and actually pretend like you tolerate my existence," she replied, trying her best to add a bite to each word. She turned around to face him, and immediately regretted her harshness.

He looked awful.

His face had an ashy complexion, coupled with haggard, baggy eyes. His black-brown hair, which was usually kept in a practical cut, looked disheveled and he hadn't shaved in days. Jake's impressive frame once rivaled her father's brawniness, but he looked weathered and rundown.

She spent these past two months sneaking glances at him, but this was the first time she truly, truly looked at Jake. She didn't like what she saw. It was uncanny, familiar.

Jake may have spent the better part of his career as a scientist manipulating and testing chemicals and drugs, but he didn't have the cleanest record when it came to using them.

In his senior year of high school, Jake was about to enter a football recruitment camp for college scouts when he tore his ACL. The painkillers doctors prescribed were crucial to his recovery, but when he repeatedly asked his father to refill his prescription, the Arbogast family uncovered his secret addiction. Junior remembered late nights of perching at the top of the staircase in her home, catching bits and pieces of hushed conversations between her parents about Jake's "predicament." In their AP classes Junior noted Jake's jerky movements and mangled appearance; this was the first time she took pity on him. That summer, when Junior noticed his absence at the community pool where he usually worked as a lifeguard, her mother was very clear when explaining that Jake would be spending the first six weeks of the break serving underprivileged youth in a sports camp. Junior thought otherwise.

She wondered if Jake was revisiting this dark place, if this was the cause of his foul behavior. That same feeling of pity and worry flooded into her senses.

"I'm sorry," Junior said abruptly. "I've just been swamped." Apologizing oddly lifted a weight off her shoulders. She motioned for him to sit down in the adjacent cubicle.

"No, I should be the one apologizing. A lot's been going on too. It… It's hard to explain," his voice trailed off as he looked at her arrangement of family photos near her windowsill.

Boldly, she reached over and grasped his hands, almost as if they were making a pact.

"You can tell me _anything_, Jake. Please know that," she whispered, locking her eyes with his. He opened his mouth, as if to say something. He furrowed his brows, then relaxed them. Junior almost had him, but he successfully escaped again.

"You worry too damn much. Why am I your designated life coach?" he grinned and squeezed her hand, making her blush. "How's everyone?"

"The same," she responded. Jake was the only person who would understand exactly what she meant.

"Dad's still writing grants like nobody's business?" he teased.

"Yup."

"Mom's continuing to publish award-winning articles while effortlessly holding down the fort?"

"Affirmative."

"And Jules," he paused for a moment and bit his lip. "Jules is doing a tour of every single fashion week in the world, refusing to let married life slow her down."

"Try again," she laughed. "Jules is pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Jake's voice cracked. It sounded appalled, shocked, and completely in disbelief.

"Thank you!" Junior exclaimed, almost shouting. "Somebody sees how absolutely ludicrous this is! I was sitting there, at the dinner table when she told us, and everyone was happier than when Netflix picked up _Arrested Development_! I mean, does she even know the responsibilities of being a parent, being a _mother_? I feel like she looked at those celebrity baby blogs, saw those cute baby bumps and thought, 'I want one, too.' She doesn't realize that being pregnant and having a child comes with sacrifices, it's more than Pinterest-inspired birth announcements and pastel onesies. Procreating is _sacred_."

Junior took a deep breath, impassioned by her spiel, and was about to continue, but stopped. At some point during her speech Jake withdrew his hands from hers and stared at them blankly as they rested on his lap, saying nothing.

Junior, embarrassed, realized that she rambled for a bit too long. She couldn't help that Jake's presence alone made her want to pour her heart out, pour her heart into him.

"Sorry to bore you with the blabber. Pregnancy, babies, girl stuff. Things men will never have to worry about. Sigh. Anyway, tell me about your life!" Junior tried to recover, but she was losing Jake again. He started bouncing his knees and his face was starting to morph in that queasy look that's almost become his trademark expression. He checked the time on his watch and nervously scanned the cubicles.

"I need to see Quentin about something," was all he said as he slowly got up from his chair. "I'm… sorry you feel that way."

Dumbfounded, Junior looked up at her childhood companion, searching for an answer in his steel eyes that quickly averted her gaze.

_What's wrong with you? _Is what she wanted to ask him, desperate to understand what was ailing him so, and why he continued to mislead her. Jake would tread closer to her, making small steps until he was inches away from Junior's open arms, and then he would curtail his advances and flee in the opposite direction.

Above all, she wanted to ask herself: _What's wrong with me?_

Why did she care about him so much? Why did she spend days trying to deny that she had feelings for him, and yet the second he walks by she lets down her ironclad barricades and embrace him?

She wiped a silly tear from her cheek (what is it with all of the crying recently?), and smoothed her pencil skirt. She breathed slowly and thought to herself, _This is the last time I will care about him. This is the last time I will ever care about Jake Arbogast. _


	10. Failed

Jake cupped his hands under the running faucet and splashed the cool water on his face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, almost in disbelief.

Things had taken a turn for the worse.

Toward the end of the second month of their trial, Jake's symptoms went from severe to unbearable. Morning sickness hadn't subsided whatsoever, he would break out into hives, and extreme fatigue would hinder his work in the lab and their progress on Expectane.

Which, by the way, was starting to deteriorate rapidly.

"Is everything okay inside there?" Jake would ask with concern during every ultrasound. At this point, due to his inability to keep anything in his stomach, there weren't any huge tell-tale signs of his condition, but he looked softer, like he was in off-season. His belly slightly puckered at the lower part of his abdomen, but he easily concealed that with his Husky shirts. It didn't stop him from occasionally smoothing it over, almost instinctively.

"For now, but I don't know how much longer the fetus will withstand your dehydration and high blood pressure," he reported. _He really needs to work on his bedside manner_ Jake thought to himself.

"I mean, there must be something you can do, right? Give me my chart," he pulled his shirt down and examined the piece of paper. "Quentin, I can't pronounce the names of any of these drugs. What have you been doing to the original formula?"

"I've been experimenting. I did my research."

"On Wikipedia?" Jake muttered. "Whatever you're doing isn't working. My health is on the line. The baby's health is on the line."

"You mean fetus," Quentin corrected, and gave a concerned look to his friend. "Are you going soft on me? We only have three weeks left in the experiment, then you're back to your bench-pressing 300 and beer guzzling ways."

"I, am _not _going soft, Quentin," Jake defended, shocked that he used the word "baby" to refer to what was growing inside of him. " But if we're designing a product meant to help assist pregnancies then we at least want to make sure the drug isn't making the mother's life a living hell."

"And don't you think I see that?" Quentin barked. "Look, I'm trying everything I can. I'm hitting a lot of brick walls right now and it doesn't help that you're not responding well to the treatment. If things don't get better, then…"

"Then what?" Jake instinctively put his hand on his abdomen.

"I don't know," Quentin replied softly. "Until something works. But I don't know if that's going to happen."

A severe cramp trilled inside of him at the thought of that memory, causing Jake to double over. He breathed slowly, then checked his phone.

It was almost 10 pm. Quentin was supposed to get to the lab an hour ago, their standard meeting time to run tests, but he hadn't responded to Jake's last three text messages and he was nowhere to be found. This wasn't like him.

A wave of nausea hit him with full force, and Jake scrambled into the handicap-accessible stall and gripped the rim of the toilet. The familiar burn of the acidity in the back of his throat returned, and Jake welcomed the blue water sitting in the bowl. The sheer power of the reaction, coupled with his empty systems, caused him to lose control of his surroundings, his movements, his thoughts.

And suddenly, everything went black.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but first heard measured footsteps scuffle on the linoleum floor before they stopped at his stall.

Slowly, he opened his eyes.

"I thought I'd find you here." It was Quentin.

"Where have you been?" Jake asked hoarsely.

"I checked your last blood test," Quentin said, dodging the question. "Everything's gone wrong. It looks like your body's rejecting Expectane, and your systems are responding poorly to the imbalanced hormone levels. Our experiment was a fail."

It sounded like he had rehearsed this. Jake continued to breathe jagged breaths through his mouth.

"What…about…the baby?" he panted, his body still sprawled on the floor.

"The fetus is fine, shockingly enough. But without Expectane, it won't survive. Not a chance," he stated robotically.

Jake squinted his eyes to get a better view of his friend. In addition to his two bookbags, a piece of luggage sat next to him, patiently.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," Quentin said flatly. "That's why I'm here. Without the Expectane trial, there's nothing for me to do here. There's nothing going on. A research lab in Boston is willing to hire me so I'll be starting a new project there."

"Quentin," Jake paused, trying to regain his composure. "I need you here. You can't just leave."

"Oh, who were we kidding, Jake? This experiment was brilliant, in theory, but highly implausible in execution. This has spiraled out of control and I don't know what to do. We were playing games, not actually creating real science."

"Quentin," Jake said his name again, still unable to register what was unfolding in front of him. "Please."

Quentin had been studying him like a specimen this entire time, not letting one hint of emotion reveal on his face. And then, at Jake's last plea, he dropped his cool façade..

"I-I-I'm sorry," he stammered, and immediately grabbed his possessions and left Jake, alone.

He didn't know what to do.

Jake tried to get up, but his fatigue immediately took over and he slumped against the wall. Even if he did wait it out, he wasn't sure if he could drive himself home at that point. If he waited overnight, then his coworkers would be suspicious, possibly unveiling their experiment. In that helpless instant he realized how alone he was, and that terrified him.

He cried out angrily and inched his body closer to the toilet, waiting for the next wave of nausea to hit him. And then a moment of clarity came to him, and he took out his phone.

He knew who would be there for him, who had been there for him all along.


	11. Rescue

On Saturday nights, Junior preferred to stay in.

Her vanilla cinnamon wax cubes had melted completely on her scent infuser, and her bedroom turned into a warm, spicy cocoon. She brushed off her copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, pulled up her layered comforter, and curled her toes.

She thumbed through the first page and was about to devour Austen's timeless prose when the shrill of her cellphone pierced into the peaceful haven.

The ringtone was some arbitrary Drake song, which only meant one thing:

Jake.

Junior stared at her phone, wondering if her hands would make a decision without her thinking, but they remained stagnant, paralyzed, hesitant.

She thought briefly about the time he selected that ringtone, remembering how he secretly stole her phone and purposefully chose that tone, it knowing that it would make her blush. He liked making her blush, at one point in their friendship.

Junior desperately missed that Jake.

She thought about which Jake was on the other line. Was it the Jake that would give her a copy of _Sense and Sensibility and Seamonsters _as a gag gift and give her incredibly helpful feedback on her research, or would it be the Jake that would only sometimes acknowledge her while at work, pretending that she was an acquaintance, if anything?

Did it matter?

"Jake," she pronounced his name carefully.

"Junior," his voice sounded exasperated. "I need your help."

She couldn't count the number of times he said this to her, but this time it sounded very different. "Yes. Anything," she breathed.

"I need you to bring my father to the lab," he rasped into the phone. "As soon as possible."

"I'll be there in 20 minutes," she said, and immediately hung up. Effortlessly, she leaped out of her bed. She pulled on her ratty Nikes while simultaneously slipping her bag over her shoulder and was out of the door in minutes.

Junior had completed plenty of Jake "rescue missions," from serving as his DD at high school parties to covering up for him whenever he missed their shared classes in college because of his "rough night" before, but there was an unshakeable urgency in his voice. It made her heart feel sore.

Ten minutes later Junior arrived at Jake's parent's house.

"Junior, it's almost midnight. Is everything alright?" Larry, Jake's father asked, genuinely concerned.

"Please, come in," his wife, Angela, urged Junior and motioned for her to enter their inviting household, but Junior was impatient.

"It's Jake," she blurted out loud. She felt her hands shaking and clasped them together. "There's something wrong with him and he's currently at the lab. He called me and asked me to bring you there, Dr. Arbogast. I don't know what's going on but he needs us."

Larry ran a hand across his balding head, trying to take in every word of Junior's speedy delivery.

"Oh, my…" his mother said, her hand covering her mouth.

"When did he call you?"

"Ten minutes ago."

"Did he mention anything specific?"

"No," Junior remarked. "I'm really worried about him."

His parents looked at each other for a brief moment, scanning their faces to make sense of it all. Finally, Larry looked at Junior and nodded. "Angela, please get my coat."

In the car, Junior and Larry said few words. Dr. Arbohgast was never short of jokes or crass anecdotes, but he was surprisingly mute. Junior tried to concentrate on the road but was too preoccupied with what she would see at the lab; she felt confident that Dr. Arbogast was thinking the same thing, too.

"How has Jake been? I mean, he's been kind of a hermit recently but we've talked over the phone," his dad asked Junior.

Junior couldn't answer that question honestly. The past few weeks weren't tense, per say, but they kept their distance. Through this unorthodox tango they continued a peaceful existence, ignoring each other's presence to eliminating the possibility of discussing their past history or Jake's erratic behavior. It made working at the lab somewhat bearable; Junior managed to go several minutes without thinking about him.

"He seems preoccupied," she replied softly.

"That's not how he makes it sound," Dr. Arbogast remarked, and Junior felt his eyes on her.

"What do you mean?" she cleared her throat and burrowed her brows.

"He speaks fondly of you. Made it seem like you spent a lot of time together. I figured if anyone knew what was going on right now it would be you," he said, and sighed.

"He and Quentin pretty much keep to themselves," Junior said, and was thankful that the darkness inside the car concealed her reddening cheeks. Did Jake really talk about her to his dad? This implied that he still thought about her, still found her relevant to mention to his family. That thought alone made her feel ridiculously and pathetically hopeful.

"Quentin. Never trusted that shmuck," he said with disdain. Junior wanted to voice an agreement but they were about to park outside the lab. It was starting to rain.

With a quickened pace, they approached the doors to the building. Junior used her card to swipe in for access, and together they meandered through the hallways until they reached the lab.

"I don't think anyone's here," Dr. Arbogast said, clearly panicked as he scanned the cubicles. "He's not here. Jake's not here," His imploring eyes bore into Junior's, desperately asking for help.

Junior, however, did not share this same sense of urgency. "Come with me," she instructed, and lead him to the one place where she keenly watched Jake mysteriously enter and leave for weeks, wondering what on Earth he was up to, but more importantly why he wouldn't tell her.

The lights to the bathroom flickered on as it detected movement from two very frazzled loved ones.

"Jake!" his father called out. They heard a moan from the last stall.

When she flung open the door, she gasped. Jake lay in fetal position, clutching his stomach. He acknowledged their presence with a groan. He looked very, very pale.

"Jake, what's wrong?" Dr. Arbogast pleaded as he approached his son, who barely opened his eyes.

"We're here to help," Junior said in a kind voice, and began cleaning the vomit from the side of his mouth. As she was tending to him, she spoke softly, lightly touching his face, doing anything to revive the old Jake.

"Junior," he said as his eyes fluttered open. His face cracked into a smile, which made her laugh with relief. "I miss –" he began, but then turned his head to vomit.

There was blood.

"Dr. Arbogast, we need to call 911," she ordered.

"No," he replied.

She faced him, appalled by his inability to see the gravity of the situation. She noticed he was cradling a small vial of blue liquid with a white cap between his fingers, a look of bewilderment and shock occupying his aging face.

"But Dr. Arbogast—," she tried to say, but he cut her off.

"Junior, we really appreciate your help, but I think I need to be with my son right now, alone, to assess the situation," he said, still looking at the vial as if he was trying to discern some secret code from it. "It can't be," he whispered to himself, then put the vial in his coat pocket.

Slowly, Dr. Arbogast lowered his rotund frame to tend to Jake. "Thank you for everything, Junior."

Junior bit her lip, and nodded. She felt uncomfortable, standing there, knowing that she was unable to assuage her friend's agony. More importantly, she felt uncomfortable seeing Jake in such a vulnerable state.

Jake.

The Jake with a build closely resembling to Thor.

The Jake who quietly logged the most community service hours in his fraternity for three consecutive years.

The Jake whose nonsensical humor made her laugh from the purest part of her heart.

Jake.

"If you need anything, let me know," she told them. Dr. Arbogast took his hands in hers and said thank you again.

Junior walked back to her car. By now the light showers that had begun earlier turned into a torrential downpour. As she sat in the driver's seat, she realized how grateful she was for the pounding rain, which stifled the echoing of her powerful, powerful sobs and aching sense of lonesomeness.


	12. Alright

The first thing Jake felt when he woke up was pain. Sharp, shooting pain traveling along his back that caused him to groan out loud, and he was taken aback at how hoarse his voice was.

Gently, his eyes fluttered open, and he gradually took in the nostalgic familiarity of his childhood bedroom. _How the hell did I get here? _he thought to himself, and tried to reach for his cellphone on the nightstand but the tug of an IV drip in his right arm limited his range.

Someone in the room cleared their throat.

Jake locked eyes with his father, who was sitting patiently in an armchair close to the foot of his bed, twirling a dose of Exectane between his fingers.

The scene was all too familiar, these intervention-style exchanges with his father. The last time this happened it was the day before his parents sent him to rehab for his painkiller addiction. He woke up from the wildest Vicodin high from some party he vaguely remembered, unsure as to how he got there. Dr. Arbogast sat in that same armchair, holding his empty pill bottle in his hands, and a brochure of the treatment center rested patiently on his nightstand. Jake shuddered at the memory and focused on his father.

"This isn't…what you think… it is," Jake said.

"I need to know how long this has been going on," his father replied.

"Dad, trust me, I haven't relapsed," Jake defended himself. Dr. Abogast, however, tightened his mouth.

"I know," he said flatly. "You act as if I haven't seen a dose of Expectane before. How far along are you?"

The silence in the room exploded like a sonic boom. Jake felt oddly reassured that though his father was concerned about him, it wasn't for the same reason he initially anticipated.

"Almost 15 weeks," Jake said, and his father raised an eyebrow. "Does Mom know?"

Dr. Arbogast nodded, and exhaled loudly. "I couldn't lie to her when I brought you in last night, you know how your mother is, nothing gets past her." He smiled slightly, and Jake returned that smile, but the pleasant atmosphere was short lived. His father got up from the chair to check the IV pouch, and sat closer to Jake.

"You have no idea how worried I was when I saw you last night. On the floor, helpless. And can you imagine the shame I felt? When you were throwing up blood, barely conscious, and I didn't have the slightest clue as to what was going on. I, your father, couldn't even help you, my only son."

Shame flared inside of Jake, the depth of the emotion comparable to the soreness of his back. His father continued:

"While you were sleeping I've been thinking about this," he made circular motions with his hands, "and before I start lecturing you on whatever you did with Expectane, I wanted to hear it in your words. The gracious father in me permits you to speak."

Jake contemplated his options. If he shied away from the truth and made up some bogus reason for his tampering with Expectane, such as accidentally mistaking it for another serum or drug, then he would maintain his father's sympathy. Telling the truth, however, would undoubtedly terminate the experiment, and he would lose his father's trust forever.

Looking at his father, however, dissolved his qualms. Jake forgot how much he identified with the man that raised him. Sure, their physical characteristics put them on opposite ends of the spectrum, it was their hearty and compassionate demeanor that united them.

They were both people persons. They both preferred whiskey over craft beer, football over hockey. They were huggers, stubborn as hell, and never, ever walked through a door before a woman.

Jake took a deep breath, and told him everything. He began with his unhappiness in the lab, worrying that another year was going to waste. He aptly described the drunken night at the bar, which lead to the experiment's conception, followed by the extreme illness that accompanied his consumption of Expectane. He listed his morning sickness symptoms like a true physician in the making, and his dad nodded.

He covered every important detail leading up to the events that occurred last night, and the memory of Quentin deserting him unleashed a deeper feeling of pain inside him.

"That little shithead," Dr. Arboghast responded, shaking his head. Jake mustered a thin smile at his comment, and finished his story. He breathed, and waited for his father to remark on his stupidity, terrible decision making skills, desperateness, etc.

"So," Larry cleared his throat, "if you're 15 weeks pregnant, then I'm fairly confident that the fetus would dissolve naturally if you stop using Expectane, that is, if you haven't already formed an addiction to it. You can return to your normal life, and forget that this happened. I'd be more than glad to call your addiction specialist again—"

"I don't want to," Jake blurted out.

"I wouldn't mention that this was a fertility drug, obviously. I'll go ahead and call-"

"No," Jake blurted, and moved his hand to his abdomen, cautiously. "I want to continue with the experiment."

"Jake…" his father's face shifted into a concerned expression.

"I know you think I'm crazy, and I might be, but it doesn't make sense to end it now, not after so much has happened. Listen—" Jake began, but his father cut him off.

"Do you even _remember_ what state you were in last night? Jake, I was so close to taking you to the emergency room, you were barely hanging on. This," he motioned his hand to Jake's stomach, "isn't working."

"Well ''this' isn't ready to give up, and neither am I. I know I haven't made the best choices in the past and you might view this as a selfish science experiment. I would be lying to you if I told you that it didn't start that way, but it's not like that now; this is sacred," momentum in his impromptu speech was halted as the image of Junior crossed his mind once he found himself quoting her.

The worry in her voice when she answered the phone last night, the fear in her eyes, and the softness of her caring touch as she attempted to aid him deepened his remorse. She was a remarkable woman.

He looked at his father for a long time, then said, "I think I can make this right."

"We," Larry replied, and got up from his seat to smooth out the covers on the bed.

"What?" Jake asked, and straightened up his posture.

"We can make this right," his father answered, and smiled at him gently. "There's no way I'm letting you navigate through this alone.

Jake, stunned by his father's selflessness, was speechless.

"Get some rest, we'll start our work tomorrow," he said as he closed the door.

For the first time in what seemed like months, Jake took a sigh of relief, knowing that he was—that they were—going to be alright.


	13. Rekindle

"The table's all set. Is there anything else you need me to do?" Junior asked as she delicately placed the remaining plates on the counter.

Her mother scooped diced tomatoes into a salad bowl, then looked at the plates. "Put all of them at the table; Larry and his son are coming over tonight."

Junior cursed under her breath. It was annoying enough that Jules and her husband were coming over for an intimate "gender reveal" party for their upcoming arrival, but the last person she wanted to see was Jake.

About a month had passed since Junior discovered Jake in the lab that one night, and neither party acknowledged what happened. Since then, she hardly ever saw him; he now started working half days in the lab and she was so engrossed in her own research that she didn't have time to notice him, that or she didn't have the heart to care so deeply about him anymore.

She had her theories. She presumed that she witnessed him relapse, and he had to cut back on hours to complete his therapy and get back on track. Sometimes, she would see his dad drop him off at the lab, which caused her to wonder if he moved back home, but she never had the guts to ask him.

For the next thirty minutes Junior nervously putted about her house, picking up random items and smoothing over different pillows and throw blankets. Her father emerged from his study and made an amused expression as he watched his daughter.

"You fret more than your mother these days," he mused and smiled at her. "Do you realize how difficult that is to achieve?"

Junior could only smile weakly at him until she heard the doorbell ring. Immediately she paralyzed in place. "Allow me," her father said, noticing her discomfort and advanced to the door.

Carefully, Junior hid behind a column in the front foyer and eyed the door suspiciously.

"Jules, you look incredible!" Junior heard her father exclaim, and she took a sigh of relief. She turned the corner to face her sister and her husband, who were both glowing to the point where it made Junior feel nauseous.

"Here, let me take your jackets," Junior offered, and gave Jules a hug. "You're barely showing," she added, after studying her beaming sister. "I thought you were over 20 weeks?"

"24 weeks," Jules replied, and smoothed over her barely pronounced belly. "I haven't gained too much weight for some reason, but the doctors aren't concerned. Everything is perfect, normal, and wonderful!"

Jules turned to kiss her husband Connor on the lips, then smiled at her sister. "It's wonderful to see you, Junior," she said earnestly. "What should I do with _the _cake?"

In Jules' hands was a perfectly sized cake with white fondant frosting. On top was a yellow pacifier, also modeled from fondant. Jules and Connor gave a local bakery the form that indicated the gender of their child—a form they had not looked at yet—and gave the bakers explicit instructions to use food coloring indicating the gender: blue for boy, pink for girl. When they cut into the cake for dessert the news would be shared.

"I can take it. Go ahead and rest inside," Junior assured her sister, and balanced the coats and cake in her arms. Mindlessly she reached for the coat hanger and was about to follow the guests when she heard an all-too familiar voice call from the doorway.

"Hey, Junior."

It was as if the sound of his voice alone triggered a nuclear reaction inside of her and instantly Junior was riding waves of nervousness, excitement, fury, and relief in one tidal motion.

"Hey," she said, and tried not to show the emotion in her voice.

She turned around to face him. Right away, she noticed a difference in him. His complexion no longer appeared ghastly and pale, and his face filled out again after months of gauntness. His blue-green eyes no longer looked haggard and bloodshot and had returned to their unforgettable splendor. He smiled; she dissolved.

Junior always remembered Jake as a strong, imposing, athletic figure. The Jake standing in front of her still had his height and thickness, but he looked more _gentle_, more _joyful. _She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he looked happy.

"Let me help," he offered to take the cake, but she moved quickly.

"Don't worry about it. Can I take your sweater?"

Jake's face hardened for a second as he crossed his arms over his chest. "No thanks," he said quickly, and tugged at the sleeves of his oversized hoodie. "It's kind of chilly."

"We can turn up the heat if you'd like," Junior offered but Jake looked uncomfortable.

"I'm fine. You worry too much," he said, and attempted to smile. "My dad's just parking the car but he'll be coming shortly."

Junior tried to shake off their awkward interaction as they both stepped into the dining room. There, they found Junior's mother coddling over Jules, who was sitting on the couch with Connor. Dr. Hesse, Junior's father, was busy bringing dishes to the table.

"Jake, thank you for stopping by," Junior's mother said, and hugged him. "Take a seat wherever you'd like."

Junior observed Jake as he thanked her mother and walked over to Jules. He took slow, deliberate steps and nervously worked his hands together, which was a stark contrast from his confident swagger earlier this year. She found it irresistibly endearing.

"That's a good look for you, Jules," Jake said.

"Shut up, perv," Jules snapped back jokingly. The two had a hate-filled history that almost rivaled the one he shared with Junior after he tried to date her in high school, but Jake ended up hooking up with her best friend. Junior had to console her sister for weeks.

As soon as Larry walked in the door, Junior's mother ushered everyone to the table and they began to pile food on their plates.

"Your father's told me wonderful things about your research, Junior," Larry said to her halfway through dinner. "How are you enjoying your time in the lab?"

"It's difficult at times, but I'd like to think I'm making progress," Junior said.

"She's being modest. All anyone can talk about is her research. Everyone's incredibly impressed," Jake announced. He quickly made eye contact with her before shoveling salad into his mouth. It was the first comment he made at dinner. Junior blushed and stirred the vegetables on her plate.

Throughout dinner, most of the conversation topics revolved around Dr. Hesse's upcoming speaking engagements, Larry's hectic practice, and Jules' pregnancy. Junior added side commentary when necessary, but Jake was uncharacteristically quiet. Junior noted how timid and unsettled he looked, which only made her heart ache even more for him.

As they finished dinner, Jules began to shift in her seat, her eyes darting around the room excitedly. "It's time for the cake!" she exclaimed, and began to get up.

"Allow me, honey," her husband Connor replied, and rubbed her shoulders.

"Do you think you know what the gender is?" Jake asked.

Jules pursed her lips. "A girl," she whispered.

"What makes you say that?" Junior asked.

"I've been reading up on it," Jules squeaked, and rubbed her barely noticeable stomach. "I only sleep on my right side, I only crave fruit, and my legs haven't swelled up. Apparently those are all signs that you're having a girl."

"Those are wives tales," Jake laughed, and shook his head. "But you're also wrong; you're not carrying big and your skin is clear. You're having a boy."

Junior furrowed her brows and looked at him. "And you know this because…?"

"Oh," Jake blushed and looked down at his empty plate. "I read it once. Bunch of crap though."

"You don't know anything about pregnancy, prick," Jules replied smartly, and beamed as Connor brought the cake.

"You'd be surprised," Jake muttered under his breath, or at least Junior thought she heard him say that. Jules brushed off the comment as Connor passed the knife to Jules

Larry cleared his throat and shot a look at Jake. "Alright! Let's get this show on the road. Jules?" he motioned at the cake.

"I can't believe this moment is finally here!" Jules giggled, and kissed her husband. Together, they made two clean slices into the cake and dramatically pulled out the hefty slice.

The spongy cake was dyed a rich blue. Jules gasped and small applause erupted at the table.

"We're having a boy, babe," Connor looked elated as he caressed his wife's cheek.

"Get ready for laundry baskets filled with sweaty football jerseys," Larry joked and reached over the dinner table to pat Connor on the shoulder.

"Congrats, sister," Junior smiled, and meant it. She got up from her seat to hug her, and she felt Jules cry in her arms. "What's wrong?"

Jules looked at her sister and smiled as tears continued to fall from her eyes. "I can't wait to be a mother," she replied.

To this, Junior began to cry. She looked across the table and saw that Jake was looking at them as well with a smile on his face. If she wasn't mistaken, Junior saw that he appeared misty-eyed. Before she could get a better look at him, he quickly excused himself from the table.

Junior focused again on her sister. "I can already see the soccer mom in you," she said softly, and hugged her again.

"Maybe he'll have his aunt's brains instead of his father's athleticism?" Jules replied.

"Why not both?"

"Why not both," Junior echoed, and kissed her sister on the cheek.

The guests chose to linger at the Hesse's house for coffee and tea after they finished the cake. All Junior wanted to do was head to her old bedroom and curl up and read Nathaniel Hawthorn. Silently, she slipped upstairs and entered her bathroom.

Inside, Junior took a damp washcloth and wiped her face, studying her reflection in the mirror. For 25, she thought she looked somewhat youthful, but for how much longer?

Surely, something inside of her changed when she learned Jules would be having a son; it suddenly made the future feel _real_. But as she congratulated her sister on her impending motherhood, Junior simultaneously felt her own dreams and aspirations slipping away.

Would she have to consign to a life of being the cool, single aunt who was too engrossed in her career to have a family of her own?

Motherhood seemed like a distant dream.

Junior opened the door and was instantly startled to see Jake standing by the door.

"Jake," she sort of yelped. "I put the seat down for you."

He smiled at her joke. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I was hoping to talk to you."

Junior stared into his piercing eyes and gulped. He bit his lip and steadied himself as he attempted to gather the words to say to her. All Junior could do was try not to faint.

"I want to apologize for my inactions recently. You don't deserve to be treated like that and I seriously don't know what I would have done without you that night."

"Jake, you don't have to explain yourself—" Junior began, but Jake silenced her by touching the side of her arm.

"Yes, I do. Junior, I want to make things right again with us. I'm in a different place—a better place—and I hope you believe me when I say that you can trust me," he began, and stroked his thumb across her collarbone. "But I totally understand if you don't want to talk to me again."

"I just care about you," Junior stammered, and tried to fight back tears. She wasn't sure if the tears came from the emotional evening, or this overwhelming sense of calmness and satisfaction she experienced with Jake. It was the Jake she craved, missed, and constantly yearned for.

"I don't deserve your thoughtfulness," Jake sighed. She heard the guilt in his voice. "But I want to make it up to you. Can I see you sometime next week?"

"Of course," Junior replied, a little too quickly.

Jake smiled. "Expect a phone call soon."

He reached forward and kissed her on the cheek, and for once, Junior relaxed.


	14. First Kiss-Kick

"You have somewhere to be?"

Jake almost didn't hear his father's question as he hastily checked his watch. He welcomed the familiar sensation of cool jelly on his abdomen and watched as Larry guided the ultrasound wand over it. He took a moment to register his comment then blinked.

"I'm supposed to meet with Junior in half an hour," he replied, and tiled his back a little. Jake surveyed the undulating movements on the ultrasound screen and located the shapes he knew all too well and grew to adore: the orderly line of ribs, the delicate string that was the spinal chord, and the gentle pulsating rhythm of the baby's tiny, tiny heart.

With only a few weeks left in his second trimester, Jake still had to marvel at the miracle that continued to flourish inside of him. Working with his father proved to be successful beyond measure, leaving both of them speechless. When they tested the Expectane that Quentin had concocted, they found almost a dozen traces of unrecognizable fertility drugs that had yet to be FDA-approved. Larry gradually reduced the dosages back to the original Expectane formula, and within two weeks Jake's morning sickness subsided; he could live like a normal human being again. Still, due to the nature of his unique condition, he now worked half-days at the lab and spent the rest of his time documenting his progress at his parents' house or Larry's private practice. If things continued to go well Larry and Jake made talks of putting Expectane back on the market.

"Ah," Larry said to his comment, and fixed his glasses to get a better look at the ultrasound. "It seems like you've been spending a lot of time together."

"She brings normalcy into my life," he replied.

"She doesn't know about… this, right?" his father asked, and nodded towards Jake's bulging belly.

Jake laughed, causing his round stomach to convulse forward. "Of course not!"

"Relax, I need to get a better picture," his father chuckled. He murmured in agreement as he continued to study the dark figure on the screen. "Everything is perfect in there."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely beautiful," Larry responded, and smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to know the sex? I asked you last time but I just want to make sure."

"Yes," Jake sighed, and rubbed the side of his belly. No matter how many times his father confirmed that the baby was doing great, Jake still didn't want to take his chances. He was amazed at how he, the guy who used to guzzle six packs and treat women like pieces of meat, could love something so small so much.

The thought of a miscarriage alone terrified him. To ease his potential heartbreak he opted to not know if he was carrying a girl or boy, but by no means did this lessen the protection and adoration he had for what was growing inside of him.

"Alright then," his father replied as he handed his son a towel to wipe his belly. "Well the baby is responding well to the slight hormone adjustment I made to last week's dosage of Expectane, so just continue to rest. I'm not sure that pursuing a new relationship is best for you right now, Jake."

"I've known Junior since birth, Dad; it's not like other relationships. And plus, we're taking things very slow. Very, very slow," Jake said. He rested a hand on his stomach and drummed his fingers along the curve of it.

By Jake's standards, not having the sex on the first date would be considered taking things slow, but since the gender reveal party the twosome were practically "courting" although they were considered to be dating. Jake was too ashamed to admit that they hadn't even kissed yet.

Jake was afraid to pursue things heavily with Junior for two reasons, the first being his physical condition. Living with his massive belly definitely caused him to lose a bit of his swagger (quite literally, as Jake now walked with a slow, swaying step to accommodate the rapid weight gain), and he still didn't see how Junior could still be attracted to a man with an abnormally pronounced beer belly.

The second reason stirred deep inside of Jake whenever he spent time with her, and that was the sheer devotion he had for Junior. She was easily the smartest and most caring woman he had ever been with, and at times he didn't know how to handle her thoughtfulness, from the kind notes she left at his cubicle to the brief but loving forms of physical touch she would give him on occasion: a quick squeeze of the hand when they met up for coffee to a simple pat on his back as they passed by each other of the lab.

Jake didn't deserve Junior, which is why he had to preserve himself in order not to hurt her.

"I trust you," Larry said to his son, and helped him off the table. "Alex and I will try not to meddle."

"You better not. He already mistrusts me. Whenever I see him these days he gives me a funny look," Jake remarked.

"What do you mean?" Larry sounded mildly panicked.

"He's probably wondering why I'm running around with his daughter, I don't know. Maybe he's impressed with my beer belly," he said, and studied his side profile in the mirror. "Dad, I'm huge."

"You're built like a linebacker and eating for two. I'm not surprised."

"I'm repulsive," Jake shook his head and gave his father a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you, too. I would stay clear from Dr. Hesse. He's… very intuitive."

Jake smiled at his father, unsure what to make of his last statement, and closed the door behind him.

Later that evening, Jake and Junior sat on opposite ends of his couch in his apartment, reminiscing over old high school yearbooks.

"Jake Arboghast: Most Likely to be Dr. McDreamy," Junior said with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. "Still partly true."

"Now you're making me feel bad," Jake replied, and tugged at his sweater. "Well, I did have an interview last weekend at UCSF."

"No way! You didn't tell me that!" Junior exclaimed. "Congratulations."

"I guess we'll just wait and see, but don't get your hopes up," he said, and looked back at the yearbook on his lap. "Let's see here. Junior Hesse: Most Individualistic. I couldn't agree more."

Junior hit him playfully on the arm. "I was going through a phase in high school. You never failed to ridicule me."

"It was kind of hard not to, Junior. You wore chokers and quoted Marcus Aurelius."

"Minor details," she waved him off. "I still don't know how our parents didn't' see how much we detested each other growing up, and now…" her voice trailed off, and looked at him.

"Here we are," Jake said with a smile. "More wine?"

"Please," Junior responded and offered her empty glass.

Slowly, as to not fully give away his side profile, Jake got up from his side of the couch and balanced both of their cups in one hand and headed to the kitchen. They usually spent their date nights like this, in low-key and non-threatening settings to suit Junior's comfort levels and Jake's constantly draining energy.

Nevertheless, this wasn't how he usually got to know girls, but he was very content with where they stood. Very, very content.

In one glass, Jake poured a hefty portion of Welch's grape juice and in the other he filled it with red wine.

He returned to the room and offered Junior a glass. He turned to go to the other end of the couch but she delicately wrapped her hand around his wrist and brought him next to her.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked, trying to ignore how quickly his heart was beating.

"Nothing, silly," Junior pursed her lips in a smile. "Come sit next to me."

Wordlessly, Jake sat next to her. Their legs grazed each other as Junior shifted her weight to face him. Her hair hung loosely around her face, and even with no makeup, her presence alone took Jake's breath away.

"I'm happy you gave me a second chance, Junior," Jake pronounced honestly. "I can't tell you how thankful you make me feel."

She sighed, and smiled at him before taking a sip of her wine. Suddenly, Junior made a confused look. "That's not Zinfandel."

"Maybe you've had one too many," he tried to joke but she moved to grab the other cup and take a sip.

"That's odd," she took another sip, and stared at the first glass. "Jake, why are you drinking grape juice?"

Jake tugged at his sweater again—a nervous gesture—and gulped. He stared into her deep chocolate eyes, and felt her genuine concern permeate into his heart. He was sick of lying to her, sick of hiding things. But he was also sick of losing her, and telling her the truth would do just that.

"I'm in therapy," Jake stammered, and looked down at his belly, still amazed by its spherical perfection. Junior didn't say anything, but instead reach over to stroke his forearm. "That night at the lab, that was when you saw me at rock bottom. Junior I'm so sorry—" he began, but Junior cut him off.

"Please don't apologize," she replied softly.

"But I feel like you deserve one," he replied, feeling the remorse build up inside of him as he told her yet another lie. "You've done too much for me, and I haven't even thanked you. I've been seeking treatment for a few months now. That's why you rarely see me at the lab now; I've been trying to focus on my health and getting better."

Jake loosened up, impressed with his partial lie. Junior nodded her head slowly and furrowed her eyebrows. They sat there, in silence, until Jake spoke up again.

"If you don't want to see me again I completely—"

"Jake," Junior replied sharply. "Stop."

"I'm not sure I—"

With that, Junior leaned forward and kissed Jake on the lips. He caught his breath in a moment of surprise and, after recognizing what had just happened, kissed her in return. When she pulled back and stared at him, he saw a sliver of mischief in her eyes. They both grinned.

Junior moved from her spot and swiftly positioned herself on top of him and straddled Jake as they continued to kiss. Jake, whose belly acted as a barrier from any form of physical contact these past few months, dissolved in Junior's movements. He hadn't been close with someone in a long time, but with Junior, it felt uncannily natural to be with her, sharing that moment.

"You're a good kisser," Jake breathed into Junior's ear as she kissed his neck. She murmured something in approval and continued to make Jake's toes curl with her kisses.

All of the sudden, Jake felt the baby deliver four powerful kicks on the right side of his protruding stomach.

"Oh my God," he growled and tenderly massaged that area of his belly.

"What?" Junior immediately stopped, sensing annoyance in his voice.

"Oh!" Jake panicked, and saw the confusion in her face. "It's just…" his voice trailed off as he searched for another half-baked lie. "I just feel embarrassed."

"What do you mean?" Junior leaned into a sitting position in his lap and looked hurt.

"It's not you, it's just," Jake tugged at his sweater again, and sighed, "I've gained a lot of weight in therapy, and I'm not really proud of the condition that my body's in right now. I'm used to being in tip-top shape. I want to impress you, Junior."

Jake could feel himself sweating nervously as Junior studied his face. Slowly, her eyes traveled past his shoulders and onto his abdomen area. They lingered there for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

"I don't care what you look like. I just want to be with you, Jake," she leaned in and kissed him again. "I need to leave soon, anyway."

Jake breathed and leaned into her to return the kiss before she got up, opening his lips slightly as he smiled.

The baby kicked when they hugged each other goodbye, and once more when they kissed before she left. Jake thought it was a good sign.


	15. Missing

Panic seethed inside Junior' stomach as she completed her inventory for the fifth time.

At the beginning of her experiment with freezing eggs, Junior surveyed 36 samples. Now, she only had 35.

She bit her lip and cursed under her breath, trying to understand what caused this conundrum. Surely, this would affect her research results and grant money, but there were more personal things at stake…

Hunched over her laptop, trying to locate the last time she input data with the 36th sample, Junior was about to explode when she heard someone approach her cubicle.

"Lunch in five? I brought your favorite avocado dip."

Junior paused briefly to acknowledge Jake's presence. He stood there, innocently, holding up his lunch thermos with a concerned look on his face.

"Not today, Jake. Something terrible happened."

"What's wrong?"

Junior tried to stifle a sob. "I can't find one of my eggs."

Slowly, Jake set his thermos down at her desk and moved closer to her. "Where did you last put it?"

"I don't just _put _them anywhere, Jake. I don't know where it is," she spat out. Just then, the tears began to pour out and she heaved over her desk.

Jake placed his sturdy hands on her arms, and the sheer act alone caused her to regain her composure. "I'm sorry, Junior. Hey, let's go for a walk. Maybe that will clear your head?"

She nodded, and slipped her hand into his as Jake guided them out the door.

Outside, the fresh spring air welcomed them and they began their stroll. There was a park within walking distance; this was where Jake and Junior would often spend their lunch hour or take breaks to talk in privacy.

"Tell me what's going on," Jake asked gently. He kept holding her hand and was now massaging it with his thumb.

Junior breathed. "I started out my morning by taking inventory of the eggs. I've focused more of my attention on five specific samples, but I thought I'd check up on the other ones and scaffold my research.

"My project initially started with 36 sample donors. That's how many my grant money would allow. However, when I counted them, I only found 35. I checked twice, three times, four times. By the fifth time I was sure that it was missing," Junior said deliberately.

She noticed that Jake had slowed his pace (he already walked slower these days, but Junior didn't mind), but he didn't stop holding her hand. "I thought you threw away your samples?"

Junior furrowed her brows and looked at him. "Threw them away? I didn't do that. That's ludicrous. Who told you that?"

Jake cowered away. "Someone in the lab. I must have been mistaken. Anyway, when was the last time you had this sample?"

Junior pondered for a moment. "Well, my initial research started by providing general characteristics about the eggs in the general sample. I then isolated each sample in order to group them and test them, which is what I'm doing now. But my last documented analysis on the 36th sample was about seven months ago."

Jake paused and let go of her hand. "Seven months ago," he echoed, not making eye contact with her. He tugged at the end of his sweater and then wiped his forehead. "You're sure of this?"

"Almost positive. Give or take a few weeks but I haven't seen it since then," she continued, then pointed to the picnic tables at the park. "Let's go sit there. There's more to tell you."

They sat across from each other. Junior reached for his hands, almost as a way to steady herself as she resumed her story. Jake latched on to her hands, but she felt like they were hesitant, almost cautious. She tried to ignore it.

"You and I both agree that we came into this year with low expectations. I didn't think I would find enjoyment in freezing eggs for an entire year, so I thought I would make it a little more personal, you know, to remain invested in my research."

"Personal?" Jake's voice almost squeaked.

"Jake, please don't judge me," Junior's voice started to quiver. "I froze my egg in my research. My egg is the one that's now missing."

Junior felt her last words linger in the air. She didn't dare look at Jake because she was afraid of his reaction, but she felt his hands slowly slip from hers.

"I even named it," she continued. Jake raised an eyebrow. "Jordan. Nice, unisex name. After one of my favorite poets, too. June Jordan. But that's beside the point."

She heard Jake exhale deeply.

"You've been missing one of the eggs in your research," Jake said, pronouncing each word carefully.

"Yes."

"For seven months," he continued.

"Affirmative."

"And that egg is yours?" this time, Jake's voice went an octave higher, forcing Junior to lock eyes with him.

"100% mine."

The look on his face was a mixture of utter shock and guilt, but this was Junior's unpolished observation. Jake leaned back from the table and began to rub his stomach. She took a moment from her current sensation of anxiety to note how it seemed as if Jake put on even more weight recently. Not that she cared. Rather, she liked the rounder, more jovial Jake. It was a stark contrast from his former beer-guzzling and girl-chasing days. It was a Jake she could call hers.

"I don't know what to tell you," Jake stammered, and quickly glanced downward. "I'll ask around, but maybe your egg will turn up eventually. I doubt anyone—"

"Stole it," Junior finished for him. "See, that's what I think, and if that's the case, I'm worried to notify our supervisors since what I did technically wasn't allowed. But what was someone doing with samples, anyway? We might have a theft in the lab."

"Could be," Jake replied flatly, and checked his watch. "Let's get back. My dad's picking me up soon."

They walked back in silence, not even holding hands. Junior felt detached from Jake, despite weeks of spending quality time together. She immediately regretted telling him about her own self experiment, wondering if that's why she sensed this sudden coldness when she needed him most.

Junior tried not to think about this sudden attitude reversal in Jake, her missing egg, or the tampering of her research as she said goodbye to him in front of the lab.

He gave her a quick hug before turning to his dad's car, but Junior grabbed his hand and moved him closer.

"Hey, want to come over for dinner tomorrow? I'll make your favorite chicken parmesan, but maybe with reduced-fat mozzarella this time. You said we would work on this weight thing together," she suggested and smoothed over her stomach, referencing his own protruding gut which he frequently tried to hide in baggy clothing, but Junior could care less what he looked like.

"Together," Jake repeated solemnly, and tugged at his sweater once more. "I don't know about tomorrow, maybe later this week."

"I was only joking," she tried to say, but he had already turned his back to her.


	16. Déjà Vu

Once Jake lowered his stout frame into his father's car, he began to hyperventilate.

"Jake," Dr. Arbogast said, alarmed. "Jake, what's going on?"

He continued to breathe, unable to fully grasp the true gravity of the situation.

Jake was pregnant with Junior's baby, and he was due to give birth in two months.

"I did—something—bad," Jake said in between staggered breaths. "The baby—"

"Jake, you need to breathe. Calm down," Larry tried to soothe his son, but Jake continued to inhale and exhale with an indescribable harshness. "You need to focus on breathing."

He put a firm hand on Jake's shoulder. "Think about the little one."

The last plea reached him, and he slowly started to regulate his breathing. Meanwhile, Larry had pulled over into a random parking lot and waited as Jake returned to normal.

"Are you better?" Larry asked. Jake nodded. "Ok. Tell me what's going on."

"When I initially told you how this experiment came to be, I mentioned that the donor egg was taken from Junior's study because Quentin told me that she was throwing them away. Quentin lied to me," Jake straightened his posture and spoke deliberately. He looked at his father, who had a quizzical look on his face, then continued.

"So the egg that we used is stolen property, which is my first offense, but—"

Larry held up a hand. "There's more?"

"Yes," Jake gulped. "Quentin and I picked an egg at random without paying much attention to names. We assumed the egg was an anonymous donor. Well, I just had lunch with Junior and I found out who the mother is."

Larry looked straight into Jake's piercing blue eyes. "Jake, whose baby are you carrying?"

He looked down at his belly. "Junior's."

"Well I'll be damned," Larry cried out. "Are you sure?"

Jake nodded, still unable to make eye contact with his father.

"This is déjà vu all over again," Dr. Arbogast said in a low voice, and began to take out his phone.

This caused Jake to look up. "Déjà vu?"

"We need to get this resolved now," Larry began to type in his phone.

"Dad, I'm confused," Jake said, but he didn't hear him.

"Alex! Alex, it's Larry," his father said into his phone, trying to falsify a happy tone. "Hey listen, are you home right now? I want to stop by and tell you something… it could be good news, yes, depending on how you look at it," Larry looked at his son from the corner of his eye. "Alright, see you soon."

"Dad, I'm confused," Jake repeated as soon as his father hung up. "Why are we going to Dr. Hesse? Is it a good idea that we start telling others before Junior? Why did you say déjà vu? Can you tell me what's going on?"

"It will make sense when we get there. I can't answer any questions right now. Just wait," Larry said distractedly as he pulled out of the parking lot.

During the drive to the Hesse residence, Jake bounced his leg nervously as he generated a million questions in his mind. What was behind his father's cryptic messages? Why was Junior's dad the first person that came to his mind after Jake told him the news?

Indescribably unsettled, Jake kept his mouth shut and tried to stifle his nerves as he slowly heaved his large body out of the car. He and his father slowly walked up the steps to the Hesse's house.

"Larry, what an odd surprise," Dr. Hesse said, and enveloped his father in a big hug. "Jake, always a pleasure to see you," he said and shook his hand, a noticeable edge to his voice. Dr. Hesse was very protective of his daughters, but Jake saw that he had a soft spot for Junior.

"Alex, I've got a bit of news to share," Larry began as soon as they entered the house.

"Is it about your new physician's assistant at your practice? I've been wondering whom you decided to hire," Dr. Hesse said gently.

"Is anyone home?" Larry rushed.

"Diana is traveling this weekend. Junior is at the lab, and Jules is on her way back from her babymoon with Connor."

"Babymoon?" Jake interjected.

"Don't ask," Alex chuckled. "Tell me the news!"

"Alex, I need you to sit down for this," Larry began. Alex obliged, but had a concerned look on his face. "Someone's been testing out Expectane again."

"I'm not sure I follow. That drug hasn't been in circulation for years."

"Listen," Larry sighed, then looked at Jake. "You're having another grandchild."

Dr. Hesse was silent for a moment. "Larry, I don't understand your sense of humor."

Jake and Larry exchanged nervous glances. "Jake, show him."

"Show me—" Alex began, but at that moment, Jake wordlessly lifted up his roomy sweater and displayed his massive protruding belly.

Shock and silence pervaded into the room where the three men stood. Dr. Hesse locked his eyes directly on Jake's stomach with such intensity it made Jake uncomfortable. When he slowly started to make his way to him, Jake quivered in fear.

He stopped right in front of Jake, who gripping the edge of his sweater with all his might, and bent down to get a closer look at the globe-like presence of his abdomen. Jake's heart continued to pound as he tried to find the words to say. He quickly looked at his father, who was anxiously observing his old friend.

Still staring at Jake's belly, Dr. Hesse whistled and said, "And Ithought _I_ carried big."

At that comment, Jake rapidly covered his stomach again and stepped backwards.

"Jake, you're not the first person who's tested Expectane on themselves," Dr. Arbogast said. Dr. Hesse walked next to old colleague.

"You're not the first _man_," Dr. Hesse corrected, and smiled. Jake shivered as a mixture of uncertainty, fear, and intrigue permeated throughout him.

"I-I-I'm not sure what's going on," was all Jake could muster.

"There's a lot we haven't told you, and there's a lot you have to tell me," Dr. Hesse said gently. "Let's go take a seat."

Jake slowly nodded and followed Dr. Hesse to the sofa. The three men positioned themselves in a circle: Dr. Hesse and Larry sat in armchairs while Jake took the entire sofa to himself.

"25 years ago, Larry and I paired up together and concocted Expectane," Dr. Hesse began, and stretched out his long legs. "When it came time to ask the FDA to begin testing on humans, we were flat-out denied."

"Bastards," Dr. Arbogasts muttered under his breath, and Dr. Hesse laughed.

"To make matters worse, they terminated funding for my own research, so I was left feeling alone, directionless, and utterly depressed. But then your father, your rascal of a father approached me with a novel idea."

"You're talking about me as if I'm crazy," Larry protested, but Alex rolled his eyes.

"He found a colleague in Canada would be willing to sell Expectane, only if they could find a human specimen willing to test the drug on themselves. I was young, incredibly in shape, with nothing to lose. So…" Dr. Hesse's voice trailed off as he looked at Jake.

Jake took a moment to register his last comment. Immediately, everything hit him at once.

"No!" Jake gasped. "You carried to term?"

Dr. Hesse nodded proudly. "Zero complications, smooth sailings for nine months. Expectane truly was a wonder drug. And your father is an outstanding physician."

Jake looked at his father, who was also smiling in a nostalgic way; watching the two old friends interact was remarkably endearing. Jake returned to the story.

"But the donor egg, and the baby," Jake began.

"Diana had a grant for her cryogenics research around the same time I lost funding. Larry was _supposed_ to find an anonymous donor, but—"

"But what?" Larry exploded. "How was I supposed to know that the egg was hers? Are you ever going to let go? After all of these years—"

"Oh my God," Jake interjected, and promptly placed a hand on his colossal belly. "_You_ gave birth to Junior?"

"She weighed 7 pounds, 6 ounces. Was a massive kicker, that one," he replied.

Jake stared at both men in disbelief. How could they have kept a secret like this for 25 years? If they couldn't tell Junior that her own father birthed her, then how could Jake ever tell her that he was carrying their child? Yet, he couldn't believe how truly incredible Dr. Hesse and his father were, unearthing possibly the greatest science experiment of all time and keeping it to themselves.

They were insane, humble geniuses. This Jake concluded.

"I'm having her baby, and she doesn't know," Jake said quietly, still resting his hand on his belly.

When he looked for Dr. Hesse's reaction, he was expecting fury beyond measure, but what he saw was the complete opposite: warmth and sincerity as he nodded slowly.

"You're… not mad?" stammered Larry.

"How could I be?" Dr. Hesse responded. "Being pregnant was the best thing that happened to me. It brought me closer to Diana and gave me the greatest gift I could ever imagine: fatherhood. "

"Dr. Hesse, when Quentin and I initially began testing Expectane, we had no idea that we accidentally used Junior's egg. Please know that I will raise this child the best that I can, and I'm sorry that—" Jake began, quickly, but Dr. Hesse waved it off.

"You are apologizing to the wrong person. No one could be more understanding of your condition, Jake. When Larry and I started out, it was merely an experiment, nothing more. But, as I'm sure you can relate, being pregnant _transformed _me in an indescribable way. Never have I felt such a ferocious love for someone," Dr. Hesse recounted, and looked earnestly into Jake's eyes.

Suddenly, Jake no longer saw Dr. Hesse as merely an old family friend. He was his ally, and perhaps the only person in this world who could possibly empathize with his situation.

"You do need to answer a question for me, Jake."

Jake nodded.

"Do you love my daughter?"

Jake paused, simply because he was caught off-guard with the question. How could he describe the relationship he had with Junior at this point? Overcoming almost 25 years of pure hatred to this inexplicable conundrum? He couldn't decide which would bring a greater heartbreak: losing Junior when he tells her the truth or keeping this secret and erasing the potential to have a happy, united family with her.

"Deeply, sir," Jake responded, and was surprised to feel tears prick his eyes.

"Well then," Dr. Hesse said as he got up, "that is all I needed to know."

"What do you suggest we do, Alex?" Larry asked as he got up from his chair.

"Jake needs to tell her. But I believe that I should tell her my story as well. Perhaps that will ease her frustration, anger, or confusion when she finds out. Here, let me help you up. I know how it is," Dr. Hesse said reassuringly as he walked to Jake and offered his hands to lift him up.

"But will she understand?" Jake said as he stretched his aching back.

"Yes," Dr. Hesse said, "Junior is like me in that she can be irrevocably stubborn in some ways. But if she is her mother's daughter then she will be compassionate and see the true blessing in this."

"Are you sure this is the best option?" Jake implored, still concerned about the decision.

Dr. Hesse studied him for a brief moment. "For you, the baby, and Junior, absolutely."

With that, the three men entered the kitchen and began to discuss their plan.


	17. The Truth (Part I of III)

As soon as Junior got the text from Jake, she knew exactly what he was going to reveal.

Junior knew as soon as she saw Jake's reaction when she told him about her frozen eggs experiment, and how detached she felt from him since then.

Junior knew that Jake was going to break up with her.

_How could he not? _This was the thought that kept racing through her mind as she drove to his place on Saturday afternoon. She felt ashamed for mentioning her self experimentation and knew it probably creeped him out. But it was more than that. Jake was clearly giving her signs that he needed his space, but her selfishness and downright addiction to his company made it impossible to _not _want to be with him.

She was madly in love with Jake and could not fathom the thought of being away from him.

Junior collected her floundering thoughts as she parked by his townhome complex and got out of the car. She exhaled slowly and tried to imagine the events that were about to transpire, but that was a difficult task in itself.

Jake must have seen her arrive because he opened the door before she reached the top steps. As soon as she saw him, Junior felt warmth and pure adoration radiate inside of her. The only other feeling she could somewhat equate this to was when Junior would stay up late as a child, waiting for her father to return home from extended medical conferences. While Jules was either asleep or spending her nights chatting to her many romantic interests, Junior would putter around the house, make sure everything was in order, eagerly awaiting for his arrival. When her father was around, she felt safe and at peace.

This feeling was only elevated when she was around Jake, and she felt these same emotions as she greeted him with a tender hug. He managed to muster a small smile.

"Hey, babe," she said, and titled her head to look into his piercing blue eyes. She stood on the tip of her toes to kiss him lightly on the lips. This caused her to lean slightly into his impressive beer belly that she secretly thought made Jake look adorable though she would never say this to him, since he never so much as wore clothing that would even _hint_ at his weight gain.

Junior felt hesitance in that brief kiss, and furrowed her brows at him. "What's wrong?" she asked, clearly knowing what was on his mind.

Jake sighed and quickly glanced past her. "Come in. I want to talk about something."

Junior walked in and almost instantly began to speak.

"Jake, I know what you're going to tell me."

He closed the door with an unexpected abruptness and crossed his arms over his chest. She saw him gulp. "What do you mean?" he replied in a low tone, casting his eyes to the ground.

"I knew as soon as I told you about Jordan that something inside of you triggered," Junior continued, and looked over his tall—but very portly—frame.

Jake immediately started to fiddle with his gray sweater and barely made eye contact with her. "You know?"

"Jake, I've loved spending these months with you, but I know that I can't make you want to be with me," Junior began. "But that doesn't mean I won't be upset when you—"

She stopped midsentence to stare at his apartment. Junior surveyed boxes labeled "Office" and "Bedroom" stacked up on top of each other. There were other large, opened boxes sprawled on the floor with bundles of bubble wrap and newspaper strewn about.

"Wait, are you moving?"

Jake gave her a startled look. "Moving? What? Where did you get that from?"

Junior pointed to the boxes, "Are you breaking up with me because you're moving?"

Jake slowly walked to her, and gently placed his hands on her arms. "Wait, you thought I was going to break up with you?"

Junior nodded slowly, unsure how to interpret his tone.

"Junior, that couldn't be further from the truth," Jake said, and before he could continue she shrugged his hands off her shoulders and threw her hands up in the air.

"Jake, one day we're involved in a loving and committed relationship, and the next thing you know we keep secrets from each other. Or at least that's how I feel since I can't even read you anymore. You're cold, distant, and hiding something from me. I just know it."

They looked at each other for several moments, either party unable to express how they truly feel.

"Jake, I need you to be honest with me," Junior stammered after the extended silence.

"Junior," Jake said her name with a sigh, and looked at her with sad, forlorn eyes. "I don't know if you'll ever trust me again."

"If you're not moving, and you're not breaking up with me, then what's going on with you? You can tell me anything," Junior said softly.

Jake shifted his weight and shoved his hands in his pockets. "If I tell you, you won't believe me, or worse, you won't be able to handle it. "

"Try me," Junior declared.

"I know where Jordan is," Jake whispered.

"You know where Jordan is! Tell me!" Junior exclaimed.

Jake lowered his head and stared at the ground. She sensed that it was difficult for him to go on, but she was impatient and eager to find out where her beloved eggs were, as well as angered that Jake would keep a secret like this from her for weeks.

"Jordan's right here," Jake said in a hushed tone and gingerly placed his hand on top of his expansive belly. "Junior, I'm pregnant."

"Cut the crap, Jake. Now's not the time to joke. Just tell me," replied Junior, clearly not amused.

"Junior, I'm pregnant," Jake repeated, and moved closer to her. She searched in his face for any hint of jest or humor, but he looked stoic, almost stern. Junior narrowed her eyes as Jake continued.

"At the beginning of my research position at the lab, Quentin and I wanted to perform an experiment that would set us apart when we applied for med school for the upcoming cycle. We were rummaging through the storage closet and came across old dosages of Expectane, the fertility drug our fathers concocted together twenty-five years ago.

"There was no way for us to find a willing female subject to test the drug on us, so after some coercion—well, after a lot of coercion," Jake paused to laugh lightly at the distant memory, "we decided that I would be the best subject to carry the fetus."

Junior held up a hand. "_You_ would carry fetus?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yes," Jake nodded.

"But you told me you were in rehab," Junior protested, but Jake shook his head.

"Just a cover up," he claimed. "Naturally, I can't drink alcohol and there was bound to be some weight gain. I've been cutting back hours just so I can take it easy and monitor my, um, condition. And as for those boxes," he began, pointing to the ones she spotted earlier, "I'm just clearing stuff out for the baby's room."

Junior stared at him, in awe, still unable to determine if Jake was telling the truth. At this point, Jake and Junior were mere inches from each other. Slowly, Junior's eyes traveled down to his stomach, which was occupying most of the space between them. It was unbelievably large, almost perfectly spherical. The rest of his body remained fairly muscular and slender, but it looked like he smuggled an overinflated beach ball underneath his sweater, which was clearly taut and tightly covering the growth inside of him.

Suddenly this myth of "weight gain" seemed less likely.

She gulped, and cautiously placed her fingers on his belly, her heart rate accelerating by the second. She only touched it for a millisecond, but the sheer hardness of it—as opposed to soft, fleshy fat—caused her to yelp, and she backtracked several yards.

"Jake," she hissed. "It can't _be_. This isn't possible!"

"It is," he replied in a low tone, then furrowed his brows. "Junior, this next part may upset you."

Junior, unable to speak, only widened her eyes as she tried to comprehend what Jake was telling her.

"We had to find a donor egg to complete the experiment. Quentin lied and told me that you were going to throw away your frozen eggs, so he took one at random."

"What?!" Junior blurted out. "How could he say such a thing? That imbecile, that liar that—"

"Asshole," Jake finished the sentence for her, then placed a hand on the side of his bump. "I later learned that he could not be trusted, but we used one of your eggs. After the conversation we had a few weeks ago, I learned which egg we used. Junior, I am so, so sorry."

Jake stopped speaking, and looked at her. Without even saying anything, Junior knew he was begging for mercy.

Unfortunately, Junior didn't have any in her.

"Are you telling me that you have contradicted all natural laws of human nature to conceive a child just for some science experiment to improve your resume?"

"No, Junior, please—" Jake began, but Junior cut him off.

"Let me finish," she snapped, her volume level rising as she began to walk up to him. "Are you telling me that you stole samples from my own research, which also happens to be my personal property, my own eggs? You fertilized Jordan with your sperm?"

Jake, defeated, only nodded his head.

"Are you telling me that, despite all of this _and _lying to me for, how many months?" Junior paused to think for a moment.

"Seven months," Jake barely squeaked.

"Seven months!" Junior screamed, but then observed him and his robust body once more. "Seven months? Are you sure you're only seven months pregnant?"

"I'm carrying out in front," Jake offered.

"It doesn't matter," she spat out. "Despite stealing Jordan, lying about it, and being selfish, you are asking me for _forgiveness_? How dare you!"

Out of fury Junior slapped Jake across the face, and proceeded to slap him again on the other side of his face.

"Junior, I only want what's best for our baby," Jake tried to say.

"_Our _baby? _Our _baby! You have no right to claim anything if this was all a part of a science experiment, you selfish son of a—"

"But it isn't like that anymore," Jake moved his arm to shield his gigantic belly, almost as if he were protecting it from Junior's wrath.

"There is _no _way I will ever forgive you for this. I can't even _look _at you right now," Junior noticed that there were tears streaming down her face. "And to think that I loved you."

Jake straightened up a bit. "What did you say?"

"I said I loved you, but that will never be again," Junior snarled.

"Junior," he breathed, "I love you more than you will ever know, and that's why I wanted to tell you the truth. I want to have a future with you. For us," he pleaded, then moved closer to her. Junior saw that there were tears in his eyes, too.

"There will _never _be an us," Junior sputtered and she choked over a sob.

Swiftly, Junior grabbed her purse and maneuvered past the heavily expectant man and left, slamming the door behind her.

In her teary state Junior couldn't make out any digits on her cellphone, but it didn't matter. The contact that she was about to dial had been etched in her muscle memory.

It was the only person in the entire world that she wanted to talk to at that moment, the only person in the entire world that could possible comfort her after this catastrophe.


	18. The Truth (Part II of III)

Dr. Hesse heard his home phone ring.

He was burrowed in the depths of his study, surveying old files that needed to be organized when he heard the familiar tune.

He heard the phone ring, and he smiled; he knew his plan was working.

He lumbered up the steps to the bright kitchen and confidently picked up the phone.

"You do realize that you're the only person who calls our home phone number, sugar. With this smartphone nonsense your generation has forgotten the classic qualities of the landline," Dr. Hesse articulated.

"Dad," Junior sobbed into the phone. "Dad, I need to come home right now."

"Is everything alright?" her father tried to feign a tone of genuine concern, though he clearly knew what was going on.

"I-I-I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about it. But I just want to go home and be with you," she stammered. Hearing her sound so defeated on the phone triggered intense nurturing instincts, something that Dr. Hesse first felt when he was pregnant with her all those years ago.

"I'll be here, waiting for you, dove," Dr. Hesse assured her.

"I love you," she whimpered.

"And I adore you," he replied. "Drive safe."

As soon as he hung up the phone, Dr. Hesse began to pace around his empty home. Strange, unexpected emotions fluttered inside of him. Feelings of confidence, strength, and protectiveness were replaced with something unsteady.

What he feeling nervous? Was he doubting his decision to tell Junior the truth?

Dr. Hesse stopped in his tracks and paused to think. After he confessed his pregnancy to Junior, everything would irreversibly change.

He and Diana agreed to keep his pregnancy a secret until Junior was mature enough to understand the implications of his experiment, but they never really agreed on when that would be. Dr. Hesse wanted to tell her after her high school graduation, but Diana thought that the announcement should be brought on by a more significant life event, such as Junior's own pregnancy.

Dr. Hesse never thought in a million years that Junior would share the same experience with her own mother, being thrown into an unexpected pregnancy with completely unorthodox circumstances. He would never, ever forget the pure wrath that his now-wife of almost 25 years unleashed when he revealed his condition. The two months he spent waiting listlessly for her response were unbearable and devastating, but those were only miniscule memories in comparison to the blissful and fulfilling life they built together.

Dr. Hesse's heart went out to poor Jake, but he undoubtedly understood his daughter's anger. His hand reached down to smooth his flat stomach, reminiscing on its formerly swollen and bulging state from over two decades ago.

He brushed off any doubts he had as he watched his daughter pull into the driveway and walk up to the front doorstep. When Dr. Hesse opened the door, Junior instantly she dissolved in his arms.

"Tell me what you need," her father cooed as he rubbed her back.

"Can you just hold me?" Junior sniffled as another sob rocked her body.

"Of course," he replied, and they stayed like that for a few minutes. Eventually, she pried herself away from her father's embrace.

"I'm going to rest upstairs for a bit," she said in a dejected tone, and turned to climb up the stairs to her bedroom. Dr. Hesse thought about saying something to Junior as she left, but didn't want to push his boundaries. Yet.

Two hours later, Dr. Hesse went to check on his daughter.

"Junior, dear, I brought you dinner. You love your mother's chicken casserole," her father presented. He stood outside her door, and waited to hear her response.

"I'm not very hungry," Junior replied, her voice muffled.

He sighed, and retreated down the steps.

When he returned upstairs for the second time, it was nightfall. Dr. Hesse had not heard any noise coming from Junior's room, and he was growing impatient. With him he carried an old, tattered manila envelope and a warm, damp washcloth.

Without knocking, Dr. Hesse swiftly opened the door and entered the dark room. He turned on a lamp resting on her organized desk, and located his daughter resting in her bed. He crept closer to see if she was sleeping, but her eyes—albeit swollen and red—were wide open, staring at the wall.

"Junior, talk to me," he urged. He took a seat at the edge of her bed.

She responded but turning her body to face the other direction.

"C'mon then," he said gently as he began rubbing her feet under the covers. "You've always told me everything, ever since you were little. Even your grade school crushes. You can always count on me to understand, or at least listen."

To this, Junior slowly straightened up, bringing her covers near her. Dr. Hesse offered her the washcloth to wipe her face and she accepted it graciously as she told him what happened.

"Tell me how you're feeling," her father said softly after Junior finished her story.

"Well, first of all, I'm shocked that this is happening and I feel totally and utterly unprepared. I mean, Jake is _pregnant_. He's a walking scientific miracle. But at the same time, I'm unboundedly furious at him. I mean, Dad, he _stole my eggs_! Without my permission! And now he expects me to be on board with raising a child with him!"

"Are you not?" her father asked quietly.

"Not like this, no! He conceived this child only for the benefit of research, and selfishly took anything that would help him, not concerned with the consequences. If he's trying to make a statement about male dominance and the power struggle between genders, then he's doing it in a real asshole-ish way," Junior replied.

"But I thought you two were in a relationship," her father began, but she shook her head.

"Yes, we were, but after this, I don't know if those feelings remain," she said, her voice satiated with sadness. "But underneath it all, Dad, I'm scared."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I'm not a good mother?" she whispered. "Jake's been carrying the baby around for seven months. I haven't made any connection with it whatsoever. I know nothing about the baby."

"Junior, that's the least of your concerns," her father consoled. "You are a remarkable person, and would made an even more remarkable mother. That is a given, an absolute truth. For Jake to tell you about his condition, that would imply that he _wants _you to raise the baby because it's what the baby needs. Please listen to me," he begged.

"I think what he did was unforgivable, and I am surprised that you are taking his side with this," Junior concluded, and crossed her arms.

At this point, Dr. Hesse moved closer to his cherished daughter and handed her the manila envelope.

"What's this?" Junior asked as she surveyed the worn edges.

"Look through the contents and read it. It will offer you some perspective," her father replied shortly.

She made a confused look on her face. With trepidation, Junior unwound the string around the cardboard button and a thick packet unsheathed from the package.

"_Assisting High Risk Pregnancies through Fertility Drug Expectane: A Case Study_," she read aloud carefully. "It has both your and Jake's dad's names on it. What is this?"

"Keep reading," her father replied in a serious tone.

Junior thumbed through the pages. She opened one at random and squinted her eyes to read the small text. "_At 20 weeks pregnant, Patient has gained 12 pounds and fundal height is 25 centimeters. Signs of morning sickness have subsided. The fetus is responding well to the Expectane treatment, and measures at 7 inches and weighs approximately 12 ounces. Brain and organ development are progressing normally_," she read, then looked up from the page.

"Dad, I'm fully aware that Expectane works, alright? Can you answer some of my questions please?" Junior begged.

"Turn to the last page," her father instructed.

Junior sighed, but decided to go on. "_Patient went into labor naturally at 39 weeks. Patient claims that labor contractions transitioned quickly from latent to active phase and were described as 'powerful'. The baby, gender female, was delivered via standard cesarean section procedure on 5/15 and weighed seven pounds, six ounces_," Junior paused and furrowed her brows.

"That's my birth date," she said to herself as her eyes scanned the page. "And I believe I weighed that exact amount, too. What a coincidence."

Junior looked to her father, and saw the stern expression on his face. Her eyes widened.

"Am I the child referenced here? Mom used Expectane to get pregnant with me? You never told me she was struggling to conceive," she exclaimed, then continued to study her father. His mouth grimaced in a thin smile, and his eyes gazed into hers with a forlorn expression.

"Junior, I need you to look at the Patient Profile document," her father said, his tone even.

Wordlessly, Junior located the page under the Table of Contents and read it aloud. "_Patient in case study is a resident of San Francisco Bay area and works in the medical profession. Patient has a clean health record. Patient is an accomplished athlete with a muscular build and maintains a healthy diet. Patient is described as having _"absolutely no way" _to carry a full-term pregnancy prior to case study. Patient DOB is 1/12. Patient height is 6'1". At beginning of case study, Patient weighed 195 pounds_."

Immediately, the packet slipped from Junior's fingers and fell to the floor. She brought her hands to cover her mouth and her eyes welled up with tears once more.

"Dad," Junior whispered.

"Junior," her father answered, his eyes, too, filling with tears.

"Dad," she repeated. "I want you to show me."

Her father knew exactly what she was referring to, and proceeded to lift up his shirt. It took her a few moments to locate it, but eventually she saw the faded, milky-white ridge of his C-section scar. Junior delicately traced the thick, long scar with her fingers, and then looked up to her father, bewildered.

"In case you're wondering, Jake didn't get the idea from me," Dr. Hesse said, then took her hand in his. "Junior, was there ever a moment growing up in which you felt as if you were treated like a science experiment? That you didn't feel loved or cherished?"

Junior shook her head.

"That's because you never were, love. You were an incredible gift to me, and you brought your mother and me even closer together. It doesn't matter how it all started, it's how you choose to interpret the events that make the difference," her father said lightly, and squeezed her hand. "Believe Jake when he tells you he loves that baby, because that's the purest emotion he's probably ever felt."

"I still have so many questions," Junior murmured to herself, still in disbelief.

"And it's ok if you do," her father said. "But Jake's impending delivery is a reality that you have to face; you need to make a decision. Why don't you text him to come over so you can talk things through?"

"No," Junior protested. "I'm not ready."

Dr. Hesse studied his daughter wistfully. He considered pushing it further, but decided that Junior had gone through enough that day.

"So be it," he declared, and stood up. "Your mother should come home tomorrow from her conference so you can pick her brain, but your more than welcome to stay over tonight."

Junior nodded, and gave her father a gentle smile. "I don't even know if a simple 'I love you' covers it anymore."

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Junior," her father affirmed. He blew her a kiss before closing the door.

He grabbed his own cellphone and punched in several numbers. The person on the other line answered almost immediately.

"Hey Jake," Dr. Hesse couldn't hide his disappointment. "No, I wouldn't suggest coming over now. She needs more time… no don't worry… yes, you can trust me… Jake, calm down… Jake… She'll come around, I promise. Take care of yourself, that's my grandchild you're carrying... alright."

He hung up the phone, and sincerely hoped that his promise to Jake would come true.


	19. Companion

Jake woke up to the sound of his cellphone ringing.

He opened his eyes and tried to reorient himself. It was midday, and Jake's long and now-awkwardly proportioned body was stretched on his leather couch. Disappointment briefly flashed in him as he realized he had taken an unintentional midday nap. Sleep was almost impossible to come by nowadays; whenever he was remotely near a pillow or cushion of sorts, he was a goner.

Normally, he would have let it go to voicemail, but when he thought about who could potentially be calling him, childlike hope bloomed inside of him.

He located his phone at the opposite end of the couch, and sighed, knowing how frustratingly difficult it would be to maneuver his body to answer it. This would have been such a simple task almost eight months ago. Now Jake, the former Iron Man, had consigned to waddling.

Jake turned his body, feeling the weight of his enormous belly with every movement. The phone continued to ring, and he counted to three in his head before lurching out of the couch. He stood up, and shifted his weight. Immediately, he needed to use the bathroom.

"You really don't make life easy for me, kid," Jake grumbled as he rubbed his taut stomach. Talking with the baby was a recent development after reading about it in one of his many baby books.

Above all, the baby was the closest link he had to Junior.

As quickly as his body would allow him (which wasn't at all), he headed over to the end table and glanced at his phone screen. JULES HESSEwas stamped across the screen.

Still optimistic, he answered.

"Hello?" he asked in the most polite tone he could muster.

"Junior's not with me. I'm just being honest with you so I don't keep your hopes up and ruin your day," Jules responded calmly.

"Make this quick because I'm about to piss like a racehorse," Jake rushed.

"Tell me about it!" she enthused. "Ever since I entered this last trimester it's like every time I get off the toilet I feel another urge to go pee! It's unbearably—"

"Jules," he retorted, resting a hand on top of his belly.

"Ok. I'm just calling to tell you that I'm heading over to your place, so find an appropriate article of clothing that will cover up that bump—if that's even possible at this point—and be ready to leave in five minutes," she said enthusiastically.

Jake groaned. "Why?"

"Because I was in the neighborhood!" she gushed over the phone.

"Lying is bad for you. And the baby," he teased.

"Fine. I wanted to check on you to see how you're doing, is that such a crime?" Jules whined. "Besides, I've been craving a mean burger from In-And-Out and none of my friends eat carbs. Come with, my dearest pregnancy partner!"

Jake sighed. The thought of leaving his private and secluded townhome sounded like a nightmare. He was just so—were there words to describe it?—_colossal _that moving around was such a hassle.

But there was eating involved. He could always eat.

"Alright, but call me when you get here. And if I don't answer the first time just call me again because I might not be near my phone and—"

"You waddle at a drunk snail's pace, I get it. See you then!" Jules said, and hung up the phone.

Jake supported the underside of his belly with one of his hands as he neared the bathroom. He couldn't help but smile. Perhaps the only benefit of revealing his condition to Junior was receiving an outpouring of support from her family (except Junior, of course), with Jules instantly transforming into one of his closest friends and supporters. It was reassuring to confide in another pregnant companion and made his isolating condition a bit more bearable.

Soon after, Jake received the call from Jules (he answered on her third attempt), and left his house.

"Well look at you!" she squealed, as Jake eased his heavy frame into her BMW. Jules reached over to massage his belly. "Jake, I think it's time to contact NASA and declare Pluto a planet again since it has _officially_ reentered our solar system!"

"Why, thank you, Jules. Are those elastic-band _maternity jeans_ I see you're wearing? How _matronly_ of you!" he dished back as he struggled to put on his seatbelt.

"That was a recent purchase," she snapped as she turned out of the driveway. "It's good to see you."

"You, too," he replied thoughtfully and smiled.

The nearest In-And-Out was only a few minutes away, but the short car ride was filled with conversation and playful banter.

Thankfully, the fast food joint wasn't terribly crowded, so Jules and Jake were able to find parking fairly quickly and didn't have to wait long to place their orders.

"Expectant mothers first," Jake joked as he ushered her to the cashier.

Jules shot him a look as she walked forward. "Hello, yes I'd like to order two burgers animal style, two orders of fries, also animal style, a grilled cheese, a side of pickles, and a double-malt double chocolate chip milkshake please."

Jake approached her and murmured in her ear. "You didn't have to order for me."

"I didn't," she replied, and looked at the cashier. "Did you get all of that? I'm also paying for this stud's meal. Go ahead Jake."

Jake nodded his head, impressed. The cashier, a high school aged boy with terrible acne, stopped punching buttons and was now staring with a look of astonishment and terror at Jake's protruding belly, which was pressed against the register. Jake cleared his throat and the cashier quickly refocused, his cheeks reddening.

"I'll have what she's having," he replied. He snatched the plastic table number and waited for Jules to pay.

"Booth or table?" she asked, then studied his overly distended stomach. "Table."

"So how are you holding up?" Jake asked as soon as they were both situated and their food arrived.

"Same old. I'm going on maternity leave in three weeks. Connor and I are rushing to get everything ready for the baby. I'm just tired all of the time, you know? I don't feel like myself since I'm larger than a house," Jules complained.

"Jules, I was your size when I was five months pregnant. Don't even _talk _to me about feeling gigantic," Jake responded, and slowly massaged his plump belly. Even though their due dates were only weeks apart, Jules' belly cowered in comparison to the globe that Jake was lugging around.

"True, but my baby's still gonna beat your baby's ass on the playground," she joked, and together they laughed. "How about you?"

"Hanging in there," Jake said lightly, then exhaled. "I feel very lost."

"I know," Jules whispered, and reached over to grab his hand. "I try talking to Junior, too. She just needs more time."

"But we don't have much time left!" Jake replied angrily. "Jules, I call her every day and leave voicemails, write her letters, send ultrasound pictures of the baby to her. And I receive _nothing_."

"I know my sister. She can be more stubborn than me sometimes, but I know that she will come around. Maybe if you stop by the lab to visit her—" she began, but he cut her off.

"And have her run away from me? Like I'm some, I don't know, monster? Maybe I am a monster," Jake said bitterly, and picked up a fry, suddenly losing his appetite. "Sometimes I hate myself for bringing this situation upon us."

"I know what you mean, well, sort of," Jules consoled. "All of my friends are traveling the world, partying it up, living carefree lives, and I'll be stuck at home with a baby in a month or so. They look at me with fear, Jake, like I'm a ticking time bomb or worse, a physical representation of what it means to _settle_. Maybe I'm not ready for this."

"At least you have Connor to help you," Jake posed.

"Yes, but whom I really need is Junior," Jules said in a soft voice, and she became misty-eyed. "This is my first major life event that I have to do without her. Everything, from graduations to breakups to arguments with the parents, Junior has helped me with. It's like she anticipated when my hardships would happen, and she was already there to brace me for the fall. She's my guardian angel, Jake. She's made my life easier to live because of her sacrificial love. But this pregnancy thing is uncharted territory. Now, I'm navigating through this alone and I'm terrified. I didn't realize how much I relied on my big sister until now."

Jake grabbed a napkin and offered it to her.

"Looks like you could use one yourself" she said. Jake didn't realize that tears were streaming down his face, too.

"I need her so much," he whispered.

"That makes two of us," Jules returned, and squeezed his hand, empathizing with him.

They sat like that for a few moments until Jake quickly retracted his hand and placed it on his belly. "Looks like baby's on the move again," he moaned, and felt the tiny life inside of him roll around.

Jules gazed at him. "Do you have any names yet?"

Jake thought for a minute as the movements continued. This time, the baby delivered a swift kick in his ribs, which startled him. "Jordan," he stated as if it were a novel idea.

"Jordan?" she asked. "Are you having a boy or girl?"

"I don't know, but I think it fits well for either gender. It also goes along with the "J" trend, you know, Junior, Jake, Jordan. It's not too bizarre and it's strong, just like this baby's constant kicking," Jake laughed, and took a bite from his burger. "You?"

"Oh, Connor and I have tossed a few names around for our boy. Mostly family names. Prescott, Grayden, Sinclair, Teague. Our favorite is Dursley," Jules replied.

"If you name your son Dursley, then Jordan is definitely going to whoop _his _ass on the playground," Jake snickered. Jules couldn't help but laugh, too.

When everything on their table was picked clean, they gathered their belongings to leave. Jake couldn't help but notice that an incredibly attractive brunette a few tables over was flirtatiously making eye contact with him throughout his meal. The old Jake was used to women oogling at him in public, but now he couldn't care less about the attention.

"I think that chick is checking you out," Jules observed as she smoothed over small bump.

"Not for long," Jake grunted, and sluggishly got up from the chair, revealing his entire body. The women's eyes traveled down to his giant stomach and made a disgusted look and nervously returned to her food.

"You'll get your 8-pack back in no time, my friend. Don't sweat it," Jules encouraged. "Quick bathroom run then head home?"

"Obviously," he affirmed, his mind lost in the memory of his formerly sultry body.

Together, the heavily pregnant friends headed to the back of the restaurant, indescribably thankful for each other's companionship.


	20. Baby Shower

"Alright, everyone! Please grab a roll of toilet paper in preparation for our next game!"

At this point, Junior was exhausted from pretending to be the chipper and good-humored host at Jules' baby shower.

She promised to organize the event some weeks ago, but that was before Jake revealed his pregnancy to Junior and her entire world spiraled out of control.

She hadn't seen him in almost four weeks, strategically avoiding any location she might run into him. She didn't have to worry about seeing Jake at the lab, since he practically never showed up any more. Junior assumed it was a safety precaution since it was so late in his pregnancy. She skipped out on their shared favorite restaurants and never accepted any invite Jules extended to her when she was going to spend time with him. However, there was almost an unspoken treaty when it came to Sunday family dinners: if the Hesse family was hosting the meal, then Jake would not be in attendance. Conversely, Junior would certainly not pay the Arbogast family a visit when the sacred gatherings were held at their residence.

While she hadn't seen him in almost a month, she certainly heard from him. Frequently. First it started with the nightly phone calls—presumably around his bedtime—just before 9 PM. She didn't have the strength to pick up the phone, let alone listen to his 2-minute long voicemails, but she didn't have the strength to delete them, either.

Then, Jake started to write letters. Long, descriptive letters that began to pile up on her kitchen counter. On a whim one evening (after a few glasses of wine) she decided to open one up. It began:

"_To the love of my life, I wish I could see you. More importantly, I wish you could see me and laugh at how huge I've gotten. It's crazy to the point of hilarious. As I carry our child inside of me I can't help but envision the beautiful and gratifying life we could share together. If only—"_

Junior couldn't finish that one.

Now, Jake managed to infiltrate into her life through her family members, who served as messengers between the two.

"Jake says hello, and that he loves you," Jules would tell Junior quietly when they went on errands together.

"The baby is strong, healthy, and doing just fine. Jake's doing well, too. He asked about you," her father would say after each doctor's visit, since he now regularly accompanied Dr. Arbogast for Jake's appointments.

At this point, Junior had accepted what happened, but that didn't mean she forgave him. The attempts that Jake made to contact her also confirmed that he 1) felt indubitably remorseful about the situation and 2) desperately wanted her to raise the baby with him.

That also didn't mean that she was ready for the events that were going to unfold in a matter of weeks. There were moments when Junior would run errands and casually slip by a baby store. She would walk in, look at the tiny socks that were meant to be worn by tiny baby feet and promptly leave the store, hyperventilating. She would sometimes take a sneak peek at Jules' baby books and open up to a random chapter, but those were only gateways to anxiety attacks.

Clearly, she had a lot on her mind.

Still, she managed to reserve a space at Connor's ritzy country club, invite two dozen of Jules' sorority sisters and friends from work to the baby shower, and plan a few tolerable games to play during the event.

"Ladies, for this game we are going to estimate how round Jules' baby bump is!" Junior painfully forced a smile on her face. "Please unroll how ever much toilet paper you think you will need to completely wrap around her stomach. Whoever has the most exact measurement wins!"

Besides Jules and Junior's mother, the women at the event were all in their early twenties and nowhere close to even thinking about having a baby. Junior rarely conversed with Jules' friends growing up, and this baby shower reminded her why.

In high school, they were mean girls. Jules' friends would muster the tiniest amount of politeness to Junior whenever they came over after cheerleading practice, only to sneer and make fun of her lab goggles she would accidentally wear on the top of her head in between classes. Now, as twentysomethings, these women were either milking daddy's money to pursue superficial entrepreneurial ventures or living a lush, metropolitan lifestyle. All of them were meticulously groomed and obnoxiously showing off their wealth through their expensive wardrobes. The gluttony in the room made Junior feel nauseous.

"I still can't believe you're having a _baby_," Mercedes, one of her friends, cooed.

Jules, who was sitting at the head of the gaggle of women on a comfortable couch with her modest belly stretched out, smiled contently.

"I would never, ever get pregnant," Zara, her sorority sister expressed.

"What makes you say that?" Junior interjected.

"I would hate to ruin my perfect body," Zara enthused, and pursed her lips. "All of my friends with babies say they _never _get back to pre-baby shape."

"Are you ready to never, ever be able to sleep in again?" Vivienne, her friend from work asked.

"And you'll have to wear an adult diaper for like, a month after that baby comes out of you. So much blood," her high school BFF Penelope added.

Diana noticed her daughter's discomfort listening to her ignorant friends and stepped in. "Who's ready to start with the game?"

Just then, Jules' expression changed from uneasy to elated.

"Finally!" she exclaimed as she eyed the door. "Jake's here!"

Instantly, Junior's foul mood turned ten shades darker and her stomach did a flip turn. Slowly, her eyes followed to the doorway and landed straight into his mesmerizing blue eyes. The connection caused every ounce of anger, frustration, lust, and passion that she had built up for the past month to burst out like nuclear fission.

Her first instinct was to quickly envelop him in a tight embrace, and feel the life that was growing inside of him, but she quickly forced that emotion out of her system.

Her second instinct was to leave the room. She felt better about this option.

Jules, who saw her sister getting up, yanked her wrist.

"He's here because I invited him, _not_ for you. He's the only person who has helped me get through this pregnancy, because as you can tell, not everyone is so understanding," Jules said sternly, but masked her frustration with a smile. "Be civil, sister. Please don't ruin this afternoon."

"I thought you said Jake was hot," one of the partygoers mused.

"He was until he got fat," another one responded.

Junior saw Jake from the corner of her eye. Her mother had retreated to the back of the room and was giving him a hug. When they pulled apart from each other, Junior was able to see his entire body.

_He wasn't lying when he said he was huge_, Junior thought to herself as she sized up his belly. It amazed her how much he grew in a little over a month, considering he looked full term last time she saw him. The beach ball that he hid under his shirt just weeks ago transformed into a medium-sized exercise ball. The guy had _girth_.

"I just need some fresh air," Junior said, trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes. She straightened her slim blue dress and proceeded to march out of the room.

She couldn't help but glance at Jake as she neared the door. On his face was a look of shame and disappointment, which only added to her own melancholy state.

The sunlight nearly blinded her as she walked out on lush lawn of the estate. A handful of men were mowing the expansive property, which thankfully overpowered her jagged breathing. She put her hands on her knees and attempted to gather herself.

She wasn't ready to see him, and the sight of him so heavily pregnant frightened her.

Junior's concentration on her breathing shattered when she heard a voice call after her.

"Junior!" the voice sounded breathless. That voice was permanently etched into her heart.

Still bent over, Junior looked over to see Jake toddle down the front steps to where she was on the grass. One of his hands was gripping the handrail while the other was clutching his belly, which was almost bursting out of his button-up shirt.

"Junior, I'm sorry, I never should have come," he cried out hoarsely as he slowly approached her, breathing hard.

"Will you stop apologizing?" Junior snapped, and wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm the one who should be saying sorry."

Jake shook his head. "I don't need an apology from you. We're past that," he asserted.

Junior couldn't even look at him, since staring at his eyes caused her heart to hurt almost as much as looking at his bump. She opened her mouth but words couldn't come out.

"I need you to tell me that you'll be there for the baby, Junior," he whispered.

"But what if I'm not ready to be a mother!" she screamed.

"And you think I'm ready to be a father? Junior, do you even know me? Last year I was chasing girls in bars, living life like a selfish asshole. Last year I wouldn't even look at you. Pregnancy has changed me, for sure, but that doesn't mean that I'm not scared, Junior, because I am. All I ask is that we can be scared, together," Jake pleaded, slowly walking even closer to her.

"I need more time to process this," she said weakly.

"Look, I don't know how much time you have left to 'process this' before the baby gets here. I'm due in four weeks Junior!" he almost shouted at her. "I don't sleep anymore at night. Mostly it's because this little one won't stop kicking me and doing somersaults in there, but I can't rest knowing that our baby won't have _two_ parents willing to make it work. I hope some of that reached you."

As Jake turned around to get in his car, another voice shrilled into the air.

"What the hellis going on between you two? Can't you both just get along for _my _baby shower? Jeeze!" Jules shrieked as she marched up to the pair.

"Jules, I made the mistake of showing up. I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer," Jake said with frustration. Junior watched as he hugged her—it was quite comical seeing how impossible it was for them to form a hug due to their round bellies—and straightened his posture. "I got you the present you asked for. I'll bring it to your house tomorrow."

"No way! You got me the Mommy &amp; Me Infant Yoga Set?" she exclaimed.

"Just like you requested," he announced proudly.

"Your daddy is actually the best! You'll learn soon enough!" she squealed as she kissed his belly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you a baby shower."

"Baby showers are for women," Jake smirked.

"So is pregnancy," Jules shot back. Together, they both laughed. Watching the interaction between the two of them made Junior feel so misplaced and completely taken aback at the genuineness of their friendship.

All she could think was: _How much have I missed?_

"Take care," he said, and turned to Junior. "I still love you tremendously, and nothing will ever change that."

Junior shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. She felt safe to open them when she heard his car drive away.

"Why can't you see that you both are meant to be together? That maybe—just maybe—Jake's pregnancy may be the best thing that's happened to both of you?" Jules asked angrily. She stormed up the steps back to the party, leaving Junior alone to think.

Hours after the party ended (the guests deemed it a tremendous success) and Jules left in her car packed with the glitziest baby gear one could imagine, it was Junior and her mother who were left to clean the remnants of the affair.

"Junior, did you hear me?" Diana worriedly asked her daughter.

"I'm sorry?" Junior replied abruptly, almost dropping the dozen or so plastic baby decals that served as decorations on blue-frosted cupcakes that she was picking up.

"I've said your name at least ten times. Dear, are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be," Junior muttered as she began to stack dirty plates.

Her mother delicately placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, halting Junior's rushed movements, and raised an eyebrow. "You had a pretty powerful reaction to his attendance," she noted and pursed her lips.

"He isn't exactly a sight for sore eyes at this point," Junior joked, hoping that it would lift her dismal mood, but it didn't.

"Well, Jake's belly makes your father look like he simply had a large meal when he was carrying you," her mother affirmed lightly, then took her daughter's hand in hers. "I know how you're feeling, Junior."

"Mom," Junior whispered, feeling a sob travel up her throat. "When did you forgive him?"

"Forgive him?" her mother's crystal blue eyes narrowed as she searched her daughter's face. "Darling, what transgression did your father commit when he gave me you?"

Junior's heart sunk as she felt the pang of her mother's comment. Despite her uncanny relationship with her father, Junior was the splitting image of her mother: capricious and expressive dark brows, a slim, attractive nose, possessing an air of wisdom that was easily traceable in their deep eyes.

"Jake stole from me, Mom. He lied to me. He—" Junior began, her voice cracking.

"He's starting a family with you," her mother finished for her.

"Mom—" Junior protested, but her mother held up a hand.

"I resented your father for quite some time after he revealed his condition. Believe me, I was angry, selfishly turned him away, and wanted nothing to do with him. Despite what he did, I couldn't ignore three undeniable truths that surrounded our predicament: one, that your father loved me; and two, that deep down inside, I loved him," Diana said and squeezed her daughter's hand.

Junior's eyes brimmed with tears as she continued to digest her mother's confession. "What was the third truth, Mom?"

"Well," her mother smiled weakly. "The last time I saw your father before he gave birth to you, I was amazed at how protective and tenderhearted he felt about you, even before you came into existence. I knew that underneath his skin, your father was carrying the greatest gift that would irrevocably intertwine our lives together, though for months I tried to convince myself that it was too late to catch up and repair the relationship with your father, and above all, create a foundation of a loving and supportive family. Your father never gave up on me, so who was I to give up on him and this dream we shared together? I realized then that I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with him, loving you."

Junior, speechless, stared at her mother with a profound feeling of adoration and respect.

"Now you, my love, must decide if those three truths apply to you and Jake. But Junior, it's never too late."

With that, the two embraced each other.

When Junior came back that night, she cautiously opened her phone, and proceeded to listen to every single voicemail from the past month.

There was catching up to do.


End file.

Junior, Family, Romance