“Not yet,” she said. “But I’m not going to get too excited. It still might.”

Ezra pulled Emily to him and kissed her in the middle of the sidewalk, people swirling around them. His hands wrapped around her waist and held her body against his. She could feel the hardness of his muscles against the softness of her breasts. She loved how her body yielded to his.

“Get a room!” a cabbie shouted out the window of his taxi as he sped by, but they didn’t care. They barely even noticed.

7

Four days later, Emily and Ezra both had the day off.

“Anything?” Ezra asked, as Emily got back into bed after an early-morning trip to the bathroom.

She shook her head and smiled.

“Can we get excited yet?” he asked.

She slid closer to him, not wanting to get her hopes up, but also wanting to know, wanting it to be true.

“I hope our baby has your hazel eyes,” he said, looking into hers. “And your pouty lips.” He kissed hers.

She kissed him back and said, “Nuh-uh, I hope our baby looks just like you.”

She loved his Roman nose, his prominent cheekbones, his deep black eyelashes.

Ezra slid his hands under the T-shirt Emily had worn to bed, running his fingers in circles around the warm skin of her breasts. They felt heavier to her than usual. Then her focus was back on her husband, whose hand was now sliding down her stomach.

“Totally recreational,” he whispered.

Emily laughed. They tried not to make sex seem like a chore, but sometimes, when Ezra came home from an overnight call and woke her up because she’d texted him that she was ovulating, it seemed more an item on their to-do list than the sweet, romantic joining together it had been before sex was about fertility and the best position to ejaculate in so gravity could help them conceive.

Emily reached for him, not thinking of any of that. Just thinking about how much she loved her husband. How beautiful she found his body. How complete she felt when he was inside her.

“I love you,” he whispered, as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

“I love you,” she answered, rocking into him, matching his rhythm.

Then the pitch of his breathing changed, and he thrust harder.

Her breathing changed, too.

His body stilled as he let out an “Oh” that was as much breath as it was sound.

Emily kept rocking against him until she came, too.

And then they both lay back on their pillows, Emily not worrying about tilting her pelvis up, elevating herself on a pillow, something her sister said absolutely helped with conception.

“Good thing the baby can’t see yet,” she said.

He laughed. “So you think it’s real?”

“I’m cautiously optimistic,” she told him, then took a breath. “We can take a test today.”