Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
She blinked and rubbed her face. “I had a bad dream. Sorry I woke you.”
I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure what to say. I took a step back. “Do you need anything?”
“Just keep the lights on. I’ll be fine.”
I nodded, then turned and left the room. I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bourbon bottle I’d left on the table. I took a swish, then grimaced. I only drank when I went out partying, definitely not in the middle of the night. This was as far from a party as it could be. A pity party at best. I pushed the bottle away. Alcohol wouldn’t make anything better.
There was no way I could fall asleep again after this. It was only three in the morning, and I couldn’t leave Sara alone, so I was stuck in this place.
I went to the gym room I’d installed in the former office and hit the treadmill, sprinting at high speed for almost an hour until I was drenched in sweat and feeling marginally better—except for the insistent burn on my back.
I tossed my soaked shirt away and sat on the bench, taking a couple of swigs from my water bottle.
The sound of retching followed by flushing reminded me of my new living situation. I rose from the bench and considered going to see if Sara needed anything, but then her expression from last night crossed my mind, and I sat back down. I was the last person she wanted by her side.
It was strange to enter the kitchen where Maximus sat at the table. He had a cup of coffee in front of him, nothing else.
“Morning,” I said to break up the uncomfortable silence. “Is there breakfast?”
Maximus glanced at the fridge, then rose to his feet. “There are eggs and toast in the fridge. I can’t cook, so I didn’t prepare anything. Plus, I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
I pursed my lips as I approached the fridge. “You don’t eat breakfast?”
He shook his head. “I’m not hungry that early. I eat around lunchtime.”
“Oh, all right. I can grab something on the way to the appointment. I don’t mind.” I didn’t want to prepare eggs just for myself.
“We can leave now if you want.”
I nodded. It was still early, but being in this apartment with Maximus felt strange. I grabbed a chai latte and a yogurt parfait on the way but only finished the former before we reached our destination.
Maximus and I entered the doctor’s office together. I’d been there for checkups three times so far. Mom had accompanied me to every appointment, but today, Maximus, the father of my child, was by my side.
I stretched out on the examination couch with my belly exposed. Maximus hovered beside me, looking uncomfortable. I pointed at the chair beside the couch. He sank down, dwarfing the chair with his tall and muscled frame. My own heart was beating quickly from nerves. I’d felt detached during the last exams, not willing to really accept the pregnancy yet. Maybe today, I’d finally be ready to be excited. I’d always wanted children and imagined how magical being pregnant would be, but due to the circumstances, I hadn’t been able to enjoy the pregnancy at all. It saddened and frustrated me equally.
The doctor put the ultrasound sensor on my belly and quickly found the amniotic sac. She explained what she saw so Maximus understood, but she fell silent when the baby came into view. She pushed the sensor harder into my belly and moved it around, but her expression became tighter by the second. I wasn’t sure what the problem was. Was it too small? I hadn’t lost any weight this last week despite my nausea and the wedding stress.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Maximus glanced between the doctor and me with a frown.
“Give me another moment,” the doctor said quietly as she kept moving the sensor. She rose to her feet. “I’m getting my colleague.”
A few minutes later, the other doctor who had never treated me sat beside me and took the ultrasound sensor. Several tense minutes passed before she exchanged a look with my doctor, who cleared her throat and gave me a compassionate look. “We can’t find a heartbeat.”
I blinked, not sure what they were saying. “Last time, the heart was beating.”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “But it’s not anymore.”
“The baby is dead?” Maximus asked tightly.
I stared at him in horror. “Dead?”
I didn’t understand. None of this made sense. “But how? Why? When?”
“It’s difficult to say. My guess is that the heart stopped about a week ago, judging by the size of the fetus.”
“But why? Why didn’t I feel anything when it died? Shouldn’t I have known?”
How could I not have noticed that the baby—my baby had died?
Because you tried to ignore the pregnancy. Because you weren’t happy about it.