Chapter 70

His

s drilled into mine, a deep concern veiling them, “Can’t it be for any other reason?”

“Like what?” I couldn’t deny I was fishing for something more.

His lips barely moved as he spoke, “I just want you to be well.”

“…Sounds like something you’d say at a family Thanksgiving dinner.”

A thought flickered through my mind, and before I knew it, a smile crept up, “Save it for Timothy’s birthday bash next month.”

Wishing me health. Wishing himself a lifetime of happiness with Margaret?

When the nurse came to draw my blood, I instinctively pulled back as she disinfected my arm, my body tensing up.

I was scared. I’d always been scared.

As a kid, it was always Dad who held me, with Mom gripping my other hand, coaxing me through every needle and every blood draw.

And there were always rewards.

But over these past years, my health had been decent. A common cold here, some over-the-counter meds there – hardly ever needing blood drawn.

So, my fear never really faded. But fear or not, was grown up now, without my parents around.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Suddenly, Bryant’s warm hand enveloped mine his thumb gently caressing the back of my hand as he soothingly whispering, “I’m here with you.”

“You being

here doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“Then squeeze my hand if it hurts. I’ll bear the pain with you.” His voice was velvety smooth.

I looked down to see the man who always seemed to tower over me, now half-kneeling by my side, filling my heart and yet, stirring a pang of sadness. I murmured, “But you can’t stay with me forever.”

My voice was too low, he didn’t catch it. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head.

Some thoughts are better kept inside than voiced.

After the blood draw, I was off to the ultrasound room the head doctor had arranged.

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Chapter 70

Bryant waited outside.

As the doctor applied the gel, then handed me tissue to wipe it off after he was done, my heart raced.

I knew Bryant would replace out about the pregnancy sooner or later, but I didn’t expect it this

soon.

Maybe the head doctor had told her who I was as the examining doctor smiled at me, “Mrs. Ferguson, you’re pregnant, aren’t you aware?”

“I… know.”

I pressed my lips together, “How’s the baby developing?”

“The baby’s doing great, nine weeks now. Look, you can already see tiny hands and feet.”

“Really…”

Tears rolled down uncontrollably as I stared at the screen showing the little life inside me. Happy, thrilled, yet so heartbroken.

“Mrs. Ferguson, are you alright? This is great news, why the tears?”

“Because,” I cleaned my tears, replying. “I’m about to get a divorce. I can’t give it a complete family.”

With a sliver of hope, I pleaded, “Doctor, can you not mention the pregnancy on the report?”

“You don’t want Mr. Ferguson to know? Mrs. Ferguson, he’d be thrilled to know about the baby. Maybe, it could change his mind? You’re young, and you might not realize how important a complete family is for a child. In your situation, instead of divorcing, why not try to save your marriage?”

The doctor, nearing fifty, must have been one of the hospital’s top consultants, speaking with such gravity and concern.

I forced a bitter smile, saying, “Even if his heart isn’t with me?”

“Ah, once you become a mother, you can’t just think about yourself. Think about it, what child doesn’t yearn for a father? They’d be so vulnerable to bullying at school.”

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Seeing my silence, she sighed, “I’m sorry, I can’t help you there. I have to document everything accurately in the reports.”

As I got off the examination table, with the ultrasound report now in my hands, every step towards the door felt heavier than the last.

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