Page 96 of Forever With You

Mom answered on the third ring. “Hey honey.”

“Hi.” My fingers curled around the phone. “Are you busy?”

“Of course not,” she replied with a little laugh. “Aren’t you at work?”

I started pacing. “No. I have today and Friday off, because I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh no.” There was a pause and I could hear Loki barking in the background. Mom shushed the dog. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

Is it the baby?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I drew in a shallow breath. “Um, I ...” The words were unbelievably hard to say. “I had a really weird pain last night in my stomach, but it went away. I thought it was something I ate, so I went to bed.”

“Oh,” Mom whispered into the phone, and I thought ... I thought she already knew. “Oh, honey.”

I pressed my hand on my stomach, just below the navel. “I went back to sleep. I probably shouldn’t have done that. I just didn’t think that something was wrong, but I woke up a ­couple of hours later, and it was ... I was cramping and stuff. I went to the hospital.” I opened my eyes and started pacing again. “The doctor said that the ba—­ That it probably stopped developing. That could’ve happened weeks ago, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Honey,” Mom choked out. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you—­?”

“I’m fine,” I cut in, wrapping one arm over my waist. “I’m actually okay.”

“Honey—­”

“I’m fine. I’m just going to take today and tomorrow off, then use the weekend to relax, but I’m okay. I told work I had the flu. I guess it was a good thing that I hadn’t told them before. I mean, this was probably a blessing in disguise, right?” I was rambling at this point but I couldn’t stop myself. “Something was wrong and this ... these things happen.”

There was a pause, and then Mom said, “I’m going to come up there. I’m going to pack Loki in the carrier and we’re going to come up there and—­”

“That’s not necessary. I’m okay and there’s nothing that anyone can do,” I told her. “I just need to spend the next ­couple of days relaxing.”

“But—­”

“Mom, I’m okay. I promise. You don’t need to come up here. Okay? I’ll see you at Christmas.”

She didn’t reply immediately. “If you change your mind, I’m just a phone call away, okay?”

“Okay,” I murmured.

“How is Nick handling it?” she asked.

My chest squeezed as I forced out the words. “I haven’t told him yet.”

Silence.

“I ... it just happened, and he was at work, so I drove myself to the hospital last night.”

“Stephanie,” she sighed wearily.

My knuckles ached. “I’m going to get off here, okay? I’ll call you later.”

I all but hung up on her, and I felt crappy for rushing off the phone, but I didn’t want to say anything that would propel her to ignore my request for her not to come, and I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, because I knew I was going to have to talk about it again.

Glancing at the clock, I knew I had time to talk to Nick before he went to work. Part of me wanted to chicken out and call him, because seeing him face-­to-­face wasn’t something I was sure I could do.

But this wasn’t the kind of conversation you had on the phone.

I texted him, asking if he could stop by. After a ­couple of texts back and forth—­Nick wondering why I was home, and me making being vague an art form—­he said he was on his way. Sitting in the chair by the small table, I waited as knots built in my stomach. The cramping wasn’t so bad now, but every so often it felt like someone shoved a knife into my midsection. Part of me welcomed that pain, because I could focus on it.

When Nick showed up, not nearly enough time had passed. First look at him told me why. Wearing nylon sweaters and a thermal under his jacket, he’d been at the gym. His hair was adorably messy.

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