Page 158 of The Wrong Heart

Licking my chafed lips, I feel my bottom lip start to tremble. “Parker… is he okay?”

She nods quickly. “He’s going to be fine. I’ll monitor him for any long-term side effects and watch out for signs of lung infection, but he’s acting like his usual stubborn self.” Bree’s smile blooms through watery eyes. “He hasn’t stopped asking about you. He’s so worried.”

My heartrate quickens. “Can I see him?”

I need him. I need him in my arms, flesh to flesh, beating heart to beating heart.

“Soon,” she tells me. “I’m about to go sign off on his discharge papers, and then I’ll get you guys out of here. But first…” Bree pulls her lips between her teeth, the pressure of her touch increasing on my arm. She falters, inhaling a long, shaky breath. “I need to go over some results with you. We ran a blood test when you were brought in.”

I freeze, my muscles locking. Nerves race through me, triggering more nausea.

Oh, God… am I dying?

My mind is inundated with worst case scenarios: brain tumors, cancer, cancerous brain tumors.

Bile climbs up my throat.

Bree takes a seat on my bedside, her eyes glinting with tears as she squeezes me, her unsaid words coiling around me like a serpent.

No, please.

I’m not ready!

I can almost envision a reverend pushing through the curtain, a barrage of mourning and last rites.

“You’re pregnant, Melody.”

No! A brain tumor!

Wait.

Her words penetrate my fog of fear, and I slowly begin to register what she actually said. Goosebumps scatter along my arms as my heart thunders with stunned, stupefied beats. A sharp breath hitches in the back of my throat. My mind spins. My limbs start to quiver.

I’m pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

Our respective tears fall at the same time, and Bree lets out a choked-up, weepy laugh. “Congratulations.”

I lift a hand to cup my mouth. A sob, riddled with equal parts joy and disbelief, is muffled by my palm, and I close my eyes to process this unexpected bomb. “How… how far along am I?”

Bree swipes two fingers under her eye, streaking the tears away. “Judging by your HCG levels, you’re likely six to eight weeks along. We’ll need to schedule an ultrasound to be sure.”

Emotions torpedo through me, stealing the air from my lungs.

The morning after pill must have failed.

I’ve been pregnant this whole time.

Holding back an incredulous cry, I wonder aloud, “Does Parker know?”

She shakes her head, her dark curls dancing in her topknot, and then she slides a loving hand up and down my arm. “That’s for you to tell him, Melody. Although, I’d give anything to see his face when you give him the news.” Bree reels in her own elated emotions, sighing deeply. “God, my little brother is going to be a father…”

Her own love for Parker radiates off of her, heady and potent. She drifts away for a moment, her eyes reflecting years of memories—pain, joy, kinship. I see her relief, her pride, and I wonder what hardships they went through together. I want to hear their stories, relive their friendship and bond. I’m yearning to know everything.

A swell of forgiveness and understanding fills me as I clasp the back of her hand with my palm. Bree is a good person. Her aura is pure and kind, and her heart bleeds with empathy. She would do anything for her brother.

And I realize then… if she craved to see Parker’s smile just as much as I did, I can’t really blame her for what she did.

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