Idon’twant to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about the loneliness, about how every time I see other couples preparing for their baby together, I feel this sharp twist of regret.
Because no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, a part of mewantsMikhail here.
And that part of me isdangerous.
“Well,” Dr. Reynolds says, thankfully moving on, “let’s check on your little one.”
I nod, exhaling as she wheels over the ultrasound machine.
The gel is cold against my skin, making me shiver slightly. Then, a moment later?—
A soft, rhythmicwhoosh-whoosh-whooshfills the room.
My heart clenches. Every single time, it’s the same. The sound of my baby’s heartbeat makes everything real all over again.
Dr. Reynolds smiles. “Strong heartbeat. Everything’s looking great.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
For a few moments, I let myself forget everything else. I just stare at the screen, watching the tiny form of my baby move inside me, stretching, shifting, growing.
My child.
Mikhail’s child.
Dr. Reynolds’ expression shifts. Her eyes narrow slightly as she moves the ultrasound wand, adjusting the angle, the pressure.
I frown. “Something wrong?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she bites the inside of her cheek, shifting the screen slightly.
“Hmm,” she murmurs.
That sound—the noncommittal, vaguely concerned hmm—makes my pulse spike.
“What?” My voice tightens as my fingers dig into the cushioned exam table beneath me.
Dr. Reynolds doesn’t look at me right away. She moves the wand again, scanning the screen like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, and then finally she sets it aside.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, her tone too neutral.
My stomach knots.
She leaves the room before I can press further, slipping out the door with the kind of professional efficiency that should be comforting.
It’s not.
My mind races, my heart hammering wildly as I stare at the ultrasound screen still glowing beside me. Everything looked fine. The heartbeat was strong. So what the hell is happening?
I don’t have to wait long.
Dr. Reynolds returns a minute later, this time with a nurse in tow.
I sit up straighter. “Doctor?”
She gives me a reassuring smile, but there’s something careful about it. Like she’s trying not to startle me.
“Leah, I don’t want you to panic,” she says, glancing at the screen again. “Everything looks good.”