Page 28 of Broken Vows

Before I can respond, there’s a knock and Dr. Larson enters, a cheerful woman with grey-streaked hair.

“Hello! I’m Dr. Larson. “ She shakes both our hands. “Let’s look at this little one, shall we?”

The gel is cold on my stomach. Jeremy moves closer to me as she positions the ultrasound wand.

“There we are,” she says, pointing to the screen. “See that brief flicker? That’s the heartbeat.”

When I see the small little blob on the screen, I couldn’t help but smile. Jeremy’s hand finds mine without either of us meaning to.

“Strong heartbeat. Everything looks perfect.”

I’m crying, I realize distantly. His hand tightens around mine.

Our baby. A piece of us that exists despite everything.

The drive home is different. Something has shifted, though I’m not sure what. Jeremy holds the ultrasound photos like they’re made of glass.

“I can make you copies,” I offer as he pulls into my driveway.

“Yeah?” His smile is soft, genuine. “I’d like that.”

He walks me to the door.

“Thanks again,” he says, “for letting me be there.”

“Of course. It’s your baby too.”

He nods, looking like he wants to say more. Instead, he hands me the crackers from earlier.

“Here, snack on them when you need to.” He strolls back to his truck and I watch him disappear around the corner, then goinside and place the ultrasound photo on my fridge. The black and white blob with its flickering heartbeat.

My phone buzzes with a text from Jeremy:

Jeremy

Let me know about the next appointment?

Me

I will.

Chapter Eighteen

The ultrasound photohas been on my fridge for a week now, held up by the magnet from our honeymoon in Florida. Every morning, I stare at it while my ginger tea steeps. Sometimes I catch myself touching it, tracing the tiny outline of our baby with my finger.

Jeremy’s been texting more since the appointment. Little things, like asking if I’m eating enough or sending links to pregnancy websites. This morning it was a photo of a bag of oranges:

Jeremy

Read this helps with morning sickness. Want me to drop some by?

It’s strange how normal it feels, this new version of us. Not quite together, not quite apart. Just… connected. Always connected now.

I try Lilly’s number again while I wait for my tea to cool. Straight to voicemail, like every other time this week.

“Hey, Lil. I miss you. I went to my first doctor’s appointment yesterday and… well, I wish you’d been there. Or at least answering your phone. Please call me back?”

My voice cracks at the end. Two weeks of silence. Not like her at all. I’ve driven by her house twice, but her car’s never there. Even stopped by the boutique where she works, only to be told she’s taken some personal time.

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