Page 33 of Choosing Hope
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
“Sophie got pregnant.”
The doctor exhaled.
“Who was the father?”
My heart stopped in my chest. It had never occurred to me that I might not be the father.
“Me,” I choked out the word defensively as she peered at me.
“So, you’re a daddy. Congratulations.”
She replied before scribbling a few more notes on her pad.
The doctor had a tone in her voice I didn’t like. The pinched nature grated on my nerves, prodding at it as if she were trying to convey some vital piece of information that I couldn’t determine.
“In what ways did Sophie’s pregnancy—and later, becoming a father—affect the dynamic between the three of you?”
I laughed humorlessly.
“Before I answer that, you need to understand. I adore my daughter and my wife. My wife is the best mother I’ve ever seen.”
The doctor nodded, noting her thoughts.
“But if someone had thrown in a hand grenade, it would have created less devastation.”
I slump back in my uncomfortable chair, remembering the night Sophie announced her pregnancy.
The night that shattered my perfect world, rupturing my relationship with Carlo and shaking up every fragment of shame and self-loathing. Creating the monster I’ve become today.
Every year since Chess’ death, Carlo and I escaped for a week to the island, in the Bay of Naples, where he’d bought a beach house in memory of his girl. He claimed that being there made him feel closer to her—and without me, he feared he’d never leave.
That weekend was unforgettable. Carlo had even found an architect to design and oversee the construction of a new home right on the beach. We spent hours poring over ideas and reminiscing about a past that seemed both distant and achingly familiar.
By the time I returned home, I was buzzing to see Sophie. The trip had stirred something in me. Until then, we’d still been living in Carlo’s apartment, and those conversations made me start to picture a place of our own—something just for us.
I’d barely put my bag down before she announced her news.
She looked so nervous. Sophie has a habit of chewing on her bottom lip when she’s uncertain or thinking hard. That day she chewed it so hard I was surprised not to see blood.
“You’re pregnant?” I questioned her, a smile ripping across my face.
Her eyes were full of confusion and concern, but I’d never heard better news. We’d discussed starting a family. We were both aware we wanted children one day, though neither of us thought about it happening so soon.
I was a couple of months away from my twenty-seventh birthday. For parents, we weren’t young, but we’d been so busy building our careers and having fun, we hadn’t factored in children just yet.
I cradled her on my lap. She appeared small and vulnerable; I suspected she was struggling to come to terms with the news. Both of our lives were about to take a massive turn, but it was Sophie who would be most affected.
“How are you? You look a little pale. Should you be in bed?” I fussed over her.
“No, I’m fine. It’s just a little morning sickness.”
She buried her face in my neck as she often did. I found the gesture just as soothing as I suspect she did.
“When is our baby due?” I asked excitedly.
My mind raced with plans for the future. Having been considering a house move all the way back from Carlo’s place, I decided it was a must now. A child should have a garden. Somewhere he or she could play.
