Page 102 of Beyond Friendship

“Is that...”

“Yes.” The woman smiles. “That is your baby.”

My eyebrows pull together. “There’s... no heartbeat,” I say, the octave of my voice rising in terror. A few precise movements and taps to the panel later, a rapid whooshing sound fills the air.

“There it is,” the woman says with a smile.

The biggest sigh of relief leaves both our lips. My heart syncs with my child’s and without warning, my bottom lip quivers while a single tear slides down my cheek.

After assuring us everything is all right and advising Amanda to make an appointment with an OBGYN, the doctor leaves.

We stay silent for a moment, but then Amanda takes a deep breath and says, “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You had every right not to tell me.”

Just after I say this, the doctor enters the room with a pleasant smile and queries Amanda about her health. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“No problem. It’s my job.” He grins and hands her a prescription. “Take these meds if you’re still feeling queasy. I’ll have the result of your blood work in two days. This to see if your extreme nausea spill is caused by hyperemesis. But for most women, pregnancy nausea decreases around the second stage of their trimester. I’ll fill out the paperwork needed for your release so you can get a good night’s rest at home.”

“And you’re sure nothing is wrong with her brain?” I ask to be sure.

The doc meets my gaze. “I’m sure.”

We thank the doctor again, and when she’s released, Amanda slides off the bed and we make our way out to the parking lot. Not a word is spoken as we walk to her car and drive away; only silence inhabits the space between us.

When I pull up and park at her place, I take a moment to appreciate the beautiful sight of Amanda sleeping in the passenger seat. I stroke her cheek and whisper her name, but no response. I climb out of the car and grab the key to her place before letting myself into the front door. When I come back outside, I scoop her up and carry her upstairs. After placing her on the bed and taking off her shoes, I spot the vomit stains on her blouse. My eyes travel from the fabric down to her smooth skin as I unbutton it. Stunned by her beauty, my gaze moves to one unmistakable fact: she’s pregnant with our baby. An indescribable unknown emotion swells inside me as I lay my hand over her belly. Leaning down to kiss her temple, I whisper, “You’re my home and my greatest adventure all at once, Brownie.” I get comfortable in the large chair in the corner of her room and watch her sleep until I drift off myself.

31

AMANDA

I startle awake, the images of Brian striding away from me still lingering in my head. Taking deep breaths to try and calm the tumult within me, I wipe away my tears before snatching up my phone from the bedside table. It’s six in the morning. Immediately, memories of the previous night flood back, along with a barrage of questions.Why did he come over last night? And what did he think when he found me retching?

My nose scrunches in revulsion at the recollection. I peer down—only wearing a bra. More inquiries surface in my head.How did I get here?The last thing I remember is Brian driving us back after leaving the hospital.Oh God, he knows I’m pregnant.

Noises emanating from below startle me out of bed, and after shrugging on a robe for coverage, I cautiously investigate. It’s a refreshing change to wake up without rushing to vomit or having the sensation that you ran a marathon while sleeping. Thanks, anti-nausea medicine. I’m still tired as fuck and my breasts are more sensitive, but I take that over being nauseous every day of the week.

Downstairs, my feet freeze to the floor when I see Brian in my kitchen.

I take in his form-fitting jeans and black casual shirt, bringing out his blond hair and azure eyes. The sweet smell of his citrus cologne fills my nose. Thankfully, it doesn’t make me retch. But I can’t ignore the hardening of my nipples or suppress the urge to groan.

Stop it.

“Hey,” he says in a careful tone.

My fists clench at my sides as I take a steadying breath, trying to keep my voice cool. “What are you doing here?” My tone is full of ice, the only way I know how to defend myself against the still raw wound deep inside my chest.

“Making coffee and tea,” he says. “Don’t know which one you prefer... with you being...”

He trails off, but I finish for him, my voice dripping with dread hearing he finds it hard to say the word. “With me being pregnant.”

He nods.

What if he asks me to abort the baby?

I walk past Brian and fill a glass with water before taking a long breath to ready myself for what comes next. When I turn back to him, he is looking at the snapshot of me and Charlotte making odd faces. My niece means so much to me, yet nothing can match the intensity of love I feel forourunborn baby.

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