Sometimes, everything hits you all at once.
You lose a relationship, change jobs, old friends go, and new friends come.

It's up one day and down the next.
You have it all together on Monday, and by Thursday, you don't have a clue.

Life is one big wave, and all we can do is flow, adapt and transform with it all.

- Sylvester McNutt -

Something Different

The next day, I told Rosalie and my mom about Carlisle's proposal. Rosalie was very surprised at first, but once she got over that, she was ecstatic. If she had been harboring any secret resentment towards Carlisle for these past couple of weeks, it disappeared now completely. I'd suppose she was finally willing to believe he was taking me more than seriously, and he wasn't going to hurt me. I tried to contain her eagerness when she began to dance around my apartment and talked about having a double wedding with her and Emmett.

"Slow down, please," I told her with a chuckle. "Carlisle and I are in no hurry to get married yet. And besides, you wouldn't want to share your big day with another bride, would you?"

"Well, if you're the other bride, I have absolutely no problem with it."

Her words flattered me – Rosalie had been dreaming about her wedding day since she was five, after all. The fact that she even suggested this told me how genuinely happy she was for me.

I smiled. "But still, in the name of fairness, since you and Emmett got engaged before me and Carlisle, I think you should be the ones to tie the knot first. You two can show us the way, if you will, and we can observe and learn from your mistakes to avoid the biggest pitfalls of marriage."

She chuckled. "Okay. Except that...well, maybe Carlisle knows something about those things already, since he's been married before."

I nodded and cocked my head to the side. "You're right. You know, come to think of it, maybe he doesn't even want to have a wedding at all. Who knows? Maybe he wants us to drive to Vegas or something."

Rosalie gave me a searching look. "How would you feel about that?"

I shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. And it's not like we've discussed any of this – what I said was just a random conjecture. We agreed to take it a day at a time, and I think that's good. What matters to me the most is that I can be with him."

She smiled. "Alright. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." Suddenly, she chuckled softly.

"What?" I asked, confused.

She shook her head, hesitating. "Well, did it freak you out at all? When he proposed?"

I gave a soft laugh. "Well, of course, I was shocked. I mean, we just met in August. We've known each other a ridiculously short time. Of course it surprised me, especially considering the way this thing of ours started. But then again, he once told me he's a traditional, old-fashioned man. But yesterday, he said he feels so...sure about this. About us. So…yeah. I guess there are more absurd things than the thought of sharing my life with him."

Rosalie nodded. "Well, I'm happy things turned out well. And I'm glad Carlisle's brother opened his mouth at the right moment and told you about Carlisle's past."

"I owe Edward one for that."

"Sometimes, shameless meddlers like him make the world better. Maybe you should send him a thank-you card."

I laughed. "You know, maybe I should. I sometimes wonder how different things would be if I hadn't happened to run into him at the café that day." I paused, smiling wryly. "I wonder if I could convince him to meddle some more. Or maybe I should hire him to defend me – he's a lawyer, after all."

She raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

I blew out a sigh. "I kind of have to tell Charlie now. About Carlisle. And to be honest, I'm kind of...scared."

Rosalie laughed. "I'm sure it'll be a shock for him to learn that his little girl is engaged."

"To a man who's only a few years younger than he is," I added in a dry tone.

"Right. But he'll get over it."

I wanted to believe her. But still, calling Charlie was something I decided to put off for a while longer, and that night, I called Renée instead. She reacted to my news just like I'd expected; she was just as excited and delighted as Rosalie was. I realized when she'd visited me on my birthday, she must have seen how much I liked Carlisle, and how much the necklace he had given me had affected me.

But she also seemed relieved when I told her we were in no hurry to get married – maybe she was thinking about the decisions she'd made when she'd been my age. Maybe she was thinking about her failed marriage with Charlie. They, too, had gotten married very soon after they'd met. She'd been younger than me, though, and more impulsive. But still, I supposed she didn't want me to go through the same heartache she once had. But she didn't say anything about it – not directly, anyway.

"You're so much more mature than I was when I was your age," she told me. "I know you're not making my mistakes. And when I saw you two months ago, I noticed how you looked at him – and how he looked at you."

I chuckled, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I poured hot water into a mug. "Am I that easy to read?"

"I know you, Bella. And you know yourself better than many fifty-year-olds know themselves. I'm sure you know what's best for you." She paused, staying silent at the other end of the line for a brief moment; something made her hesitate. "But you should keep in mind, given your obvious age difference, that Carlisle might have...well, some expectations. He's obviously ready to settle down, and he might be in a hurry to..." she trailed off, hesitating.

"Look, I know what you're trying to say. You think he probably doesn't want to waste any time and is eager to start a family and so on. But the thing is..." I blew out a breath, wishing she was here in front of me, instead of hundreds of miles away. Conversations like this shouldn't take place over the phone; that was why I had earlier decided that I wouldn't tell her about this until I'd see her, but since she'd brought this up now... "Well, I guess there's no subtle way to say this. Carlisle...he doesn't want to have children."

"Oh. Why not? And are you okay with that?"

"I am. We've discussed this more than once. I understand where he's coming from. Sort of." I paused. "I was supposed to wait until I see you to tell you about this, but...well, Carlisle has been married before. He had a daughter who died in an accident, and he never really got over what happened."

"Oh, my God. That's terrible."

"It is. He doesn't talk about it very much, which is understandable. I found out about it myself only a couple of weeks ago."

Renée was silent for a moment. "You're okay with it, though? I mean, I can only imagine what he's been through, but the truth is, his decision has an effect on your life as well."

"Well, I've never been very passionate about having a big family or anything," I mused. "Children are adorable, of course, and I'm sure parenthood is a very fulfilling experience. But…if I have to choose between Carlisle and a future I may not even want, then of course I choose him. I love him. So much that it scares me." I gave a soft laugh, and suddenly, I found myself blinking back tears. It surprised me, but maybe it shouldn't have; for some reason, I'd been very emotional lately. Maybe it was because of all those things that had happened during the past weeks. So many things in my life had changed.

"Oh, Bella," she chuckled, "I know it's scary, but it's worth it. I promise you."

"I know. But if this is scary, it's nothing compared to how scary it'll be when I have to tell Charlie about Carlisle and me. Actually, I'm going to call him right after you."

"Oh, don't bother. He's not home. He's on vacation, can you believe it?"

"Charlie? Charlie left for a vacation? Willingly?" I asked, incredulous. Charlie was an incurable workaholic. "Did someone blackmail him or something?"

Renée chuckled. "Maybe. I'm thinking a woman might have something to do with it."

"What? Charlie's dating someone?"

"Well, he hasn't said much about it, but a few months ago, he mentioned he was going fishing with someone. When I asked who, he – begrudgingly – told me about this woman who keeps a sporting goods store in Forks. Apparently, she's a widow – the husband died a few years back. She has a son who's about your age."

"Oh. Okay. Wow. So, Charlie is on vacation with this woman?"

"That's right. Her name's Karen, if memory serves. Karen Newton. So, when he gets back, and when you tell him about Carlisle and you, if he overreacts, you can tell him you're not the only one who's been keeping secrets. And then, you can tease him mercilessly about his vacation with this mystery woman. He'll get so embarrassed and self-conscious that he'll forgot you're engaged to a forty-five-year-old man."

"Hmm. I like the sound of that. That's a very good plan."

Renée laughed. "That's what mothers are for – we're good planners." She paused, her voice more serious when she spoke again. "I wouldn't worry about Charlie, Bella. Even if he gets upset, so what? He'll get over it. He has to accept your decisions, because they're your decisions and nobody else's."

Her words brought me comfort and gave me a sense of certainty, but I couldn't deny the fact that I was a little relieved to hear Charlie wasn't home, so I got the chance to delay my news. It wasn't that I was ashamed of my relationship with Carlisle – of course not. In fact, meeting him was pretty much the best thing that had ever happened to me. I reveled in that knowledge. But I wasn't naive – I knew it would take some time for Charlie to see things how I saw them.

In the end, I decided to listen to my mother's advice and not worry about it too much. This matter was out of my hands, after all.

Maybe the universe picked up on my sudden, positive energy. Maybe it decided I was being entirely too calm about things, and my life needed some complications. Or maybe the universe was trying to tell me it wasn't Charlie I should have been worrying about. That there were more pressing matters to consider.

Or maybe things had been going too well lately, as simple as that, and someone out there had decided it needed to change.

One early morning, I woke up to a strange feeling. I felt chilly and worn out, and after tossing and turning for a few minutes, I got up, trying not to wake Carlisle. I pulled on a warm sweater and my pajama shorts, quietly making my way to the kitchen. I wondered idly if I was coming down with something, after all. I'd been feeling something like this a few days ago, but it had passed. Or that was what I'd thought. Perhaps my immune system was just acting up or something.

I decided to make myself some tea with lemon and honey; since I had an early shift at the café, I hoped I'd feel better by the time I had to leave. While I nursed my tea, I turned on the coffee maker as well. Some caffeine would do me some good – I was exhausted. I rubbed my temples, trying to clear my foggy head. I suddenly began to consider if I could be coming down with a migraine again. But something told me that wasn't the reason behind my strange weariness. There was something different, something strange about these symptoms.

I finished my tea and started to tidy up the kitchen – I was supposed to spend the next couple of nights at Carlisle's house, and I didn't want to leave behind a messy apartment. While waiting for the coffee to drip, I wiped the counter and rinsed my mug. I was just about to go to the living room to see if there was anything to be done there, when a sudden wave of nausea swept over me.

I leaned against the counter, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. It didn't help; the strong smell of coffee was suddenly assaulting my senses, and I swallowed thickly. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I rushed out of the kitchen, reaching the bathroom just in time. I fell on my knees in front of the toilet, trying to hold my hair out of the way, as I lost the tea I had consumed just a few minutes earlier. My stomach kept convulsing, but there was nothing left to retch but bile.

As a series of painful dry heaves racked my body, warm hands touched my shoulders, before gathering my hair and holding it out of the way.

When the heaves eventually ceased, I let myself sink toward the floor. I pressed my cheek against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, realizing that sweat was running down my face. I felt Carlisle touching my forehead and cheeks, and when he asked me to open my eyes, all I wanted to do was cry.

"Go away," I mumbled, trying to take even breaths. I hated how feeble I sounded. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Don't be silly, Bella," he said. I cracked my eyes open; he was leaning over me, his hair slightly messy from sleep. He looked completely awake, though; there was worry and alarm in his eyes. He was wearing pants – it seemed he'd been in a hurry, when he'd pulled them on. The buckle of his belt was still undone. "How long have you been feeling ill? You should've woken me."

"I had no reason to. I mean, I felt a little off when I woke up, but I wasn't feeling this sick."

"It started all of a sudden?"

I nodded, but since that made me feel dizzy, I stopped. My eyes slipped closed. Carlisle touched my forehead again. "Does your head hurt?"

"No. I don't think this is a migraine. It's something else. I must've caught a stomach flu or something – maybe you shouldn't touch me. I don't want you to get whatever this is."

Again, he wouldn't listen to me. He asked me if I still felt sick, and when I shook my head, he flushed the toilet and supported me as I slowly stood up. After I'd rinsed my mouth, he helped me to bed, and I glowered at him as he kept fussing over me, taking my temperature and asking me a series of questions.

"It's just a stomach bug," I insisted as he checked the thermometer, frowning.

"Maybe," he granted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Well, you're running a slight temperature. Does your stomach hurt? Do you have cramps? Any other symptoms?"

"No, Dr. Cullen," I answered, rolling my eyes. "I'm just really exhausted, that's all. I'll have to call work and tell them I can't come in today. I don't want to puke in someone's coffee." I shouldn't have thought about coffee – a wave of queasiness hit me instantly. I closed my eyes and somehow managed to fight it down.

"You should stay home a couple of days," Carlisle agreed, nodding. He glanced at the clock and got up, and a moment later, he was back again, holding his cell phone; it looked like he was going through his list of contacts.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, struggling to keep my eyes open. He sat down on the edge of the bed again.

"Just making a quick phone call. I'm canceling my classes."

I was instantly alert. "What? No, you're not! Not because of me. Don't be ridiculous, Carlisle. It's just a stomach flu. It's no big deal. Seriously, spending a couple of hours alone won't kill me."

I was instantly sorry after I'd said that. A shadow crossed his expression, and he stared down at the cell phone in his hand, swallowing thickly. He was silent for a long moment. "I'm just going through an endless list of possibilities in my head," he said quietly. "There are so many illnesses that can seem like an innocent stomach bug, and the thought of leaving you alone..." He sighed, shaking his head. "It could be an intestinal obstruction, diverticulitis, appendicitis…it could be any number of things, and some of those conditions can be very dangerous if left untreated. I'd like to stay and monitor you for a while."

"I'd have other symptoms if this was something serious," I told him, trying to calm him down.

"Not necessarily."

"Look..." I reached out for him, but then, I remembered I shouldn't touch him, and I drew my hand away. Carlisle ignored it; he grasped my hand and nearly clung to it. "It's more than likely this is just a stomach bug and nothing else. And even if it isn't, I have a phone. I can call you if I start to feel worse during the day." I paused, squeezing his hand. "You have to stop this, Carlisle. Stop being afraid of every little thing. This isn't the first time I've been sick, and it won't be the last. You can't blow things out of proportion every time something like this happens. You have to stop living in the worst-case scenarios. You can't keep tormenting yourself with all those bad things that might happen."

He sighed quietly. I held his gaze and gave him a wan smile.

"Now," I continued. "Since you keep touching me, regardless of my warnings, I'll bet in a few hours, you're going to start feeling strange, too. And when you're hugging the toilet tonight, you'll regret the fact that you didn't listen to me."

He gave a soft, sad chuckle and shook his head. "You must think I'm silly, overreacting like this."

I smiled. "You're still a doctor at heart," I murmured. "And it's not just that. You care about the people around you. That's what you were meant to do. I suppose those who have a broken heart do it best."

He raised my knuckles to his lips and kissed my hand; it seemed like he didn't know what to say. Maybe my words had caught him off guard. Wordlessly, he got up and pulled the bedcovers over me, and then he left the room. He returned a moment later, placing a glass of water and a packet of crackers on the bedside table.

"Only clear liquids today," he told me with a soft smile. "Apologies to the coffee addict in you."

"Apology accepted."

He chuckled. After seeing me drink a few sips of water, he seemed satisfied. He took a clean towel from the dresser and disappeared into the bathroom to take a shower.

I must have dozed off at some point; I woke up to the feeling of soft lips pressing against my temple. When I opened my eyes, I saw Carlisle that was fully dressed. He had his coat on – I was suddenly pretty sure he had been about to leave without waking me, but he had changed his mind and turned around at the door, deciding to check up on me one more time.

He placed my cell phone on the bed next to me, his blue eyes uncertain.

"I feel better," I said, just as he opened his mouth to ask. "Just tired."

He nodded. "Call me if you need anything," he said softly.

I held up three fingers. "Scout's honor."

He chuckled, and once again ignoring my resistance, he leaned closer to place a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes, and the weight disappeared from the bed as he got up. A moment later, I heard the door of my apartment open and close quietly.

I was almost instantly asleep. For the next few hours, I dreamed about a little girl with golden, untamed hair and cornflower blue eyes.

I stayed in bed for the rest of the morning, dozing off every now and then. At some point, I called the café, and when the manager heard I might have a stomach flu, she gladly gave me the rest of the week off, promising she'd get someone to cover for me.

I nibbled some of the crackers Carlisle had left on the bedside table, and when it seemed they'd stay down, I drained the water glass as well. I expected to feel queasy, but to be honest, I began to feel pretty much normal again. It confused me – I'd never gotten off this easy with a stomach flu before.

Finding it hard to stay in bed all day, I eventually got up and took a long shower. After getting dressed and wrapping my hair in a towel, I grabbed a book and a blanket and made my way to the living room. Just as I was about to lie down, there was a soft knock on the door. Frowning, I got up.

I heard keys in the lock. Only two people aside from me had keys to my apartment. Carlisle was one – I'd given him a key a few weeks ago, after we'd gotten back together - and the other person was...

"Rosalie." She stepped inside just as I emerged from the living room.

She gave me a smile, closing the door behind her. She was holding a takeout soup container in her hand. "Hey, you're up! How are you feeling?"

"Fine. A lot better," I answered, frowning. "Why aren't you at the salon?"

"It's been a quiet day. I only had two customers for the afternoon, but my mom promised to cover for me. I wanted to come by and see how you were doing – I brought you soup."

She offered me the container, and I took it.

"Thanks. But how did you know I was ill?"

"Actually, Carlisle called me and asked me if I had time to check up on you. He was going to do it himself on his lunch break, but something came up."

I closed my eyes, sighing. "He must've taken your number from my phone before he left. Sneaky."

"Actually, he already had my number. I called him in September, when we were planning that surprise birthday party for you."

"Oh, right. Of course."

Rosalie gave me a small smile. "He seemed really worried about you."

"He's overreacting, that's all. I feel normal again – I should probably text him and tell him that. He almost stayed home with me today – it took some effort to convince him to go to work.'"

When Rosalie nodded toward the soup container in my hand, I made my way to the kitchen. She followed me.

"Thanks for coming over," I told her, giving her a smile. "You didn't have to, though. Like I said, I feel pretty much normal. Kind of famished, actually. Have you eaten?"

She nodded. "Yeah, the soup is all yours. It shouldn't be too spicy or anything, so it won't upset you stomach."

I grabbed a spoon for myself and sat down at the table, and Rosalie took a seat across from me.

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to pass this bug on to you?" I asked as I began to eat my soup.

"Nah. I have a strong immune system." She was watching me closely. "You look a bit worn out. Do you have a fever?"

I shook my head. "I don't feel like I do – not anymore, at least. I was running a temperature this morning, just like a few days ago."

"What do you mean? Have you been feeling ill for a long time?"

I shrugged. "I was feeling a little off a while ago. I was more tired than normal, nauseous on and off, and I was feeling chilly all the time. Since it lasted several days, I figured I was coming down with something. But then, it passed. Or that's what I thought. This morning when I woke up, I began to feel strange again. I was making coffee, and the smell just turned my stomach. It's been a few years since I've felt that sick."

Rosalie frowned, staying silent for a moment. A strange look crossed her face. "Huh."

"What?" I asked, wondering why she looked like that.

She hesitated. "Was it the smell of coffee that made you sick?"

"Uh...maybe? I'm not sure. It made me feel worse, that's for sure." I stared at her, confused about her question. "Why do you ask?"

Instead of answering, she asked another question. "What kind of other symptoms have you had? When you first began to feel strange, I mean."

I shook my head, a little baffled. "Uh...I was feeling cold and tired a few days ago, like I said. I didn't really pay much attention to it. I'd forgotten about the whole thing, but then, this morning..." I trailed off, not knowing what she'd expected me to say. Her next question confused me even more.

"Have you been feeling hungrier than usual?"

I stared at her. "I don't know. Maybe. But I'm always hungry – except in the mornings. You know that."

She opened her mouth and then closed it again, hesitating. "Bella...are you…late?"

"Late?" I asked, blinking. "As in...late, late?"

She nodded wordlessly.

I opened my mouth to answer, hesitating. I stared at her, suddenly not knowing what to say. What to think.

"I don't know," I said again, and unfortunately, I was being honest. "I mean, my periods are very irregular now. It started when I had that copper coil fitted."

"How long ago was that?"

"Three years."

She blew out a slow breath. "Bella, I want you to think very carefully. These symptoms you've had...the chills, the weariness, the nausea...are you sure you haven't noticed anything else? Have you been more forgetful or short-tempered, for instance? Or more emotional?"

Almost immediately, I remembered the sudden onslaught of tears a couple of days ago, when Carlisle and I had been in bed together. I also remembered that day at the cemetery. I remembered how I'd been swallowing back tears when I'd seen Carlisle carrying Edward's daughter in his arms. But that had been just because the day had been emotional in itself. There was nothing more to it than that. Right?

Right?

"Rosalie," I began, but I stopped and shook my head, refusing to even consider it.

"Bella," she responded, holding my gaze, "Are you sure you're not–"

I shook my head again, before she even managed to finish. "No," I said slowly. "I am not pregnant. That's not...that can't...that's just...I mean – that's impossible. I have a copper coil, like said."

She raised her eyebrows. "It's not one hundred percent effective. No birth control method is. You know that."

"But...but..." I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water.

Rosalie let out a quiet sigh, giving me a careful smile. "You remember my cousin? The one who had a baby two years ago?"

"Vera?" I asked.

She nodded. "That's right. Well, she had a copper coil, too. But..." she trailed off meaningfully, falling silent.

My lips felt numb. "You're kidding."

"I'm not. Her son, Henry, turned two last month. The doctor told Vera these things happen – not often, but they do happen. IUDs can fail. Apparently, it's uncommon, but..."

I pushed the soup container away, suddenly nauseous once again, but this was a different kind of nausea. Or maybe it wasn't nausea at all – it was something like confusion. Something like fear. Something like...absolute horror.

"But Rosalie, I can't be pregnant! Carlisle..." I fell silent, not really knowing what I wanted to say. I shook my head and got up, beginning to pace around the kitchen like a lunatic. "This can't be happening. This is not happening. This can't happen, Rosalie."

She was watching me patiently. "Do you think he'd be upset?"

I gave a hysterical laugh. "Upset? He'll flip out! I've told you how he feels about this! According to Edward, becoming a father again is pretty much the worst thing that could happen to Carlisle. That's how much Alice's memory torments him. Look, he can't relate to these things...normally. I can't even begin to imagine how he'll react if I'm pregnant. This – can't – happen!"

"Okay. Alright," Rosalie's tone was appeasing, and she got up from her chair, coming to stand in front of me and putting a stop to my crazy pacing. "Calm down, okay? Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe you're right, and you've simply caught a stomach bug. Don't freak out unless there's something to freak out about. Okay?" She paused, waiting until I was breathing normally again – I hadn't even realized I sounded like I'd just run a marathon. "Just stay calm. I'll go and get you a pregnancy test, okay? I believe it's recommended that you take it in the morning, since the result will be more accurate–" she said, but seeing the shift in my expression, she backpedaled, "But of course, nothing stops you from taking it right away. I'll get you two, just in case. You can take the other test in the morning, if the result is...unclear."

She was about to turn to the door, but I caught her hand, staring at her.

"Rosalie...what if I am?" I asked quietly, my voice devoid of emotion.

She squeezed my fingers. "Then you are. Then we'll deal with it. And we'll hope Carlisle doesn't leave the country when he finds out."

I didn't even crack a smile at her small jest. "And the coil?" I asked, my voice trembling. "What if...I mean, is it harmful to the baby?"

"Well, Henry is a very healthy two-year-old, I assure you. Sometimes, they take it out if they can – that's what they did with Vera. But I've heard they sometimes leave it in place. I suppose it depends."

"But won't it harm the baby if they take it out? Or the fetus? Embryo? Whatever?"

She hesitated. "Well, I remember Vera telling me they'd warned her about there being a chance of miscarriage. But Bella, don't think about those things just yet. Don't get ahead of yourself. I'll get you that test, and then, we'll move on from there. Okay? When's Carlisle coming home?"

I glanced at the clock. "In two hours – if he isn't running late."

She nodded and then led me back to the table, urging me to sit down. Wordlessly, she microwaved my soup and then placed it in front of me again.

"Try to eat something. You'll feel better."

I barely heard her words. I barely heard her silent footfalls as she made her way to the door and left. I barely heard her car leaving the parking lot of my apartment complex, barely heard the ticking of the kitchen clock as the minutes slowly passed.

I felt frozen, immobilized. I couldn't think about what all this could mean, where this might lead. All I could think about was the drowned look in Carlisle's eyes, when I'd heard him speak Alice's name for the first time. All I could think about was the shadow that crossed his expression way too often. All I could think about was Edward's words a few weeks ago.

"He once swore to me that, he's never going to put himself through that again. He said he'd rather stay alone than take that kind of risk again. He said he doesn't want to – that he can't – become a father ever again... It's the worst thing that can possibly happen to him... Maybe he's also afraid of replacing Alice, in a way, as crazy as it sounds... I think he believes that starting a new life is something he doesn't deserve after his failure..."

I closed my eyes, and almost immediately, I remembered the dream I'd had this morning. I remembered the beautiful little girl with golden, unruly hair and cornflower blue eyes.

And then...I was suddenly crying.

I didn't know if they were tears of fear or joy. Maybe both. But when Rosalie came back fifteen minutes later, and when she found me bawling into my untouched soup, she came to me and wrapped me in a tight hug.

The thought of not having her there...it was frightening. She kept me sane as I sat down on the bathroom floor and waited for the required three minutes to pass. When her phone's timer chimed, announcing it was time to find out if my whole world was about to change or not, she met my eyes.

"Do you want me to look?" she asked quietly, nodding toward the bathroom counter where I'd placed the test stick.

I nodded mutely, trying to take a deep breath, but I felt like my lungs refused to cooperate.

Rosalie went to the counter and picked up the test stick. When she turned to look at me again, she didn't have to say anything; the answer was written in her eyes.

I drew my knees to my chest and wept.