11
My session with Jasper is draining. The only thing I want to do is go home, crawl into bed, and sleep until tomorrow. But I can't. There's another, more pressing appointment I need to make.
"Olympic Medical Women's Health. This is Gloria. How may I help you?"
"This is Isabella Masen. I need to make an appointment."
"What do you need to be seen for?"
I swallow and lick my lips, closing my eyes as I utter the words for the first time. "I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant."
Doctor Jones walks into the exam room, her smile wide. "Looks like congratulations are in order, Mrs. Masen. The test was positive."
My happiness is genuine, a glimmer of hope and promise in the darkness of what my life has become. For the first time in forever, I don't have to force a smile. "Thanks."
"Let's start with an exam." She guides me to lie back on the table. "Then, since you weren't certain about the dates, how about we get a peek at your little nugget with an ultrasound so we can get you a more accurate due date?"
Once the tech rolls the machine into the room, turns out the lights, and pushes the condom-wrapped probe inside me, the screen of the monitor lights up. And there, in swirls of fuzzy black and white, is an image that brings tears of joy.
Life.
Walking to my car, I can't stop looking at the printed ultrasound images. It may only be an alien-shaped being growing inside me, but I'm already head over heels in love with it. After so many weeks of utter despair, I'm almost drunk on the happiness thrumming through my veins.
Twelve weeks. For nearly three months, I thought I was alone, but I really wasn't. I've been carrying a piece of Edward with me the whole time.
The doctor told me I likely conceived in late June. Thinking back, maybe the last time we …
I shake off my errant thoughts, focusing back on the fuzzy image in my hand. I can make out the head and its profile, the torso and forming limbs. Even at its earliest stages, this being has stolen what's left of my heart.
I'm nearly to my car when the baby-fine hairs on the back of my neck rise. A chilled rush of air brings goosebumps to my skin. And when a pebble skitters along the concrete behind me, I realize someone is following me.
Tucking the ultrasound pictures into my purse and grabbing for my keys, I pick up my pace. With my heart racing and my focus on my car, I resist the urge to turn around and see who—or what—might be behind me.
Closing the distance, I frantically hit the unlock button on my key fob, hearing the repeating beeps echo off the parking garage walls. Trembling from the inside out, I reach for the door handle, whipping it open and sliding inside, locking the door behind me.