“It was when I thought about that life, the fact that it was a life, that I had to turn around. Because I’d rather lose my own life than take the life of a child.”
And maybe she was overreacting on the health issues. Dr. Hall had scared the hell out of her. But Dr. Anderson hadn’t seemed all that alarmed. And Becca had been trusting Dr. Anderson for almost twenty years.
She tried to chuckle, sort of choked, instead. “I’m scared, Will.”
“I know.”
It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give Becca hope.
“I’m afraid for my health, scared to death something’s going to go wrong.”
“You’ll have the best care,” he said softly. “With today’s technology, the doctors know things about our bodies before we do. I wouldn’t ever let your life be put at risk, Becca. We’ll have all the tests, make sure you’re carefully monitored—everything.”
The tension at the back of her neck eased just a bit.
“I’m afraid to let myself hope,” she continued, pouring her heart out to him. “What if we go through all this and something happens? What if I miscarry or the baby dies?”
He rubbed his eyes, pulling his fingers through his hair before allowing them to drop back to the table. “There’s no life without hope, Becca,” he said. His voice wasn’t quite as cold, but it wasn’t loving, either. “And in life, there are simply no guarantees, either. We just have to carry on as best we can and find ways to cope with whatever happens.”
Despite his assurances, he still hadn’t moved. He wasn’t grabbing her up, whirling her around. He wasn’t celebrating.
“I made another appointment with Dr. Anderson for Monday,” she offered tentatively, trying to gauge his state of mind. Trying to figure out where she stood—and how to get closer to him. “I figured you’d want to be there, so I took the latest one she had.”
Naming the time, Becca said a little prayer that her husband would go with her. She couldn’t do this alone. No matter what anyone thought, she just couldn’t. She’d waited too long. Been disappointed too many times.
“I do want to be there, thank you,” he said. The shadowy shape across from her remained stiff, unyielding.
“She’s already done the exam, but she wants to talk to us about maintenance over the next few months and put me on vitamin supplements.”
“Good.”
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy?” He said the word as though it was foreign to him.
“About the baby.”
“I’m exceedingly relieved.”
“But not happy?”
Coming around the table, he took her into his arms. Finally. Becca sank against him, waiting for Will to crush her to him—to squeeze the tension out of her and the fear.
He didn’t. He held her loosely, his lower body not in contact with hers.
“I’m not sure what happy is anymore, Bec,” he said. His tone, at least, intimate.
Becca’s heart skidded. “What do you mean?”
He moved away from her, hands in his pockets. “I feel I don’t know you anymore, for starters,” he said.
She struggled to breathe. “Why not?” But she knew. If she was honest, she had to admit she’d barely recognized herself.
“The woman I married, the woman I’ve lived with through disappointment after disappointment, would never have considered aborting our child—not unless it was one hundred percent absolutely necessary. Probably not even then. The woman I thought I was married to would have wanted this baby, would have wanted the chance to experience midnight feedings and diaper changes—not worried about how they were going to change her life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s made me take a good hard look at things, at us, our lives, and I begin to wonder if I ever knew you at all….”