Page 70 of Only Ever Yours

When Noah saw I was close to losing it, he swooped in and saved me. He sat next to me in the front row of the church and held me while I cried silently as the priest spoke of love and loss and whatever the hell else he said that wouldn’t change the fact that Isaac was gone.

By the end of the service, I was such a mess, Noah insisted on taking me back to his house instead of attending the post funeral reception. It’s not like I know anybody there, and nobody, aside from Noah and Yasmin—who sat in a different row, since the first row was only supposed to be for family—which was pretty damn depressing since it was only Noah, me, and some other guy I’ve never met before—knows me.

“You need to eat,” Noah says, bringing a tray of food over and setting it on the nightstand next to me. I’m not hungry, but for the sake of the baby, I thank him and pick at the sandwich and soup he made for me. When I’ve had enough to fill my stomach, I lie back under the covers and close my eyes, wondering if the pain in my heart will ever lessen. I know it’s only been a short time since Isaac’s death, but I can’t imagine how anyone lives through the day to day pain. My heart literally feels like it’s constantly being squeezed by a barbed wire every second of every day. Maybe it’s because I lost my mom at such a young age, but I don’t remember it hurting this badly. Some mornings, I wake up and find my pillow stained with my tears. Apparently I can’t even escape my heartbreak in my sleep.

The days move forward, and I remain holed up in Noah’s guestroom. He offers to take me away, but I don’t want to go anywhere. He brings me books, tries to get me to watch television with him, but I can’t find it in me to do anything other than sleep and eat and think about Isaac.

I’m not sure what day or month or hell, even year, it is, until Noah drags me to the doctor for my checkup and the doctor tells me how far along I am.

“Based on the measurements, you’re fifteen weeks along. Your due date is February 20.”

“Fifteen weeks?” I go to sit up but quickly stop myself, remembering she’s giving me an ultrasound. “I thought I was like… eight weeks.”

Dr. Parker stops and glances at me, her lips curving into a concerned frown. “Camilla, you were eight weeks at our last appointment. You were supposed to make one to see me at twelve weeks, but you forgot. I called Noah to check on you and he scheduled one. It’s been almost two months since I’ve seen you.”

Two months… It’s been over two months since Isaac died and I found out I’m going to be a mom. I thought I was doing okay, getting through it, but apparently not because I have no idea where the hell the last two months have gone.

“You can’t feel it yet,” she continues, “but your baby is squirming in there.” She points to the screen and my eyes follow, landing on the tiny little baby. Oh my God! It’s a baby. There’s a head and little limbs and a heartbeat fluttering in his tiny chest.

Tears spring from my lids and Noah is instantly at my side. I didn’t realize he was in here. “Are you okay?” he asks, wiping a tear that’s trailing down the side of my face.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I just…” I can’t take my eyes off the screen, off the little baby moving. “I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby,” I choke out.

“You are,” Dr. Parker says with a hesitant smile. “How do you feel about that?”

A myriad of emotions run through me: scared, lonely, sad, angry, but more than anything… “I’m happy.” I never imagined saying those words, but it’s the truth. I’m scared shitless of doing this without Isaac. I’m lonely without his comforting love. I’m sad he’s not here with me, and I’m angry as hell that someone took him from me. But I’m also happy that inside of me is a beautiful piece of us.

“Sometimes it’s too early to tell the sex, but I was able to get a glimpse. Would you like to know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

“Umm…” I could wait for it to be a surprise, but right now, I kind of feel like if I know the sex it will help me connect with the baby. “Yes, I would.”

“Congratulations, you’re having a boy.”

“A boy…” I’m having a boy. I can already picture him with Isaac’s messy brown hair and devilishly handsome smile. I wonder if he’ll have my green eyes or his light brown.


Tags: Nikki Ash Romance