47

Three days later.

Cole took my bag from my shoulder, his grip firm and comforting, as he guided me toward the entrance of the clinic. His presence was a steady anchor in the chaos that roiled inside me. We walked in silence, my heart racing with every step, the weight of the unknown pressing down on me harder than ever before.

As we entered the building, a faint smell of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of distant conversations. The reception area was quiet, the soft murmur of voices and the occasional rustle of paperwork breaking the stillness. A woman behind the counter smiled at us as we approached, but it felt like the world was muffled, like I was underwater and everyone else was on the surface, just out of reach.

“Becca  Lawson?” the receptionist called, glancing up from her computer screen.

I nodded, my throat tight. Cole squeezed my hand reassuringly as we moved toward the counter. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Please have a seat. Dr. Rawlings will be with you shortly,” she said, gesturing to a row of chairs.

We settled into the seats, and I tried to breathe through the wave of anxiety that crashed over me. I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. What was I even doing here? I hadn’t made any decisions, not really. I hadn’t even figured out who the father was. I could barely even wrap my mind around the idea of a child, let alone the future that was suddenly thrust upon me.

Cole sat beside me, his body angled toward mine in an unspoken show of support. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, the world outside the clinic disappeared. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered, his voice low and steady.

I nodded, though my stomach churned in doubt. I had no idea how any of this would be okay. But Cole seemed to believe it, and for now, that was enough to keep me tethered to this moment.

Minutes later, the door to the waiting area opened, and a nurse stepped out with a warm smile. “Becca ? Dr. Rawlings is ready for you.”

My legs felt like they were made of lead as I stood, but Cole was right there beside me, helping me with my bag and offering me the calm reassurance I so desperately needed.

The nurse led us down a long hallway, the click of our footsteps echoing in the sterile silence. She opened a door and gestured for me to step inside. “Just take a seat. Dr. Rawlings will be with you in a moment.”

I walked into the room, trying not to look at the sterile, cold examination table at the center. I glanced around instead, noting the soft lighting and the shelves filled with medical supplies, which did little to ease my nerves. It all felt so clinical, so detached from the reality of what I was about to face.

Cole stood by the door, his eyes on me as I sat down. “I’m right here,” he murmured, and I gave him a small, appreciative smile.

I waited for what felt like an eternity before Dr. Rawlings walked in. She was a woman in her early forties, with dark, straight hair pulled into a neat bun and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. She exuded professionalism, her presence immediately filling the room with an air of calm authority.

“Hello, Becca . I’m Dr. Rawlings. How are you feeling today?” she asked, her voice warm but clinical.

I opened my mouth to respond, but my throat tightened, and no words came out. Cole was there, though, always ready to step in when I couldn’t find the strength. “We’re just nervous,” he said for me, his tone even, as though it were an everyday concern.

Dr. Rawlings nodded understandingly. “It’s perfectly normal to feel that way. This is a big step.” She moved over to the computer and typed something into it before turning back to me. “Now, let’s get started. I’ll need to take a quick look at your medical history before we proceed. We’ll do an ultrasound to get a better look at the pregnancy and figure out where we go from here.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how little I knew about what was to come. “What happens after the ultrasound?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling just slightly.

“We’ll discuss your options, and I’ll make sure we’re on the right track for your health. After all, we need to make sure that you and the baby are well taken care of,” Dr. Rawlings explained. “But we’re not in a rush. You’re in control of how we move forward.”

Her words were meant to reassure me, but it still felt like everything was slipping through my fingers, out of my control. I didn’t know how I was supposed to make these decisions. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for any of it.

As the nurse prepared the ultrasound machine, I felt Cole’s hand rest on mine, warm and steady. He gave me a small, reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone in this,” he whispered.

I nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. This wasn’t how I imagined my life would go. But somehow, with Cole beside me, it didn’t feel as impossible as it had when I first found out.

The nurse stepped back, and Dr. Rawlings approached with a smile. “Ready, Becca ?”

I took a deep breath. “Ready,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was ready for. All I knew was that I had to take the next step. Whatever happened after that, we’d face it together.