Chapter 7 007
EMILY
Pregnant.
The word didn’t just land. It exploded inside my chest, bright and blinding, like a firework I hadn’t been braced for.
One second I was drowning in divorce papers and regret and all the ways I had failed, and the next, there it was. A heartbeat. A tiny, stubborn rhythm that didn’t care about broken marriages or bad timing or how badly I had messed everything up.
For weeks, I’d felt hollow. Like someone had scooped out everything that mattered and left me walking around as a shell of the woman I used to be. And now this?
I stared at Dr. Jasmine, then at the ultrasound monitor where a small pulsing dot flickered on the screen. My mouth opened. Closed. Tried again. Still nothing came out.
Morgan burst back into the room like she’d been holding her breath the entire time she was gone. Her eyes went straight to my face, then to the monitor.
“You’re pregnant,” she whispered, like saying it too loudly might scare it away. “Baby… you’re pregnant.”
I nodded once. Tears slipped down my cheeks again, but they tasted different this time. Still salty, still sharp, but mixed with something else. Regret? Maybe.
“I’m pregnant,” I said, my voice cracking on every syllable. “I didn’t… I didn’t even suspect.”
Dr. Jasmine smiled. The kind that made you believe the ground might not collapse beneath your feet after all.
“You’re about two weeks along,” she said gently. “Everything looks perfect so far. Strong heartbeat. Good growth. You’re going to be a mom.”
Morgan’s hands flew to my face, cradling it like I was something fragile and priceless all at once. “Oh my God, Em. You’re going to have a baby.” Her voice broke on the last word. “This is happening. This is really happening.”
A short, shaky laugh escaped me, surprising us both. “Amazing feels like the wrong word right now, Mo. I can barely stand up without crying.”
“No,” she said firmly, blinking through her own tears. “It’s the perfect word. This is something real. Something that doesn’t disappear when everything else falls apart. You need this. You deserve this.”
I leaned back against the thin hospital pillow, breathing slow and deep. My chest still ached, but the ache had shifted. It wasn’t just pain anymore. There was space in it now. Room for something new.
“I don’t even know what to feel,” I admitted quietly. “I’m terrified. I’m sad. I feel guilty. And… maybe a little hopeful? Is that allowed?”
Morgan squeezed my hand until my knuckles turned white. “It’s not just allowed. It’s necessary.”
Dr. Jasmine stepped closer to the machine. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat again?”
I nodded before my brain could catch up.
She adjusted a few settings, pressed a button, and suddenly the room filled with sound.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
My breath caught. Morgan’s fingers tightened around mine.
“Do you hear that?” she whispered. “That’s your baby. That little warrior is already fighting to be here.”
Tears streamed down my face, but I was smiling through them. “It’s so loud,” I said, half laughing, half crying. “How can something so small make so much noise?”
“Because it’s yours,” Morgan said softly. “And it’s perfect.”
I closed my eyes and listened. For the first time in weeks, the noise in my head quieted. There was only that rhythm. Only life.
When the sound faded, I opened my eyes and looked at Morgan. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For staying. For not letting me disappear.”
“You never will,” she said, brushing my hair back. “I’ve got you. Always.”
And she meant it.
After the discharge paperwork was done and I was armed with prenatal vitamins, appointment reminders, and gentle warnings about stress and food and rest, Morgan drove me straight out of the hospital parking lot.
But instead of turning toward my house, she veered toward the mall.
I frowned. “Mo, I just got out of the hospital. I want my couch and my blanket and maybe a gallon of ice cream.”
“Exactly,” she said, grinning. “Which is why we’re doing this first.”
Twenty minutes later, we were walking through the bright, humming halls of the mall. I felt fragile, like one wrong move might crack me open again, but Morgan kept my hand firmly tucked in hers.
She pulled me into the first baby store we saw.
The smell hit me immediately. Fresh cotton. Baby powder. New beginnings.
Rows of tiny clothes lined the walls. Soft colors. Tiny buttons. Little socks no bigger than my thumb.
“Oh no,” I whispered. “This is too much.”
Morgan was already grabbing hangers. “Neutral colors. We don’t need to know anything yet. We just need to celebrate.”
She held up a gray onesie with tiny yellow ducks. “Tell me this isn’t ridiculous.”
“It’s ridiculous,” I said softly. “And perfect.”
She added it to the pile.
Somewhere between the bear-shaped knit hat and the impossibly soft blanket, I started helping. Carefully at first. Then with more confidence. My arms filled up before I realized it.
At the register, the total made my eyes widen. Morgan didn’t even blink.
“Mo—”
“Don’t,” she cut in. “This is my first niece or nephew. Let me have this.”
We walked out carrying four huge bags. People smiled at us.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t want to hide.
When we got to the car, Morgan looked at me. “Your place or mine?”
I inhaled slowly. “Mine.”
She nodded. No arguments.
On the drive, she glanced at me. “Are you going to tell Ryan?”
The question settled heavy between us.
“No,” I said quietly. “Not now.”
She squeezed my knee. “Okay. Then we do this your way.”
The house was dark and quiet when we got back. The envelope still sat on the table like it was waiting for me.
We unpacked the baby clothes on the living room rug. Folded them. Refolded them. Lined them up like they mattered.
When I finally picked up the pen, my hand didn’t shake.
I signed.
Morgan wrapped her arms around me. “I’m proud of you.”
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said. “But you’re not alone.”
“I’m going to be okay,” I said softly.
Morgan smiled. “You’re going to be incredible.”
And I believed it.