Chapter 35
“Good morning, sunshine!” she chirped, brushing past me into the apartment. “I brought breakfast. You look like you could use it.”
I blinked at her, still half-asleep. “You’re way too cheerful for this hour.”
“It’s ten-thirty,” she said, setting the food on the counter. “That’s practically noon.”
The smell of coffee hit me first—rich and dark—and my stomach twisted violently. I pressed a hand to my mouth, swallowing hard.
Hattie noticed immediately. “Whoa, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… not hungry yet.”
She frowned but didn’t push. “Well, at least try a bite. I brought your favorite—lemon poppyseed muffins and coffee.”
I sat down at the kitchen island, unwrapping a muffin. The sight of it made my stomach churn again, but I took a small bite anyway, hoping it would settle. It didn’t.
Hattie, oblivious to my struggle, was already pulling her camera bag onto the table. “Okay, so I have something that’s going to make your day.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Does it involve me not moving for the next six hours?”
“Better,” she said, grinning. “The photos from your shoot with Wes are all edited and done!!”
My heart gave a small, nervous flutter. “Oh.”
She flipped open her laptop and turned it toward me. The screen filled with images—me and Wes standing in the golden light of the sunflower field, his arm around my waist, both of us laughing. Another of him tipping his hat toward me, his eyes soft, the corners of his mouth curved in that familiar half-smile.
I stared, speechless.
“They’re… beautiful,” I whispered.
“I know, right?” Hattie said proudly. “You two look like an actual couple. Like, I could sell these to a magazine.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The way Wes looked at me in those photos—it wasn’t posed. It was real. And that realization made my chest tighten.
Hattie leaned closer, studying my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “They just… turned out better than I expected.”
She smiled, satisfied. “I knew you’d love them. Oh, and before you say no, I’m printing one for the bakery wall. It’s too good not to.”
I laughed weakly. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking a triumphant sip of coffee. Then her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing. “You really don’t look good, Mais. You’re pale. And you’ve been sick all week.”
“It’s just exhaustion,” I said automatically. “The wedding, the cake, the stress—”
“Uh-huh,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “You’ve been saying that for days. You fainted two days ago, remember? You’re going to the doctor.”
“Hattie—”
“Nope. Not up for debate.” She grabbed her phone. “I’m calling Dr. Lewis’s office right now.”
I groaned, slumping in my chair. “You’re bossy when you’re right.”
“Exactly,” she said, already dialing.
An hour later, I found myself sitting in the small, familiar waiting room of Dr. Lewis’s clinic, clutching a bottle of water and trying not to think about how queasy I felt. Hattie sat beside me, flipping through a magazine like she hadn’t just dragged me out of my apartment against my will.
When the nurse finally called my name, Hattie stood too.
“You’re not coming in,” I said.
“Like hell I’m not,” she replied, following me anyway.
Dr. Lewis greeted us with her usual calm smile. “Maisie, it’s been a while. What brings you in today?”
I sighed. “I’ve been feeling off. Dizzy, nauseous, tired. Probably just overworked.”
Dr. Lewis nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s run a few quick tests to be sure.”
The next half hour passed in a blur of questions, blood pressure checks, and a small sample cup I’d rather not think about. Hattie kept up a steady stream of chatter to distract me, but my nerves were buzzing.
When Dr. Lewis returned, she was holding a clipboard and smiling gently. “Well, Maisie, I think we’ve found the reason you’ve been feeling unwell.”
I sat up straighter. “Oh?”
She glanced between me and Hattie. “You’re about two months pregnant.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unreal.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My mind went blank, then flooded all at once—memories, questions, panic. Two months. Was it that night with Wes or the night I had with Preston?
Hattie’s mouth fell open. “Wait—what?”
Dr. Lewis continued, her tone calm and reassuring. “Everything looks healthy so far, but you’ll need to start taking prenatal vitamins and get plenty of rest. I’ll schedule your first ultrasound for next week.”
I nodded numbly, my hands trembling in my lap. “Pregnant,” I repeated softly, as if saying it out loud would make it make sense.
Hattie reached over, squeezing my hand. “Maisie…”
I blinked hard, trying to process it. “I—I didn’t even think—”
Dr. Lewis smiled kindly. “It’s a lot to take in. But you’re going to be just fine.”