Until Her (Sequel)

chapter nine

"Pregnant?" I gaped, practically unable to get my lips and tongue in conjunction enough to form the word I thought I wouldn't mutter for years.

She stood, holding my hand. "Yes," she beamed. I was trapped in a metaphorical fetal position. My stomach dropped instantly. "and it's okay. It may not be what you expected, but this is good news, Chloe."

"G-good news?" I whispered, hardly able to catch my breath. "Carter and I wanted to wait! I'm twenty-six, for God's sake!"

"Some women conceive and give birth at much younger."

"But—but... not me! We wanted to wait a few more years! Oh my gosh, what if he's furious?!" Uncontrollably, my mind went rampant as I pictured the hundreds of emotions that Carter might feel when he knows. I don't even know how I feel. All I know is that this wasn't planned.

She squeezed my hand tighter, reminding me of the time that Peyton squeezed the life out of my hand when I was in the hospital because of Warren. Saving my mind from going to darker places, Dr. Ahmad grabbed my attention.

"This is your choice, of course, and you don't have to decide now." When my breaths finally slowed, she continued. "At least let me get a look so we can see how far along you are."

Tears streamed down my face. This is the last thing I needed right now. While she left to get the needed equipment, I forced myself not to cry. I wasn't upset, I wasn't pissed that my body had created a miracle... I didn't know how to feel. My IUD was practically bullet-proof with four more years of protection. This was the last thing I expected coming in here today. Now a ridiculous pap was the least of my worries.

She returned, meticulously putting together the equipment like it wasn't the scariest sight I've ever seen. I'd faced rejection, two attacks, an awful and abusive father-in-law, writing until my bones went numb.... But this? A living, breathing child—a life—inside of me? To nurture, to love, to grow inside of me? I had never been so terrified.

The jelly was cold. The feeling of the monitor on my belly had to be the weirdest, most surreal feeling I've had maybe ever. I watched her observe, scared of what she'd say. When a tiny, fragile heartbeat echoed through the machine, my eyes darted to the monitor. My heart leapt, my stomach dropped into my toes.

A hint of a smile appeared on her face. "Wow... Well, Chloe... You seem to be at about ten weeks."

"Wha—How—Two months?!" I shrieked. Impossible. The scan was wrong. Everything was wrong. There was no way I could be a mother if I didn't notice a little life growing inside of me for two whole months.

"With overwhelming stress and a busy schedule, some women simply don't notice."

Simply don't notice. Nothing about this is simple—I abandoned my body in sacrifice of what I thought was most important for months. I was already a terrible mother, and I hadn't even wrapped my mind around my new identity yet.

I tried remembering all the times I hadn't felt my best in the last weeks, and all the pieces slowly came together. I got lightheaded often because I fed myself for one, although my body was providing for two. I spent an entire day lying in a chair because my hormones were out of control. I threw up from one cocktail. I threw up in the middle of the night out of nowhere. How had I not noticed something was different?

I blinked, more tears falling down my stained face. "I...I...I've been drinking coffee. I've been boxing and doing other high-cardio intense workouts. I don't get eight hours of sleep. I don't get my full servings of vegetables usually! I—" I rambled, stopped by her hand resting firmly on mine.