“Cam,” Noah says, snapping me from my thoughts. “I think you need to have your pregnancy confirmed.”
I nod once and the doctor pulls out a small instrument. “Do you have any idea how far along you might be?”
“No,” I choke out. “We never used protection.”
“Can you recall when your last period was?”
I think back, trying to remember, but my brain is fuzzy. My cycle has never been regular, and I know I haven’t had my period since I met Isaac. We were only together for a short time... I count back to when I first met him. “We were together for about two months.”
She stills her hand. “Then we should probably use the probe.” She glances back at Noah. “Can you give us a few minutes? Camilla’s going to have to get undressed.”
He jumps up. “Yeah. If you need anything…”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Once he’s gone, Dr. Parker hands me a paper cover up, so I can take my pants off. “This is a portable ultrasound machine, so it’s not going to be as clear as the newer ones in the office, but it’ll tell us what we need to know.”
She rolls a condom on the wand and drops some lube on the head. As she pushes it inside of me, I wince at the intrusion. “Sorry, it’s normal for it to hurt a little.”
As she moves it around, I stare at the screen, unsure what I want to see. There are only two options in this situation: I’m either pregnant or I’m not, and I’m too lost in my grief to know which is the better option—until the screen fills with a gray circle and inside that circle is a smaller oval. She clicks a button and the room fills with a faint whooshing sound.
“That’s the heartbeat. Strong and steady. I can’t measure on here, but based on the size, I would say you’re between six and eight weeks.”
I block out everything else she says, allowing my mind to go numb, until she’s gone and I’m left in the room by myself. Robotically, I climb out of bed and go straight to the bathroom. I pull my shirt over my head and step into the shower, turning it on hot. As the water runs down my body, it all hits me at once.
I’m pregnant with Isaac’s baby and he’s gone. I choke on a sob at the realization he’ll never meet the baby we created through our love. He’ll never hold him, kiss him, hug him. He won’t be here to experience my pregnancy with me, or to witness his first steps, or first day of kindergarten. But as I cry over everything we’ll never have together, finally accepting he’s gone, my hand goes to my belly and I can’t help but be thankful that in this horrible, tragic nightmare, he’s left me with the most precious little miracle. A piece of himself. And even though I’ll never see him again, a part of him will always be with me.
When the shower goes cold, I get out and get dressed, feeling better than I’ve felt since the day of the explosion.
“You okay?” Noah asks, when I walk out to the living room and find him sitting on the couch, typing on his laptop. “The doctor said…”
“I’m pregnant.” I sit across from him on the love seat and tuck my legs under me. “Am I okay? No, but for the baby, I need to be.” I cradle my still-flat belly, vowing to protect this little guy at all costs. He’s all I have left of Isaac. He wanted this so badly, and it wasn’t until I heard the heartbeat that I realized how much I did too. It didn’t matter that we were only together a short time. We loved each other, and through this baby, our love will live on.
“I’m sorry,” Noah says softly.
“It’s not your fault.” I wrap my arms around my body and Noah gets up and drapes a blanket over me. “So, the funeral? It’s on Monday?”
“Yeah. Frank took care of everything. The service is being held at the same church his parents’ service was held.”
I snort humorlessly at the irony of it. His parents died in a car accident, their bodies burned from it exploding, and twelve years later, Isaac died in a similar manner. No bodies, no closure for any of them. They can never be laid to rest. No ashes. Nothing. It’s as if they never even existed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CAMILLA
Attending Isaac’s funeral was harder than I imagined. I might’ve accepted that he’s gone, but stepping into the church and being surrounded by people who are there to say goodbye to him was not easy at all. When the first person walked up to me and introduced himself as an associate and friend of Isaac’s, and I didn’t know who he was, nor had I ever heard his name mentioned, it hit me how much I still had to learn about the man I loved—and I would never have the opportunity to do so. What we had… those short, beautiful months, were all we would ever have.