who was just as happy as I was to welcome these little humans into the world. He came with me to every single sonogram appointment. I get nostalgic at the memory of the bright, adorable smile on his face when he saw the blobs on the screen. My throat tightens a little and I close my eyes and let my thoughts drift.
She drags the gadget across my stomach, the feel of it sleek. And as she taps at her computer, I close my eyes, not wanting to see, not wanting to become more attached than I already am.
She uh-ums and clicks away, and finally, she says, “Looks like about nine weeks.”
I open my eyes, and look at the screen. She points to the baby. And I see the shape on the screen. It’s hard to make out, but I can kind of see him…or her — a big head tucked into limbs. “Can I listen to the heart?” I ask. I don’t know what possesses me, but I want to hear it.
She looks away and doesn’t say a word.
I hear the quick thump-thump and I start crying, emotion taking a full hold of me. There’s no stopping it.
This is real.
This heart beating belongs to my child. Weston’s child. I can’t believe I would even consider this…even for a second. For some, it might be the right choice. But it isn’t for me.
“I know it’s very hard,” Alicia says. “This is probably the hardest decision you’ll ever have to make.”
I lean my head back down on the pillow and bury my drenched face in my hands. I can’t do this. I need to leave.
I practically sprint out of the room when the exam is done. When I make my way back to the reception area, Gwen looks up from her magazine. Her features shift when she sees me. I’m sure I must look dreadful. She stands up, but I run right past the waiting area and take refuge in the private bathroom.
I lock the door, not wanting her in with me.
Sure enough, she knocks. “Talk to me, Mirella.”
“Go away!” I scream. “I’m never talking to you again.”
I squat down against the door in tears, my face buried in my hands. Seeing that sonogram really shook me. I can’t help but think about Weston. He should know we have created a life. He has the right to know. My hands shake a little as I dig my cell out of my bag. My finger quivers as I slide it across the screen. I’m still crying as I press ‘contacts’ and slide my finger across the screen repeatedly until I reach ‘Weston’. My heart pounds as I press the green phone icon and wait.
I close my eyes when he answers.
“Mirella?” Weston says softly. “Hello.”
I don’t say a word.
“What are you doing in there?” Gwen shouts across the door.
“Damn you, Gwen,” I cry out and press on the ‘end call’ icon.
I just can’t do it. Not now. Not here. Not like this.
I stand and tuck away my phone. I wash my face, determined to walk out of here with my head high. I even finger-comb my hair and dab on a little lipstick. I jump at the sound of the old familiar Beyoncé tune playing on my cell. I grab my phone and see Weston’s name on the display. My heart hammers in my chest. I can’t talk to him. I let it go to voice mail and head out of the bathroom, my feet dragging.
Gwen is waiting impatiently. She practically jumps on me and wraps her arm around my shoulders. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Talk to me.”
“I want to go. I can’t do it.”
“That’s fine,” she says, her voice soft. “We’ll go.”
As we head back to her car, she digs in her purse for her keys. “What were you doing in there?”
I debate between lying or just not saying anything at all. But I decide I’m tired of lying and hiding the truth. “Calling him,” I confess. “I was calling Weston.”
She stops dead in her tracks. “What?”
I wince, not quite looking at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…I called him, but then I hung up.”
She starts to walk again. “Good. Glad to hear you came to your senses.”
As she’s just about to back up the car, my phone rings again. She fixes me, wide-eyed. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
I pull the phone out of my bag, yet again. “Yes.”
“Don’t answer it,” she orders. “And don’t you dare answer when he calls again. You still need time