“…okay, but did you know the fastest train in Japan runs over two hundred miles an hour?”
Eli’s small voice responded, hesitant at first, then slowly more engaged. Kei kept the conversation going, calm and steady, like he was building a distraction brick by brick.
Tears slipped down my temples as I lay on the exam table.
The gel was cold when the technician spread it across my stomach. The wand pressed down, moving slowly, methodically. I held my breath so long my lungs burned.
Then....
That sound.
Rapid. Strong. Unmistakable.
Heartbeat.
The relief hit like a physical blow. My chest caved inward as sobs broke free before I could stop them.
“Everything looks good,” the doctor said gently, adjusting the screen. “Heartbeat is strong. Measurements look appropriate for gestational age. This is most likely round ligament pain, possibly worsened by stress. Spotting can happen, but we’ll monitor you closely. You need rest. No heavy lifting. Minimal stress if possible.”
Minimal stress.
I almost laughed at that.
Instead, I nodded through tears.
....
By the time Kei drove us home, exhaustion had settled deep in my bones. Eli fell asleep halfway there, his head sliding onto my shoulder, small breaths warm against my neck.
Kei carried him inside first, then came back for me, offering his arm even though I could technically walk now.
I didn’t argue.
Cal showed up hours later.
I was curled on the couch with a blanket over my lap, lights dimmed, TV playing silently just for background noise. The house smelled like salt air and leftover coffee. Eli was upstairs asleep.
The front door opened and closed casually, like nothing about today had been urgent or terrifying or life-altering.
Cal walked in wearing sunglasses and a loose hoodie, pushing his hair back as he stepped into the living room.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I stared at him.
“You didn’t answer,” I said quietly.
He tossed his keys onto the table. “My phone died.”
“You were tagged in videos at rehearsal an hour after I called.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “I charged it later.”
I stood slowly, blanket sliding off my legs. “I texted you that I was bleeding. Cramping. That I needed the ER.”
“You’re standing here,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward me. “So clearly you handled it.”
“I could’ve lost the baby, Cal.”
