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“You got an email. From the wait list. You can go home. You can’t stay here for me. No, don’t shake your head, I don’t want to hear it. You should get out of Rome while you can. If they’ll let you.”
He continued shaking his head, and a smile touched his lips. “That’s the thing, Molly. Look.” He picked up my phone from the table. “You got an email from the wait list yesterday. Your request was finally processed. You can book a flight home anytime! Well, notanytime. We have to wait until it’s been forty-eight hours after a negative virus test. But that should be soon. We’re going home, Molly. We’re finally going home.”
It took several heartbeats for the words to sink in. Then cool, calming relief washed over me. The day we had been waiting for had finally come.
We could leave.
But my relief was quickly replaced by sadness. Leaving Rome meant leavinghim, Donovan, the man who looked absolutely gorgeous even though he probably hadn’t showered in several days. What was originally supposed to be a one-week trip had lasted almost two months, and yet I wasn’t ready for it to be over.
I wasn’t ready forusto be over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He was still all smiles.
“Donovan…” I said. I struggled to think of the words to express how I felt. “I…”
There was a courtesy knock on the open door, and then a white-coated doctor strode into the room. She was wearing a plastic face shield and a mask, and she had a big smile for me.
“She’s awake!” the doctor said in very good English. “At long last, sleeping beauty has returned to us. It was a kiss from her prince, was it not?”
“The first nineteen kisses on her forehead didn’t work, but I guess the twentieth did,” Donovan replied.
“You are a lucky woman,” the doctor told me, “to have such a devoted man. He did not leave your side since you arrived, I swear it. How are you feeling, Molly?”
“I feel… pretty good,” I said. “My throat is really sore, and it hurts to talk. And I’m still exhausted.”
The doctor read the numbers on one of the machines next to my bed, and nodded to herself. “You were fortunate. Your oxygen levels never became too low, so we did not need to connect you to a respirator. The intravenous drip was sufficient, and your body did the rest.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“We drew additional blood this morning, and I hope you are no longer positive for the virus. If that is the case, and your condition continues improving, you may leave the hospital in two days time.”
Donovan squeezed my hand and grinned. I smiled back at him.
The doctor flipped through two pages on her clipboard. “We do not think the fetus was affected by your respiratory issues or fever, but when you return home we recommend you begin taking a higher dose of prenatal vitamins.”
Donovan suddenly stood up a little straighter.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the doctor. “The what?”
The doctor blinked at me in confusion. “The fetus. This is the word in English, yes? You are with child. You are pregnant.”
50
Molly
The Day I Learned I Was Pregnant
“Based on the hCG hormone in your bloodwork,” the doctor explained, “you are quite pregnant! It is early, of course, and we have been too busy to perform any of the relevant tests, but at this time we have no reason to believe the virus has any effect on the gestation of a child. I will leave you to your doctor in America to take additional steps, although—as I said—a stronger dose of prenatal vitamins is a good first step. Do you have any questions for me?”
I stared at the doctor without really hearing her. A switch had flipped in my brain as soon as she said the wordfetus.
I was pregnant.
My mind raced. It must have happened when my birth control ran out. We switched to condoms two days before the last pill, which was already a slight risk, but there was also the time we fooled around without a condom and Donovan pulled out…
My eyes swung to Donovan. His mouth hung open, and he was blinking rapidly. He looked like he was in shock.
Then he looked down at me. Our eyes met, and I held my breath while waiting for his reaction.
