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I reach out and take her hand, her happiness warming my heart. “Me too,” I tell her. “More than I can say.”
Get it out of your mind,I tell myself as I lift my hand off hers. I get to raise my baby with the most desirable woman I’ve ever met in my life.
Thatismore than enough, even if the package doesnotcome with said woman.
I need to be content with that.
CHAPTER23
GIGI
Pain in my midriff pulls me out of sleep and into full-blown consciousness. I blink in the sunlight, taking in a few things—that it’s morning, that I’m almost late for work, and….
The pain hits again, and this time, a moan wrenches itself from my mouth. I look down at my bare stomach, wondering what the hell is wrong.
Instead, I see something else.
Blood.
My sheets are covered with blood around my midriff.
I hear myself let out another groan. Panic surges within me, and it’s difficult to breathe, think, or feel anything other than paralyzing fear.
Am I miscarrying?
Tears sting my eyes and pour down my cheeks. It’s hard to allow myself the thought, but a deep, darker part of my mind is telling me that it’s the truth. I look around in panic, hoping to spot something that could help.
My roving eyes catch sight of my phone on my nightstand.
I feel temporary relief as I reach for it with trembling fingers. It’s seven-thirty and a little bit early, but only oneperson can understand what I’m feeling.
Bran picks up on the first ring.
“Georgina,” he says, his voice thicker than usual. “Are you alright?”
I open my mouth to talk, but a sob comes out instead.
“Georgina.” Bran suddenly sounds twice as alert. “What is wrong?”
“The baby,” I manage to choke. “I’m bleeding.”
“I’m on my way.” The phone goes dead.
I sit in my blood-soaked bed, hugging my legs as despair descends upon me. Things were finally starting to work out. I’d started to build mental pictures in my head of the baby, how I would raise her, what possible names I’d give her. Bran and I had reached a conclusion about raising her together.
Everything was…perfect.
I lived most of my life without a baby or even the desire to have one. But, right now, the knowledge that I might have lost the one growing in my womb feels like my heart is being ripped in two.
Somehow, Icannotgo back to a world where I am not pregnant. Where all of my love for my baby is translated into abject despair.
There’s a knock on the door.
Hope seizes me as I struggle to get to my feet. I don’t know why, but even the mere presence of Bran around me would make me feel better.
The cramps in my stomach terrify me, and I fall back onto the bed, more tears rolling down my cheeks.
Bran knocks again, but I don’t even try to get up.
