Another child connected to Harrison.
The thought both terrifies me and fills my chest so completely I can barely breathe.
“I—I need a minute,” I say quietly.
“Of course,” she replies, standing. “Take your time. I’ll be back with the next steps.”
The door clicks shut and I’m alone again.
I press both hands to my stomach now, palms flat, like I’m afraid I won’t believe it unless I can feel it for myself.
“Holy fucking shit,” I whisper. “Pregnant.”
A baby.
Another baby.
Harrison’s child.
Again.
The room spins slightly, and I grip the edge of the exam table to steady myself. This is why I’ve been so tired. Why I’ve been getting sick. Why I cry watching that stupid commercial about rescue dogs finding forever homes every time it plays.
This is really happening.
My heart pounds so loudly I swear the doctor will hear it when she returns. I’m going to have another baby…at my age…with a preteen son who just found out his father exists. With a career that’s finally thriving. With Harrison, who’s only just stepped into fatherhood for the first time.
Harrison.
Oh God, how am I going to tell Harrison?
We only just told Connor about Harrison being his dad two weeks ago.
This is all happening so soon.
It’s too fast.
I close my eyes, trying to calm the nerves spouting off like fireworks inside my stomach. This wasn’t planned. This wasn’t even on my radar of possibilities. Looking back, I realize it should’ve been. We weren’t exactly careful, especially not that night. Since Harrison learned I was in Anaheim, emotions have been running high and protection was an afterthought.
What am I going to do?
What are we going to do?
I have to tell him.
I can’t keep this from him.
Not this time.
A knock at the door startles me. Dr. Wheeler returns with a folder and a gentle smile.
“How are we doing?” she asks, sitting back down on her rolling stool.
“I’m okay,” I say, trying to steady my voice. “Just… processing.”
She nods, understanding written across her face. “That’s completely normal. For now, I want you to start on prenatal vitamins right away.” She hands me the folder. “Here’s information about what to expect, dietary recommendations, and appointments we’ll need to schedule.”
I take the folder with trembling hands, staring at the wordsYour Pregnancy Journeyprinted across the front.
