Her hand shakes where she’s holding the doppler but she repeats the same words, “You’re right. Eight weeks.”
I smile at them both. “And that will be reflected on the sonogram?”
She nods slowly, lifting the doppler and grabbing a towel to hand me to wipe off the extra between my legs. I sit up, waving Sarah in through the door.
“Thank you. You’ve been incredibly helpful. Sarah, please ensure they’re compensated well for their time.”
They both leave without another word, and I know that Sarah will remind them of their oath to uphold doctor-patient confidentiality. I rest my hand on my stomach, a small smile lifting on my lips because the reality is starting to hit. There’s a baby growing in there; I am going to be a mother. Now I just have to ensure they have a home to grow up in, because I’ll be damned before returning to my father.
Jeoffry’s doctor finds me sitting on the couch, and I’m unsure how long I’ve been sitting, lost in my thoughts.
“You called for me, Mrs. Dansworth?”
With a heavy heart, I nod and stand, smoothing out my dress. “I believe it’s time to bring my husband’s misery to an end. I can’t hold on for selfish reasons, for the sake of Henry and me.”
The doctor stands taller, with a somber expression. “I understand. We’ll prepare for end of life care then.”
The medical team begins to withdraw treatment, and they unplug Jeoffry from everything that has been keeping him alive. My husband is dead within the next hour.
Henry keeps his distance throughout the funeral service, and I discreetly shove ginger candy after ginger candy into my mouth. It’s the only thing I can stomach, and while I’m sure most could explain random bouts of throwing up due to emotions, I’m not chancing it.
I even hired a party planner, or as they like to be called “celebration of life event planners,” to ensure that everything is perfect. Between them and Jeoffry’s corporate assistant, everything is as expected for someone of his stature. But after hours of being the grieving widow, I want all of these people out of my fucking house.
I sigh, rubbing at my temples as Sarah brings me a ginger ale inside a champagne glass. “Lifesaver, thank you.”
She nods, leaving me standing near the entrance of the large drawing room as I sip the drink slowly.
A few more people come to speak to me, but I check out mentally, giving them one-word responses until they finally move on to yap at someone else. When my mother died, my dad didn’t allow us to hold a funeral. Only keeping it intimate with my siblings before burying her on the estate. For years, I thoughtit was callous and cruel, but maybe he was on to something, because I want nothing more than for this day to end.
A warm hand wraps around my arm and I startle, looking up at a clean-shaven Henry.
“Are you drunk?” he hisses.
I go to laugh, but a hiccup comes out of me instead, which makes me laugh harder. He watches me in disgust as I try to get a hold of myself, but the irony of the question and the situation has me nearly peeing myself. “N-no,” I stutter out, not even sounding convincing to myself.
Shaking my head, I pull away from him and wipe at my drooling mouth before shoving another ginger candy inside.
“What was that? Drugs?”
I roll my eyes. “Do you think I’d be so uncouth? It’s candy, Henry. I haven’t eaten all day.”
His nose wrinkles. “Have one of the staff make you a sandwich.” I grab his wrists when he goes to wave for someone.
“No, I can’t stomach it at the moment. Why do you even care?”
He jerks his arm away with a narrowed stare. “I don’t, but you’re embarrassing yourself…and my father.”
“And how am I doing that? I’ve been standing here alone,” I say with a sigh.
Henry goes to retort, but we both fall silent when we see someone walking intently toward us.
My eyebrows dip, recognizing the estate lawyer. Something tells me he’s here for more than just paying his respects.
Allen clears his throat before dipping his head toward the study down the hallway. His eyes stray to Henry, and he offers the same gesture. My heart is in my throat as we walk behind the estate lawyer, knowing what’s waiting on the other side.
I hadn’t expected him to come the same day we buried my husband, during a celebration that hasn’t even ended, but I guess money doesn’t stop for anyone.
Instead of moving to sit behind Jeoffry’s desk, he stands before it and rests his briefcase on top. I move to the chair on his right, and Henry sits at my side.
