The thought sits heavy in my chest, expanding until it’s hard to breathe.
I think about the baby showers I’ve attended, the perfect Instagram posts, the glowing pregnant women who make it all look so easy and joyful.
But Karissa told me the truth behind the curtain. And it’s terrifying.
My phone buzzes on the cushion beside me. It’s Mason, telling me he’s on his way home, and that he loves me.
When he walks through the door thirty minutes later, he finds me exactly where I’ve been since I got home.
“Hey,” he says softly, flipping the light on. “Why you sitting in the dark?” He laughs.
“I don’t know.” I laugh too, but it’s not as sure as his.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
He studies me for a second, then crosses the room and sits beside me. “You sure?”
I take a breath. “I went to see Karissa today.”
“Yeah? How’s she doing?”
“She got on medication, waiting to see if it helps.” I pick at a thread on the couch cushion. “But she said something that’s been stuck in my head.”
Mason shifts, turning toward me. “What’d she say?”
I tell him everything, as much as I can remember of her exact words, that is. It was a lot.
“Meg—” he tries to cut in.
“And I keep thinking,” I interrupt, my voice wavering, “what if that’s me? What if I finally get pregnant and I end up just like her? Struggling. Drowning. Resenting the thing I wanted so badly?”
“You won’t,” Mason says firmly.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know but—” He reaches for my hand, squeezing it.
“But what if it is?” I look at him, eyes burning.
“Then we’ll get you help,” he says simply. “Just like Cody got Karissa help. We’ll figure it out together.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know if I could do it, Mason. I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”
“You are,” he insists, his voice gentle but certain. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I close my eyes, breathing him in—the familiar smell of his cologne still faintly clinging to his body.
We sit like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between us.
“I don’t care if it’s nothing like we imagined. If God gives us a baby, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
My throat tightens. “Even if I’m a mess?”
“Especially if you’re a mess.” He brushes a tear from my cheek. “Because you’remymess. And I’m here to take care of you.”
I let out a shaky laugh, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Chapter 23
