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Once she was sure she wouldn’t be sick anymore, she turned to look at her friend through the sting of fresh tears. “It’s not okay. What am I going to do?”
“You do have options… you know that, right?”
Confused, she looked at Meka and waited for her to continue.
“You have a right to choose what to do with your body. This may feel like the end of the world, but I promise you, it isn’t. I’ll be here for you no matter what you decide.”
Samantha wasn’t expecting that to be what Meka was getting at. She had tried so hard for a baby and been devastated with each negative test. And she knew how Bryce felt about having children. Sure, she had a right to choose, but it wasn’t that simple.
“Bryce would be devastated,” she breathed. “I couldn’t do that to him.”
“If he loves you, he’ll respect your choice, even if it’s a difficult one.”
Bryce was finishing up some work on his computer when he heard the bells on the door of the trailer jingle. Assuming it was one of the guys finishing his day early, he didn’t bother looking up. He had been distracted all day and needed to finish up what he was doing. Samantha hadn’t called or responded to his text messages asking how the ultrasound went. He was terrified that there was no baby. If that was the case, it was no wonder he hadn’t heard from her. She would be devastated, and dealing with it without him.
“Hey,” he heard a soft voice from a few feet away.
He looked up to see Samantha watching him, her eyes weary and red-rimmed. She seemed to crumble under his gaze, and he stood, his blood running cold with fear. She shouldn’t be there. A glance at his phone told him she should have been at rehearsal.
“What’s wrong?”
The words had barely left his mouth when her lip began to tremble, and tears ran down her face. Sobs wracked her body and she held on to his desk. On instinct, he stood and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. She was shaking so violently, that he was worried she would never stop.
“Sweetheart? What is it? Is it the baby?”
At the word baby, she began to cry harder. They were alone for the time being, but he didn’t want anyone walking in, interrupting the conversation they clearly needed to have. Using one hand, he closed his laptop and picked his keys up from his desk.
“Let’s get you to the house so we can talk. My truck is right out front.”
She didn’t respond to his suggestion, but she followed him to his truck where he helped her inside. She spent the short ride silently crying beside him. He hated not knowing what was wrong. Hated not being able to comfort her as he paid attention to the road.
Once they got to the house, he opened her door and helped her out before leading the way inside. She hadn’t spoken more than one word since arriving at his job site unannounced.
“Sam?” he asked hesitantly, once they were inside. “What is it? Please talk to me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, the tears resuming their steady path down her face.
She looked terrible. Her normally rich brown complexion was washed out and pale. Her eyes were bloodshot and lined with dark circles. Somehow, she looked as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. Whatever pain and worries she was being bogged down with, he wanted to take away from her.
“Why are you sorry? What happened?” He directed her to sit on the couch before taking a seat next to her.
She choked back a sob before taking several slow breaths. He knew she was doing her best to pull herself together, but it didn’t seem to be helping. The tears still flowed freely, and she was nearly hyperventilating.
“The ultrasound said I’m nine weeks along,” she managed between sobs.
“Okay?”
“I didn’t know you nine weeks ago!” she sobbed. “It hasn’t been nine weeks since that night. Since the community center dance.”
Realization struck him. He fought to maintain a neutral expression as he began to put the pieces together. It might not be his baby. But she said she hadn’t been on good terms with Brandon. Whose baby was it? All sorts of questions raced through his mind.
“I didn’t lie to you, I promise. Our marriage was terrible. We hadn’t been on good terms for some time before he died. I didn’t just say that because I was interested in you,” Samantha explained.
“Okay. So, the ultrasound is wrong? Why are you so upset?” he asked calmly. “It’s not a miracle child, no matter what their equipment said.”
Samantha studied him in silence. She said nothing. It didn’t take a genius to know there was more to this story. There was something she wasn’t telling him. He felt like an ass before he even asked the question, but for some reason, that feeling didn’t stop him.
“So, whose baby do you think it is? What aren’t you telling me?”
