Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
CIARA
So far, pregnancy sucks, and not just because of morning sickness.
If anything, the constant underlying nausea I’ve been experiencing is a distraction from having to be stuck in the house. Add to that the fact that I’m currently not on speaking terms with my husband, who has no idea I’m carrying his child, and I’m at my breaking point.
I’m due at the hospital for my first appointment with the OBGYN in an hour, and I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to get there.
Sure, I could just come clean to Ronan about the fact I’m pregnant, and it would solve a multitude of problems. But anytime anything out of the ordinary happens, he closes himself off from me, and we’re already not talking, so I have no idea what that would look like.
Besides, if I’m honest with myself, if I tell him, regardless of how he reacts, this will be real. And that scares the hell out of me.
I’ve been up since before dawn, pacing around my room as I try to come to terms with my new reality. But every time I place a hand on my stomach and think of the life growing inside me, my anxiety spikes, and I have to rush to the bathroom to throw up.
I want this baby, more than I care to admit out loud, but that’s what makes it terrifying. The thought of telling Ronan and him not being happy…
I’m not sure what that would mean for us.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I try my best to ignore the fluttering of nerves in my stomach as I think of a way to leave the house without having to talk to Ronan.
He might have tried to extend a hand the other day, but it’s not enough. This is what he always does, and if I keep letting him, keep forgiving him, he’ll never see how much his actions hurt me.
A knock at the door startles me, and I clutch my hand to my throat as I try to take a breath.
“Yeah?” I choke, wondering if it’s Ronan. But then Mila pushes the door open and gives me a small, tired smile.
“Morning.”
I wave her in, and she closes the door behind her before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside me.
She tucks her feet up beneath her. “Are you okay?”
“Not even a little.”
She doesn’t need to ask why. She already knows.
“Have you told him yet?”
I hesitate for a second, then shake my head, ignoring the pang of guilt at the secret I’m keeping.
“I can’t, not yet. I need to make sure everything’s…real, first. I know that sounds stupid, but I’m still wrapping my head around it all. This was not in the contract, and I have no idea how Ronan is going to react to the idea of us having a baby.”
Mila nods, not pushing the subject further. That’s one of the reasons I love her. She knows when to back off and give me space, which is what I need right now.
Well, space from Ronan, that is.
“You know I’ll come with you today, right? You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Thanks.” I rest my head on her shoulder. “But I’m not even sure how I’m going to get out of here. I thought it was bad before, but Ronan’s brought in even more security. There’s no way he’s going to let me leave.”
“Then we lie.”
Mila says it so casually that I blink.
“What?” I lift my head, turning to face her.
“I’ll tell him I have a grief counseling session at the hospital and you’re coming with me for support.”
I stare at her, unsure whether to laugh or hug her.
“That’s actually…brilliant.”
“I know.” She shrugs. “Now let’s just hope he buys it.”
To my complete surprise, Ronan does buy it.
Mila’s explanation is confident and well-rehearsed, and Ronan, though visibly wary at the idea of us leaving the safety of the house, agrees on the condition that Cormac goes with us.
I start to panic that we’ll be found out, but Mila takes it in stride.
We head outside to where Cormac waits in the car. “I figured something like that might happen. Just keep your cool, and I’ll handle the talking.”
I nod, but I’m still sweating by the time we arrive at the hospital.
Cormac gives us a sidelong glance from the front seat, but he doesn’t question us.
He pulls up outside the hospital entrance. “I’ll be waiting in the café. Message me if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”
The second we’re out of the car and walking into the hospital, I grab Mila’s hand as a wave of anxiety hits me as I remember why we’re here.
“It’s going to be all right.” She squeezes my fingers as we head toward the elevators.
I can barely take a full breath as we take the elevator up to the maternity wing.
Mila, on the other hand, is the picture of ease. I’m sure this whole ordeal is providing a welcome distraction from her grief, so I happily let her take the lead. She gets me checked in, and then we’re led down a long corridor and into Dr. Lane’s consulting room.
The hospital room smells like antiseptic, and I find myself fighting the urge to throw up as I lie back in the chair, barely listening to Dr. Lane as she talks me through what to expect from this appointment.
Mila sits quietly beside me, her hand still gripping mine.
I’m overwhelmingly grateful for her presence, but I also can’t ignore the fact that Ronan should be the one sitting beside me.
“Ciara, your blood work confirms that you’re about six to seven weeks along. Your hormone levels are consistent with a healthy early pregnancy.”
I exhale as I rest my free hand on my stomach.
“When will I be able to see the baby?”
“We’ll schedule your first ultrasound in about two weeks to confirm viability and dates. In the meantime, I’ll get you started on some prenatal vitamins and order another round of blood work just to keep an eye on everything.”
This is real. I’m having a baby.
I glance at Mila, and her eyes shine with tears.
“Congratulations.” Dr. Lane offers me a dimpled smile.
For the first time in days, the idea of a baby doesn’t send me spiraling. Instead, it makes me smile.
After the appointment is over, Mila and I head upstairs to the hospital café where Cormac is waiting for us. Not wanting to head back home to my gilded cage just yet, I suggest that we have something to drink, which Cormac begrudgingly agrees to.
I order a hot chocolate, my stomach still too weak for anything heavier, and Mila and I find a small table near the window that looks out over the city below.
Cormac sits at a table nearby, his attention glued to his phone, looking about as bored as you would expect for someone babysitting two women on a fake therapy trip.
Mila stirs sugar into her coffee. “You okay?”
“I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. It’s like I’m excited and terrified all at once. But I can’t help but fear that if I let myself enjoy it too much, something bad will happen.”
“That’s normal.”
“I want this baby, Mila. I really want it.”
“Then that’s all that matters.” Mila offers me a small smile. She still looks exhausted and pale, but somehow, despite everything, she’s finding the strength to support me even when she’s in the throes of grief.
I don’t know what I did to deserve such a friend.
I look down at the steam curling up from my mug and feel the weight of this news settle on my shoulders.
I wrap my hands around my mug to warm them. “I’m just scared of what Ronan will think. Ronan’s already under so much pressure, and things between us… Well, they’re not great right now. What if this pushes him over the edge?”
Mila’s quiet for a second, then she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to tell him today. But don’t wait too long, Ciara. He deserves to know.”
I nod, even though my stomach turns at the thought.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I sneak a glance at Cormac.
He’s still on his phone, but I know if he’s anything like Ronan, he’ll still be completely aware of what is going on around him.
It’s strange. We’re technically family, and yet I barely know the guy.
From what I can gather, he’s extremely private, and I know there has been some tension between him and Kieran that doesn’t seem to be getting better. I thought he would have gone back to the West Coast after his father’s funeral, but it seems he still has some unfinished business in the city.
“Ciara? Did you hear what I said?”
I blink, peeling my attention away from Ronan’s brother to focus on Mila.
“Huh?”
“You were lost for a second. What were you thinking about?”
“Oh…nothing.”
I take a sip of my hot chocolate, sighing at the rich, creamy taste.
Over the past few days, I’ve been going back and forth between being so nauseous I can barely eat a slice of plain toast to stuffing my face with everything in sight, because I’ve been so hungry only to feel sick and throw up anyway.
But for some reason, the hot chocolate is both settling to my stomach and satisfying my hunger.
“You sure?”
“If I drink nothing but hot chocolate for nine months, do you think this baby will come out looking like a marshmallow?”
Mila looks at me as if I’ve finally lost my mind, so I decide to shift the conversation away from myself and back to her.
I sneak another look at Cormac just to make sure he’s not paying us any attention. “So, the excuse you gave Ronan about the grief counseling… Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”
Mila’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe you should actually talk to someone about Max.”
She stiffens, her eyes suddenly glassy with tears. “I’m fine.”
I give her a knowing look. “You’re anything but fine, Mila, and that’s okay.”
She opens her mouth to argue but then closes it again. Her lower lip trembles slightly, and I see the crack in her exterior seconds before the dam finally breaks. Tears start to fill her eyes, and she covers her mouth with one hand to muffle a sob.
“I don’t know how to do this without him.”
My chest aches with grief. “I know.”
“I wake up every day thinking he’s going to call, and then I remember he’s gone and that I’ll never hear his voice again. The pain is so overwhelming it feels like I can’t breathe—”
Mila sucks in a breath as she tries to keep a lid on her emotions.
I reach across the table and take her hand, trying to offer her any comfort I can. “You’re allowed to grieve, Mila. You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”
“I thought I could pretend it wasn’t real, but it is. He’s really gone, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
I know there’s nothing I can say to fix it, so I just sit quietly while she cries.
After a while, Mila wipes her face with a napkin and lets out a shaky laugh.
“God, I didn’t mean to turn this into a scene.”
“It’s not a scene. It’s real, and you're allowed to cry.”
She nods slowly. “Maybe I will talk to someone… I guess it can’t hurt to try.”
“It won’t always feel like this. I’m not saying you’ll get over the loss, but you will find a new normal.”
She looks at me, and for the first time in days, a flicker of something like hope lights in her eyes.
“Thanks. For letting me fall apart for a minute.”
“Anytime.”
I know all too well that grief isn’t a wound that scabs over. It’s something that becomes part of you. But over time, you learn to live with it until it’s nothing but a dull ache in the back of your mind.
Mila isn’t there right now, but at some time in the future, this pain will be nothing but a distant memory. Until then, I’m going to make sure I’m by her side every step of the way as she learns to live in a world where Max no longer exists.