Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Sunny
Okay, so I might have slept for about twelve hours straight. And I might have woken up in the most unflattering way possible, with drool on my pillow and my hair twisted in a shape I can only describe as “the aftermath of a small tornado.”
But, surprise, I still feel like a zombie who’s been run over by a holiday parade float.
I drag myself out of bed, wrapped in the fuzzy blanket I didn’t even bother to kick off, and squint at the clock. It’s mid-morning, and I can hear Marjorie humming around in the kitchen.
It seems she’s preparing a feast, probably involving some super-healthy, high-energy breakfast that will absolutely make me gag.
When I walk into the kitchen, Marjorie is standing by the counter, making a green smoothie that undoubtedly contains kale, spinach, and all the things I definitely do not want to drink right now.
She doesn’t even glance up from her blender, but the second I step into the room, she gives me the look. The one that means she’s about to tell me I still look like I’m about to keel over any second.
“You look awful,” she announces.
I groan. “I slept for hours, Marj. I feel like I’m being punished for existing.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee that could double as motor oil.
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you push yourself too hard,” she says, still not looking up. “You’re not fine, Sunny. You need to see someone, like, immediately. I know you said you didn’t want to, but you must listen to me now.”
I take a long sip of coffee, trying to ignore the fact that Marjorie is still acting as if I’m one bad step away from needing an IV drip.
“I don’t need a doctor, I need a vacation. Somewhere warm. And far away from this hotel, this gala, and, well, everything.”
She turns to face me, holding out the green smoothie. “I’m not kidding. You look sick. You need to see a doctor, Sunny. I don’t want to be the one to say ‘I told you so’ when you end up in the ER from not taking care of yourself.”
I roll my eyes, but even I can tell I’m not selling it. “I’m not sick, Marj. Just exhausted. I’m fine. Really.”
Marjorie shakes her head. “You’re not fine. You look like a raccoon on a bender. You’re going. And that’s that.”
I open my mouth to make a retort, but she’s already pulling out her phone, and I know exactly where this is heading. She’s going to make an appointment. She’s going to insist I go.
And if I don’t, she’ll guilt-trip me until I agree. It’s like she has a PhD in making me feel like the world is about to end if I don’t do what she says.
She makes the appointment as I watch on, helpless. This may be for the best. At least it’ll get her off my back.
Marjorie hangs up the phone with a satisfied smile. “Okay, we’re all set. Get dressed, Sunny. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
I wince at the thought of getting dressed, because right now, the only thing I want to wear is a blanket burrito. But Marjorie’s already headed for my room before I can mount any protest.
“Fine,” I mutter, dragging myself to my feet. “But if they try to put me in one of those weird paper gowns, I’m suing.”
Marjorie shoots me a look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “If you want to wear that robe to the doctor’s office, be my guest, but I’m pretty sure you’d get more attention than you’re asking for.”
“Attention I don’t need.”
Two hours later, I’m sitting in a small, sterile doctor’s office, trying to focus on the little fish swimming in circles on the screen of a terribly outdated TV. I’d rather be anywhere else.
This room smells of rubbing alcohol and regret.
Marjorie’s sitting across from me, barely holding it together. She’s been staring at her phone, occasionally glancing at me with that “you look like you’re going to faint” look.
And I’m honestly this close to telling her that I’ll faint if she doesn’t stop looking at me like I’m one sneeze away from disaster.
But no, she’s practically hovering, even though we both know I’ve already been poked and prodded enough for one day.
I take a deep breath and try not to freak out. I mean, I’m just here for a checkup, right? Just to make sure I’m not a walking disaster zone.
I’ll get some stupid prescription for vitamins, and everything will be fine. That’s it.
The door creaks open, and in comes Dr. Thompson, clipboard in hand, looking entirely too chipper for the situation. She’s got the usual “I’m here to help” smile plastered on her face.
Not that it makes me feel any better.
“So, Sunny. I’ve got your blood test results at last,” she says in a strangely grave tone. “Everything looks pretty good… except there’s one thing I should probably talk to you about.”
I stare at her. “Uh, what exactly are we talking about?”
She takes a slow breath and sets the clipboard aside, her eyes flicking from me to Marjorie before meeting mine again.
“The test came back… and you’re pregnant, Sunny.”
I freeze—a little too frozen because I don’t even feel like I’m capable of processing the words just thrown at me.
“What?” I croak out, barely recognizing the voice that comes out of me. “Pregnant? No. That’s… there’s no way.”
Dr. Thompson raises a hand to calm me. “I know this might be a bit of a surprise, but I double-checked the results. You’re definitely pregnant.”
My heart does some weird stutter step. Pregnant? But that’s… no, I’m not ready for this. I haven’t even figured out what to do with my life. There’s no way I can take on something this big.
“I… how?” I ask, my voice cracking in a way that I’m hoping no one notices.
Marjorie’s eyes are wide. “Sunny, have you been using protection with…?”
“Marjorie,” I hiss, glancing at her with a mix of disbelief and horror. “You don’t just ask someone that question in front of a doctor! I don’t even know how far along I am…”
“Well, we can do an ultrasound to find out…”
Marjorie agrees on my behalf. “Yes. I definitely think we need this. Especially with you being so sick.”
My head spins. I’ve been utterly consumed by fog. “An… an ultrasound?”
Dr. Thompson raises a hand, gesturing for me to stay calm. “It’s just a precautionary step, Sunny. It’ll give us the clarity we need. Trust me, nothing to worry about. You’ve been feeling off, and we need to make sure everything’s progressing as it should.”
“Right.” I blink, still not quite understanding what’s happening.
I look at Marjorie, her face a mix of shock and concern, and follow the nurse who’s come in to guide us. As I walk down the hallway, my legs might give out from under me.
This isn’t how I thought today would go. I thought I’d get a prescription and be on my way.
But now I’m headed toward an ultrasound, and all I can think of is pregnant. How is that even possible?
The ultrasound room is an unforgiving white, and the chill in the air makes my skin prickle. I try to ignore the scent of antiseptic, but it claws at my senses, suffocating me with its cold, clinical reminder that everything is about to change.
I’m terrified.
The nurse gestures for me to lie down as she explains they’ll do a transvaginal ultrasound since it’s too early for the regular one. My stomach twists. This is not what I pictured.
The chill shocks me, and I flinch. It’s as if every nerve in my body is screaming something is wrong, but I can’t pinpoint what. I close my eyes for a moment, willing myself to breathe. To calm down.
But it’s not working.
I stare at the monitor, my pulse hammering in my ears. My brain is spinning a million miles an hour.
What am I even looking for? A little heartbeat? A small flicker? The moment I’ve been waiting for to prove everything will be fine.
But there’s no guarantee, no comforting voice telling me everything will turn out okay. It’s all up to this machine, this moment.
The seconds drag on, each one stretching into infinity. I don’t know if my body’s shaking from the cold or the terror settling deep in my chest.
And then… flicker.
I freeze, every muscle locking in place. My breath hitches.
Did I just see that?
Before I can even process it, another flicker, the screen pulses again, and this time, it’s unmistakable.
“Okay, Sunny,” the doctor says, her tone unnervingly calm. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
Her voice is a punch to the gut. What are we working with?
I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be seeing. My heart’s hammering so loud I’m convinced it’s going to burst out of my chest.
And then, it happens.
“It’s a little early,” she says slowly, “but there are two distinct sacs here.”
Two.
I blink. Once. Twice. My brain tries to catch up with what I’ve just heard, but the room spins.
“Wait…” My voice cracks, barely a whisper. “Did you just…”
Dr. Thompson’s lips twitch, the barest ghost of a smile. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It looks like you’re having twins, Sunny. And you’re about four weeks along…”
And just like that, the world around me shatters into fragments of disbelief. Twins?
The words echo in my ears, but they don’t make sense. My brain is still stuck on that first flicker on the screen. This can’t be real.
“No way…” I gasp, shaking my head in denial, my chest tightening. “Twins?”
Behind me, I hear Marjorie’s breath catch. I glance at her and see her eyes wide in shock, her hand instinctively gripping the edge of my chair as if holding on to reality.
Her mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.
“Twins?” she finally breathes.
“Yes, twins,” Dr. Thompson confirms, her fingers pointing at the screen where the two sacs are visible, clearly defined, side by side.
The image might as well be from another world, another life. Not mine. Not this life I’ve been desperately trying to piece together.
I can’t tear my eyes away. The screen is showing two tiny, fragile lives, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.
I’m not ready for this. I don’t even know what this means.
Marjorie lets out a strangled gasp behind me. She’s still holding onto the chair, her face pale, her hands trembling as if she’s fighting the overwhelming rush of emotions.
“Twins…” she whispers again, thick with surprise. Then, without warning, she moves closer, placing a hand gently on my arm. “Sunny, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to figure this out.”
Her words are a lifeline I hadn’t realized I needed. Her presence, even in the shock of the moment, is like an anchor pulling me back to reality.
I blink, trying to clear the fog in my brain. “I… I don’t know how…” I falter, too many emotions crashing inside me. “This wasn’t… I didn’t expect this.”
Dr. Thompson’s tone softens as she leans closer, her eyes full of understanding. “I know this is a lot to take in, Sunny. But you’re healthy, and the babies look great. There’s a lot to process, but we’ll be with you every step of the way. You’re not alone.”
I want to scream. I want to run. I want everything to stop spinning and make sense again.
But Marjorie’s hand is still on my arm, her grip firm but reassuring. She’s there. She’s always been there, even when I thought I had to carry everything on my own.
“You’re going to be okay,” she says quietly. “And we’ll figure this out. I promise.”
I try to nod, but my head feels too heavy. Two tiny lives are growing inside me, and I don’t know how to handle it.
But I’m going to have to figure it out. I mean, this isn’t just about me anymore.
I have two lives relying on me. It's up to me to make this right, one way or another.