I swallowed hard.
“But why didn’t you tell me afterward?”
She looked down.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
She slowly shook her head.
“I was afraid that if something happened to the baby again, I’d lose you twice.”
I closed my eyes.
For two months, I had believed our marriage had ended because we had stopped loving each other.
The truth was that we had both been drowning in grief, each trying to protect the other in completely different ways.
And neither of us had realized how badly we were hurting each other.
“Is the baby okay?” I whispered.
Sophie looked toward the doctor.
He nodded gently.
“Everything we can see today is encouraging. We still need additional monitoring, but the pregnancy is progressing normally.”
I felt my knees weaken.
A baby.
Our baby.
After everything we had lost.
I looked at Sophie.
“Why are you here alone?”
