Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“I’ll walk you out,” I offer, and Dr. Stone nods with a gentle smile before gathering her things.
As we make our way to the exit, I can’t help but ask, “Are you sure you can help Ren now that you have met River?”
“It will be a long journey, but since Ren is willing to work with me, there is no doubt in my mind I can help in the long run. Just be patient with him. It will take time.”
Time. I wish I had enough, but with being pregnant, I’ve got nine months tops. I need Ren beside me. There is no way I can have this baby on my own.
16
SCARLET
“I’m so glad you decided to come out with me. It’s not that I mind shopping when I’m by myself, but it’s so much more fun to have somebody to talk to and ask for opinions.”
Aspen smiles at me from over the top of a rack of baby clothes. They are adorable, so cute I could cry. Little dresses, little pairs of overalls. The tiniest shoes. My fingers itch with the need to touch everything, to hold it.
To put it in a cart so I can buy it for my baby.
Impossible. I can’t even afford to think about it as we move from rack to rack in the cute little store. The mood here is bright and cheerful, and it’s infectious. I’m able to smile happily through the jealousy that exists on the edges of my awareness.
I want to be able to do this for myself. I want to be happy about being pregnant. I want to feel hopeful, the way Aspen does. Instead, I carry the secret inside me, knowing it would be a very bad idea to announce it now. At this rate, I don’t know when would be a good time to tell everybody. I haven’t even gotten up the nerve to tell Ren, mostly because I’m still never sure if River is going to pop out. I don’t feel like trying to share a personal moment with somebody who hates me just for existing.
And forget telling my family. I don’t even want to think about the horror show that would turn into. Dad would never let me out of my room again. Quinton would never stop bitching and making threats against somebody he was supposed to love like a brother. There’s a tiny part of me that wonders if something like a baby would eventually unite us, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I can’t afford to believe in the impossible.
“How do you feel?” I’m genuinely curious, and not only because she’s my sister-in-law, and she’s carrying my little niece or nephew. I sort of want to know what to expect once the months start to pass.
Her eyes cut to the side, where one of the guard’s Q insisted on sending with us stands only ten feet away, his back to the front door. There’s another guard at the rear exit, as well. Can’t be too careful.
She tips her head to the side, and I follow the direction until we are a little further away from any third parties who don’t need to hear the details. “Honestly, I feel terrible. I’m tired all the time, and I’m starting to get really big. I might have to get shoes I don’t have to tie, since it’s getting harder to reach my feet. I’m dreading having to get up at night and pee all the time, too. That should start happening soon.”
But even as she says it, it’s obvious she’s thrilled out of her mind. She went through a lot before this pregnancy came along—she and Q both did. They deserve their happiness.
So why does my heart hurt so bad? Why don’t I get to have that same happiness? I want to tear through the store and make up a registry like a woman is doing right now, wandering around with her husband or boyfriend or whoever, aiming her little scanner gun at one thing after another while they glow with joy. I hate them.
“Hey. Are you okay?” Aspen touches a hand to my back, leaning in like she’s concerned. “I’m sorry. With everything you’re going through, you don’t need to hear about my—”
“No, no. Don’t even think that,” I insist. “I am not going to be one of those people who won’t let anybody be happy around them. And Ren is going to get better. It’ll be okay.”
So why did my voice break just then? Why does it sound so much like I’m going to cry? Hormones, I guess.
“You know, it’s all right for you to not be okay,” she whispers while her hand moves in circles over my back. “Nobody’s going to judge you. You’ve been so strong. Sometimes, you have to take it easy on yourself and not expect so much after you’ve been through something difficult.”