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Emotions she had spent two months trying to contain and stifle were rioting through her. For the first time in her life, she was completely unable to ignore what she did not want to face.
Okay, maybe for the second.
Her grief over Maks’s rejection had been so consuming, Gillian had no chance at ignoring it, either. Each day was a new reminder how much she’d loved, how much she’d lost and how much she missed the jerk.
But she’d worked toward some semblance of peace. She could almost sleep through the night without waking from a nightmare into the one of loss.
Pain at Maks’s rejection had simply become such a part of her, she hardly noticed it anymore.
Or so she told herself.
It was the hope she couldn’t stand. The need to feel anything at all, but most of all love for another human being, even a very tiny one.
Because unlike her parents, Gillian didn’t care how her pregnancy had come to be. Planned or unplanned. With someone she wanted to share a life, or alone. None of it mattered.
She would love her child, already did, from the moment her doctor had uttered those impossible words, even before Gillian had been sure.
She had insisted they do the test again. Her doctor’s PA had drawn Gillian’s blood, but then she’d gone one step further while they waited for the in-office lab to run the results of the second test. She’d brought out a small device called a Doppler. A mini-ultrasound, the PA used the Doppler to find the baby’s heartbeat.
Gillian had cried and nearly fainted when she heard the fast paced swoosh-swoosh-swoosh through the handheld device. There could be no denying another being was growing inside her womb. Her baby.
Maks’s baby.
Unsurprisingly, at that point, the second test had come back just as conclusively positive as the first.
Gillian’s pregnancy appeared perfectly viable, though her doctor wasn’t particularly pleased about the fact she’d lost enough weight to hollow her cheeks. She’d been quick to assure Gillian this wasn’t as uncommon as people might believe, however.
Many women lost weight in their first trimester.
Even so, miscarriage rates were higher than Gillian had ever expected. According to her doctor’s PA, one in five pregnancies ended in miscarriage.
Wasn’t that horrifically high for a country with such advanced medical knowledge and care?
Despite the early summer sun beating down, Gillian’s hands were cold and clammy.
Pregnant. Her.
Part of her mind vaguely realized she was in shock. She probably should have stayed in the exam cubicle, but Gillian had needed to get out into the fresh air.
So, she’d told the doctor she was fine and the woman was busy enough to let her leave without pushing further.
Gillian shook her head, everything about the last hour incomprehensible.
She’d made an appointment to see her doctor at Nana’s insistence. Gillian hadn’t been all that concerned. She’d fought a serious case of depression since kicking Maks out of her apartment nine weeks before.
She loved him and saying the words had only made that knowledge more awful to bear when she’d realized there was no way he returned the feelings.
She’d thought she had a really persistent flu for the last few weeks, and frankly hadn’t much cared. If her grandparents hadn’t come into town for a visit, Gillian might well not have realized she was pregnant until she started showing.
But Nana had been very upset when she’d gotten Gillian to admit she had felt lethargic and nauseated for weeks. Though she’d only thrown up a few times.
According to Gillian’s doctor, she was lucky in that. The woman had also evinced surprise at Gillian not realizing there was even a possibility she was pregnant.
After all, she hadn’t had a period in three months, but then Gillian’s cycle had never been regular. Skipping a month was not unusual.
Compromised fallopian tubes, but they weren’t compromised enough. Not only had Gillian managed to fall pregnant the one and only time she’d ever made love without a condom, but she’d been in the wrong part of her cycle for it to happen, too.
It was a miracle really.
She wondered if Maks would see the baby growing inside her that way? Most likely not. He’d walked away from her much too easily to be pleased when she popped up before him, carrying his child.
Would he even believe her that the baby was his? She wasn’t risking miscarriage doing an amniocentesis for the DNA test.
No way was she.
If he had doubts about his fatherhood, he could wait until after the birth to assuage them.
As much as they would undoubtedly love the baby when it was born, Gillian’s pregnancy wasn’t going to make her grandparents happy. They firmly believed sex and pregnancy belonged within the bounds of marriage.
It only took a second to consider before she knew hiding her condition from them for the few days they were supposed to be in Seattle would be the best course of action.
There was a twenty percent chance this pregnancy wouldn’t make it past the first trimester. Gillian wasn’t telling anyone about it until she’d made it past that important time marker.
Which meant she’d better turn in an Academy Award nominee worthy performance of a woman feeling one hundred percent better. Or her grandparents wouldn’t be leaving town and heading for Canada the middle of next week as planned.
She would tell them her doctor said she was a little run down and needed to take better vitamins. It was the truth, if not the whole truth. Gillian’s GP had prescribed gummy prenatal vitamins, which were supposed to be easier on her sensitive stomach, and folic acid for improved fetal development.
She’d also suggested an iron supplement because Gillian’s levels were on the low end. That, at least, was a better explanation of her fatigue than the one she’d come up with on her own.
Missing Maks was exhausting.
Her grandparents would have no trouble accepting that Gillian wasn’t feeling completely up to par in general. They believed the breakup had taken its toll on Gillian’s health and hadn’t hesitated to say so. Gillian had reminded them that most women had their heart broken at least once by the time they were her age.
Many had even been married and divorced by the age of twenty-six.
Nana had harrumphed and commented several times that she thought, “That young man had a lot to answer for.”
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