Page 93 of Finding Peace
Lawson straightens.
Lincoln blinks.
And I feel like the room is spinning around me.
“Did—did you just—” Beau starts.
“P-pregnant?” Lawson finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. “Abigail’s… pregnant?”
“Holy shit,” I mutter.
The doctor’s expression shifts immediately. “Oh. I—I’m assuming you weren’t aware?”
None of us answers.
I don’t think any of us can.
He clears his throat awkwardly. “Her BhCG levels are consistent with approximately ten weeks gestation. We’ll have to do an ultrasound to be sure, but based on the hormone markers, she appears to be right around that mark.”
Ten weeks.
I quickly do the math in my head.
Christmas.
The doctor hesitates, then asks the question like he’s stepping onto thin ice. “And which—which one of you is the father?”
The four of us look at each other in shock and disbelief.
Law opens his mouth to answer, and then Abigail stirs.
Every thought in my head disappears as her eyes flutter open slowly, unfocused at first. “Abbie Girl,” I breathe.
We all move at once.
Lincoln brushes her hair back from her forehead, carefully avoiding the bruise. Beau grips the side rail like he needs something solid to hold onto. Lawson leans in close, protective instincts at an all time high.
“Hey,” I murmur, squeezing her hand. “Been waiting for you to wake up, pretty girl.”
Her gaze shifts between us, confusion giving way to awareness.
“Hospital?” she rasps.
“Yeah,” Lincoln says softly. “You took a bit of a fall.”
She frowns faintly. “K-Keller…”
“We will handle him later,” Lawson assures her quickly.
Her hand instinctively drifts to her stomach.
The movement is small.
But we all see it.
Emotion flickers across her face before the doctor clears his throat. “I’ll give you a moment,” he says before he practically runs out of the room.
“I was going to take a test tomorrow,” she whispers. “I only put two and two together when I felt sick at the party.”
