Page 230 of The Professor's Wife

The wind carried the scent of the ocean, reminding me of our harborfront days in the past. Of Rowe and me taking the ferry to the neighboring island to walk the trails and catch glimpses of deer.

I smiled at the image in my head as I walked down the steps and began my journey into town.

The walk was downhill. It would be a treacherous climb back, but I didn’t care.

I wore a breezy red summer dress. My hair was down and moving around me. My purse was slung over my shoulder.

I felt overdressed as I passed people in simple shorts and T-shirts. Out of my element, I was shaky. Being alone outside had become a foreign experience.

Still, I couldn’t deny how wonderful it felt to breathe without fearing the shadow constantly hovering over me. Even if this was all the freedom I got, I thought I could live on it for a while. The sun on my skin. The noise of strangers around me. The simple act of moving among them as though I belonged there, as though I were still one small part of the world turning.

It was almost nothing, and I knew I would have taken less.

I found the clinic easily and stepped inside to see how busy it was.

A lot of people were waiting.

The receptionist took my health card and asked why I needed to see a doctor.

“I think I’m pregnant,” I said.

“You’re hoping to speak with someone about a blood test?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Have you taken a home pregnancy test?”

“My husband wants the blood test.”

She gave me a strange look. “Is that whatyouwant?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“We’re extremely busy today. The wait is going to be a while.”

I perked up. “How long?”

“At least two hours. Possibly more.”

I grinned, elated. “That’s all right. Am I able to leave and come back?”

She raised a brow at my cheerfulness.

“Usually, we advise patients not to leave. You can stay nearby, but if your name is called and you aren’t here, we’ll have to move on. It could put you at the back of the line.”

“I’ll be back before then. Thank you.”

She had begun to respond, but I was already out the door.

I walked quickly down the street, knowing exactly where I was headed.

The restaurant sat along the harborfront, its patio extending over the water on massive wooden pilings. It was the same patio where I had stepped outside to breathe the night before.

Seeing it in the daytime was different. At night, it had felt intimate and private. In the heat of the day, it was louder and more relaxed.

When I stepped inside, I was floored by how busy it was. Servers raced back and forth with plates in their hands. The air buzzed with conversation and laughter.

I hadn’t eaten, and the smell of fish and chips reminded me of it, but there was a rock in my stomach.