Page 106 of After We Fall

“Meredith.” I try to swallow down my giggles. “Keep your voice down. If someone comes in, you don’t want them to hear you discussing your honeymoon activities.”

“All I’m saying is that you can use every kind of protection and—” She stops talking and covers her mouth. “Oh my word. I did marry a superhero in real life. If we were careful and I still got pregnant . . .”

“Meredith.” I hold up a hand and laugh.

She sighs. And just as quickly as the classic rambling and humor that is Meredith appeared, the vulnerable, real Meredith takes its place. She’s always about life’s simultaneous beauty and pain. “Remember when Alex was in the hospital and we ended up on the floor of the restroom in California? And then together again in your hospital bathroom? We have a thing about big, mushy moments in bathrooms.”

“It’s where I do my best work.”

Her chuckle is muffled with the mouthful of chocolate. She crunches and swallows. “Did you just make a joke?”

I laugh, making no noise, but my shoulders shake. “Probably not.”

“Hmm.”

I pull the water from the convenience store bag, open it, and hand it to her.

She takes a drink. “I think a funny, handsome security consultant is rubbing off on you.”

Something in my belly warms. Is he influencing me, or is he simply finding the real me? Coaxing the real me to come out and play. Providing the real me a safe place to let loose.

The alarm on my phone sounds, and both of us stiffen, but neither of us moves.

Still staring at the wall, I swallow. “Would you like some privacy?”

“No.” Her whisper is full of fear. She grabs the test off the counter and hunches over it in her lap, her hair creating a curtain around her face. “Oh my gosh.”

My stomach clenches as I wait.

She wraps her arms around her waist and folds over herself in tears, the plastic stick peeking out of the hand closest to me.

Pregnant.

I close my eyes, commanding the tears to stay at bay. Placing a hand on her back, I rub long strokes.

“We were . . . careful,” she sobs. “Wasn’t supposed to . . . how do I . . .” Her words drown in the sobs.

I’m in over my head here. Acutely aware that I don’t have all the pieces to this story, I stay silent, finding it difficult to ignore the fear crawling over me with each passing second. My breathing keeps the pending headache away, proof that my treatments are working. But this isn’t the time to focus on progress of this kind.

Once her tears subside, I say, “Meredith, can you sit up for me?”

She adheres to my request, and her watery eyes bore into mine. “What am I going to do?”

“The next step is the fun part.” I curl a strand of hair around her ear. “You get to tell your husband that you’re going to have a baby.”

“But what about—”

“Meredith, I cannot imagine everything a pregnancy encompasses for you.” This strong woman in front of me is on a first-name basis with loss. Her two small children and husband died tragically before she met Harlan. But with the news of a risky pregnancy, there must be more to her story. “And in addition to the physical stress of the pregnancy, I imagine there are significant issues you are going to have to deal with emotionally.”

A tear streaks down her face.

“The way to work through this is one step at a time. Leave all the heavy stuff for tomorrow. But tonight”—I take her hand—“tonight is the fun part.”

She gulps. “Grief doesn’t get to steal tonight.”

I smile. “You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant,” she whispers, a hint of wonder in her eyes.