Kiara
"How are you feeling today, Ms. Black?" My OBGYN, Dr. Meadows, asks in a kind, sympathetic tone as she steps into the exam room, her eyes scanning my weary face.
"Like complete shit," I confess bluntly. "Even with the Zofran, I can barely keep food down. I feel weak and exhausted all the time, and my breasts hurt so much, it feels like they're on fire."

Taking a deep, frustrated breath, I continue, my voice trembling with emotion, "We just buried my fiancé's mom a month ago, and he's barely eating and sleeping a lot when he's not at work, so I'm trying to be there for him while also hiding the fact that I'm pregnant by pretending I have some kind of virus. Of course, he's worried about me and I want to tell him the truth, but how the hell can he possibly be happy about a baby when he just watched his mom die right in front of him?"
By the time I finish talking, the words sound strangled in my throat as tears relentlessly stream down my face. The image of seeing Maggie's casket being lowered into the ground flashes in my mind, and I cry harder, the grief I've tried so hard to repress resurfacing like a tidal wave crashing over me.
After my mini breakdown episode, Dr. Meadows passes me a handful of tissues. "Thank you so much," I sniffle, sincerity lacing my voice as I attempt to regain my composure.
Dr. Meadows nods understandably. "It sounds like you're going through a lot," she says gently. "But you're not alone in this, and your partner sounds very supportive. Together, we will help you through this."
I feel so fucking miserable. Thoughts of ending this pregnancy has crossed my mind several times. But how could I be so selfish? I've grown to accept that I'm going to be a mom, but this is so much harder than I thought it would be.
"Are you ready to start the at-home IV treatments?" Dr. Meadows asks. "You've lost five pounds, I'm very concerned at this point because that means you and the baby are not receiving the nutrients you need."

I place a hand to my stomach, feeling a surge of guilt. I'm failing already. How am I even going to be a good mom when I can't even take care of my baby properly while it's still inside me? More tears rush to my eyes, but I quickly blink them away, determined to stay strong for the life growing inside of me. "Anything that is going to keep the baby healthy," I say, my voice trembling but filled with resolve.
She smiles warmly. "Good, I will set that up. Let's get you in for an ultrasound and see how your baby is doing. Then, we can get some pictures to show Dad when you're ready."
Just like the first time, I'm led into the ultrasound room, but this time, thankfully, the baby is big enough that they can do an external one. It only takes Dr. Meadows two seconds to find the heartbeat using the little wand thing. "There's your baby's heartbeat!" she exclaims.
Tears spring to my eyes at the sound of the fast rhythmic beating on the screen. I wish Trey could be here to share this bittersweet moment, to hear our baby's heartbeat for himself. But he's at work right now, likely doing anything to numb his pain.

I cry silently as I watch our baby wiggle on the screen, Dr. Meadows skillfully moving the wand to capture images of him/her amidst the lively movement. "Stay still for a second, little one," she murmurs with a chuckle, her voice carrying a warmth that momentarily eases my heartache.
Despite the lingering tears, I can't help but laugh along. In this moment, I can almost picture Trey's proud expression, his eyes lighting up at the sight of our energetic baby.
You know...if his mom didn't die.
But today, I swear that no matter what, even though it feels me with absolute dread, I will tell him about our baby.
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"When are you going to tell him?" Candice's voice comes through the speakerphone, filled with excitement. "You know how hard it has been to keep a secret this long? I've already bought some cute, little booties for my niece or nephew."
I roll my eyes playfully. "I told you I don't want my baby to be bougie."
"I promise I shopped at a local baby store."
"Okay, fine. Show them to me."
She holds up a tiny pair of cream-colored booties in the camera. "Oh my gosh, those are so fucking cute!" I can't help but squeal. The thought of my baby wearing those in just eight months from now fills my heart with a profound sense of joy.
I can do this.
I have the support. I know at least I have Candice and Trey. Strangely, maybe even William. He's become a constant presence since Maggie died, stopping by almost everyday to check on us, and of course gets a free homemade meal. As for my parents, I'm not sure how they'll react parents will react, but I'll tell them after I tell Trey.
"Thanks Candy, I really needed that. Wish me luck, I'm going to tell him today."
"You don't need luck. I know Trey's been a bit busy, we've all struggled to push through all this grief, but I know he's going to be excited as fuck. He loves your ass so much, he'd probably drink your bathwater if you'd let him," she says with a playful grimace.
"Eww, okay bye weirdo," I laugh as I end the video call.
Although I still have some trust issues, Candy has been a way better friend in the last month than she has in five years. Therapy really seems to be helping, and it's nice to have her back in my life.
When I walk into the penthouse, Trey is in the middle of the living room, doing pushups. He stops and slowly rises to his feet, wiping the sweat off his bare chest with a towel. My heart skips a beat as he walks over to me, his muscles glistening with each step, and envelops me in his arms.
He seems to be in a good mood today. For the past month his eyes have been filled with sadness, and he's been so exhausted when he comes home from the restaurant that he just showers and tries to climb into bed without eating. Seeing the way he looks now fills me with hope that this will go well.
"Hey Cupcake, how did your doctor's appointment go?" he inquires, pulling back to look at my face.
I force a smile, although it feels more like a grimace. "The doctor is going to start me on some IV treatments a few times a week, so don't get worried when you see them in here, okay?"
Okay, maybe I should've spit it out right then.
His expression clouds with concern, his eyes searching mine for answers. "What's really going on? Do you have cancer or something and you're afraid to tell me? I know I've been struggling with my mom's death, but if it's something that fucking serious, I need to know right now."
I chew on my lip, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. He deserves to finally know, I want him to know. When he talked about having a family before, our lives were nowhere as complicated as they are now.
But he needs to know.
I try to speak, but the words are trapped in my throat. So, I silently reach into my purse and retrieve the black and white images of our baby. My hand trembles slightly as I pass them to him. His brows furrow in confusion as he looks takes it, his gaze flickering between them and my face. "Holy shit...is this-"
"Our baby," I answer softly, the words coming out as a whisper. My heart is pounding in my chest as I anticipate his reaction, the air between us hanging heavily.
Tears brim in his eyes as he looks back down at the picture in his hand. "This is our baby," he repeats in a whisper, awe coloring his voice.
Feeling a sudden wave of nausea, my hand flies to cover my mouth as I rush to sit down on the couch. He immediately kneels beside me on the carpet and takes my hands in his. "How far along are you, and how long have you known?" he asks, his hazel eyes searching mine.
Although he may be angered by the response, I tell him anyway, "Eleven weeks, and since the day of Maggie's accident."
Hurt flashes in his eyes. "Why did you wait so long to tell me? I thought all this time you caught some incurable disease or something, but you've just been growing our baby."
"I was about to tell you, but then Candice called, and then I just haven't found the right moment to tell you until now," I answer softly, my voice tinged with regret. "I hope you're not angry with me."
He laughs incredulously. "Angry? Never. I'm just a little upset you've been suffering all this time while we've both been grieving my mom. I feel like a complete dumbass for not suspecting it after all this time."
I caress the side of his face. "Don't blame yourself," I try to reassure him. "It's not like I'm showing or anything yet. I'm just in that unlucky 1% of pregnant women that will most likely be violently ill my entire pregnancy."
"I'm here for you, I'll make sure you're taken care of, my Cupcake," he promises, hi voice filled with love and determination. "Now, you'll be having two damn bodyguards with you wherever you go. I'm going to make sure you and my baby are safe at all times."
I laugh, wiping away the tears I didn't even feel coming. "You think that's necessary?"
"Fuck yeah," he responds in a stern tone. "The world is already a dangerous place, and you're practically famous now."
"Okay, anything to put your mind at ease," I concede with a soft smile.
The weight has finally been lifted off my chest now that I told him, and it feels so fucking good.
"Have you told your parents yet?" he inquires, sitting down beside me and pulling me into his lap. I lean back, resting my head against his sweaty chest. The nausea eases sightly, but just in case, I'm ready to bolt to the bathroom if I need to.
"No, only Candice knew."
I watch him playfully rolls his eyes. "Of course she did," his lips curving up into a half-smile. "I'm surprised she didn't explode by now, she's never been good at keeping secrets."
"I'm sure she's close. I think she'll be relieved that you're not mad about it," I reply, laughing.
He gazes intently at me. "How could I possibly be upset at either of you when I've been hiding a secret of my own?"