Chapter 36

ANNA

The day dragged on, and by the time night fell, Olivia was finally asleep. Her pain had only intensified as the hours ticked by.

Dr. Jasmine was at a loss, but she was adamant about not stopping the chemo. She acknowledged its harshness, but insisted it was necessary.

A knock at the door stirred James from his sleep.

“Yes?” I responded, keeping my voice low.

Dr. Jasmine appeared, a folder in hand. “It’s been a tough day, I know,” she said, her tone apologetic.

“I’ve figured out why she’s reacting this way,” she continued.

“Really?”

“She’s having a bad reaction to this particular chemo. We’ll switch to a different one and she should improve,” she explained.

“Oh, thank God.” Relief washed over me and I sank back, my head in my hands. “That’s wonderful news. So, no more pain?”

“Well, not like this, no. But there will be pain, Anna. It’s part of the chemo process, it’s harsh. But—”

“But it’s necessary,” I finished for her. “I understand. It was just so hard seeing her suffer like this, so soon. We had just explained to her that she needed to help the chemo warriors fight.

“We didn’t tell her it could hurt this much. We didn’t know. God, I feel like I’ve failed my child.”

“Anna,” she said, moving closer. She took my hand in hers and gently lifted my chin with her other hand.

“Look at me,” she instructed.

“You haven’t failed Olivia. No one could have predicted she’d react to the chemo like this. I didn’t know. But that doesn’t mean we’ve failed. It means we’re figuring it out.”

I shook my head.

“God, you’re so much like Jack,” she observed.

A smile tugged at my lips. I loved hearing that. “I am, aren’t I?”

She nodded. “In so many ways. I can see how much this is affecting you, and I see so much of him in you.”

“Tell me, please?” I asked her.

“Well, for starters, you’re just like him in the mornings—you can’t function without coffee. You freeze up when you’re shocked, just like he did.

“And your eyes. They’re his. Those big brown eyes,” she said, smiling.

“Dad said you didn’t want to have kids with him.”

She sighed. “I did, at first. But after seeing so many tragic stories involving children in my work—I just couldn’t do it,” she confessed.

I could understand her perspective, but shouldn’t she have considered that when she chose her career?

“I’m still trying to figure out why he’s been so distant though. I thought we ended on a somewhat positive note,” she mused.

I quickly looked away, afraid my eyes would give everything away.

“You know why,” she concluded.

I sighed as I turned back to her. “I do, but it’s not my story to tell,” I said.

“I understand. But I wish he’d talk to me about it.”

I shook my head. “He won’t. He just wants to forget about it all.”

“Can’t you give me a hint?” she asked, knowing my dad would never open up.

I shouldn’t—but I would, because I’ve learned that everything needs to be confronted.

“Alright, one hint,” I conceded. “He knows.”

That was all I needed to say. I could see her mind working. I didn’t even have to specify what he knew.

All I said was, “he knows.” It must be some kind of unspoken female communication, because the look in her eyes and the tears welling up told me she knew exactly what I was referring to.

“He knew? How? I never let any of the symptoms show,” she said.

I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

“About the abortion,” she revealed.

Just then, Dad walked in.

“You had an abortion?” His voice was filled with anger and heartbreak.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, turning the question back to me.

“I didn’t tell her, Dad, I swear. She wanted a hint about why you weren’t talking to her, and I just said, ‘he knows.’ I didn’t think this would be the outcome.”

He sighed but gave me a small smile. I could see the pain in his eyes. He’d wanted a child for so long, and she had never told him anything about it.

“Anna was referring to the fact that I knew about your affair with Oliver,” he spat.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, well apparently I deserved even more pain than my wife and my best friend sleeping together. Now I find out you also aborted my child. Do you hate me that much?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “No. No, Jack. No, I love you. I always have. I just—I couldn’t bring a child into a world like this. A world where they might get sick. There’s so much suffering, so many illnesses.”

His eyes widened. “You love me? God, this has to be a joke. You don’t love me, Jas. I don’t know if you ever did.”

“How dare you, Jack? Come on!” she protested.

“Don’t. Just don’t. Did you ever think about telling me about the pregnancy? Or about how you felt about the whole thing?”

She looked away.

“That’s proof enough, Jas. I wasted years in a lonely, one-sided marriage, just to be left heartbroken. It took me years to get over you.

“Then I show up, and you’re in my granddaughter’s room with your lover. And you’re surprised I left? Did you really think I was clueless?”

She just shakes her head.

“Some joke. The love bites, the smeared lipstick, the ‘I’m tired’ excuse when it had been weeks.”

“Honey,” Mom says, entering the room.

Jasmine is crying, caught red-handed. She’s not denying anything, which I respect. Most cheaters are also liars, so there’s probably more to her story.

But I’m not about to dig for that. No way.

“Relax,” she says, planting a kiss on his neck. He instantly calms down.

“I am, I am,” he assures her. “Sorry,” he says to Jasmine.

“Don’t be—I am. You didn’t deserve any of that. I understand now why you were acting that way,” she says, fidgeting with her coat.

Dad nods but looks away. He buries his face in Mom’s neck, seeking solace.

I glance at Jasmine and see a flicker of pain cross her face.

~She really does love him.~

Jasmine turns and starts to exit the room.

“I’m truly sorry, Jack,” she says again. “You never deserved any of this, and I hope you find happiness with the family you always wanted and deserved.

“From now on, I’ll keep things professional. This is the last personal conversation you’ll have to endure with me.”

With that, she exits the room. Dad crumbles to the floor, sobbing. Mom rushes to him, cradling him like he’s her whole world.

I hurry over to them and kneel down to join the family hug. Dad needs this. I reach out to touch his back and try to squeeze myself under his arm so I can hug him. He pulls me into the embrace.

“It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” Mom soothes.

He nods against us. “I know, it just hurts. It’s another child of mine that I didn’t get to raise. I must have done something in a past life to deserve this.”

“You didn’t, Daddy, you’re amazing,” I assure him.

“Listen to your daughter, Jack. Look at her. She’s right here. Who knows what the future holds, maybe we’ll have another baby, or maybe another grandchild.

“Life is full of surprises. Maybe it will even happen sooner than we think,” she says, her voice wavering slightly.

“Mom?” I question. I know exactly where she’s heading with this.

“What?” she asks me. Her eyes plead ~please don’t make a big deal out of this~.

“Are you pregnant?” I ask her.

“I’m not sure,” she admits. Her eyes meet Jack’s.

Joy floods his face. You can see it in his eyes. His whole body radiates happiness and tears. Tears from the heartbreak, and joy from this news. He must be feeling a whirlwind of emotions right now.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” he asks.

“Well, I have symptoms, but isn’t it too early? I mean it’s only been a month. That’s really soon to know, but I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I wasn’t sure I was feeling something.

She turns to me. “But I also know that even the possibility will mean the world to your dad so I was about to tell him about my suspicion,” she says, looking back at him.

A grin spreads across my dad’s face.

“But it could be nothing,” she adds.

He nods and pulls her into a hug. “It’s all good. Either way, I just heard that you want to have another baby,” he says, laughing.

“Of course I do,” she replies.

“God, Bec. I love you so much.” He melts into her arms.

“I love you too, honey,” she says, holding him tight.

I smile, thinking about a second baby myself. Seeing Mom and Dad so happy and close makes me start to daydream—a new baby in the family would be a wonderful distraction, right?

“Wait, Mom, what’s the date?” I ask suddenly.

“It’s February 20th. Why?” she asks.

My eyes widen. “Fuck!” I exclaim.

Dad shakes his head vigorously. “Anna?” he asks, his voice a mix of sternness and fear.

I look from Mom to Dad, doing the math in my head. And all I can conclude is that I’m late. Like really late.

“I’m five days late.”