Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
_______________
Aubrey
Five weeks later
“The tests you took aren’t wrong. You’re pregnant. And from the information you gave us about your last menstrual cycle, I’d say you’re just about twelve weeks along,” Dr. Haze says, studying me closely with a concerned look in his bright blue eyes.
I really didn’t think that five tests could be wrong, but I honestly didn’t think they could be right either. Gabe and I had tried unsuccessfully for three years to get pregnant while he was alive. Each month when I had my period on time, we were both devastated. We talked about seeing a specialist but knew we would have to save in order to do that, since the only specialist in Alaska is in Anchorage and we would have to fly out for any appointments. We were saving, but it was going to be another year or two before we were able to start treatments.
“Aubrey.” His hand wraps around my knee, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry.” I blink to clear his blurry image. “This is….”
“A shock, I’m sure,” he says gently.
I nod, thinking, That’s an understatement. Then I look down and rest my hand over my stomach. Gabe left me with a piece of him. “I’m going to cry,” I whisper.
“That’s understandable.” He hands me some tissue, and I press it to my eyes and cover my face.
I don’t know how long I sit there and cry, but it’s a while before I’m able to regain control of my emotions enough to leave the office. When I arrive home, I tell my family the news. And for the first time in months, I have something to look forward to.
Chapter 1
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Aubrey
CURLED UP ON THE COUCH in the living room with a cup of coffee in my hands and a fire burning in the fireplace, I stare at the dying flames as they flicker and dance, then smile when I hear the sound of tiny feet coming my way. When I see my Lyra come around the corner, rubbing her eyes, my heart melts. My girl looks just like me, from her blonde hair to her blue-green eyes.
“Hey, baby.” I set down my coffee cup and hold out my arms to her. She climbs up onto the couch and settles against me, closing her eyes and resting her head on my chest. I run my fingers through her soft hair, studying the side of her face. The last four years have flown by in a flash. One minute, I was pregnant, and the next, my girl was turning three, and tomorrow, four. I don’t think you realize how quickly time flies until you become a parent and watch your child grow up before your eyes.
“Can I have pancakes for breakfast?” she asks.
“Sorry, baby, no pancakes today. I already made you oatmeal.” I run my fingers down the side of her face then grin when her bottom lip pops out.
“Can I have pancakes tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, you can have anything you want for breakfast, since it’s your birthday,” I say, and she pulls back to look at me.
“I can have cake for breakfast tomorrow?” she tests me hopefully.
I smile. “Let me rephrase that. Tomorrow, you can have any breakfast food you want in the morning.”
“Can I have Denver’s scrambled eggs and your pancakes?”
At her question, my chest feels funny. Denver has been a steady fixture in Lyra life since the day she was born. I really didn’t expect to see him much after Gabe’s death, but he moved back to town not long after I found out I was pregnant, and since then, he’s made it a point to be part of Lyra’s life. And mine—well, as much as I let him.
I wish I could say things between us aren’t awkward, but they are, and over the last four years, that awkwardness has only become worse. At first, things were strained because of our history and Gabe’s passing. Now, things are awkward, because I find Denver seriously attractive but know that there is no future for us.
“Can I?” Lyra’s softly spoken question brings me out of my head and I focus my attention on her.
“Sorry, baby. What was your question?”
“Can I have Denver’s scrambled eggs and your pancakes tomorrow?”
“I don’t know what Denver’s plans are tomorrow morning.”
“Will you ask him?”
“I’ll ask him,” I agree, knowing without question he will agree, since he seems to live for giving Lyra whatever her heart desires.
“Okay,” she grins happily before she rests the side of her head against my chest once more.
I press my lips to the crown of her head and breathe in her scent. I live for these moments—times when she wants to cuddle, times that are just ours. Nowadays, it seems like she’s always going a million miles an hour, trying to suck in as much knowledge as she can. I think she asks “Why?” and “What is that?” a billion times a day.