441 Quiet Hopes and Hidden Plans
(Winona)
I type out the message carefully, pausing after each sentence to make sure I haven't missed anything. This appointment has to be airtight in terms of confidentiality-no chance of anyone finding out what it's really about.
W: Hi, I'd like to confirm an ultrasound appointment. Discretion is critical. Can you ensure my records are sealed and only accessible to me and the attending physician?
The response comes quickly, and I feel a flicker of relief.
Clinic: Of course, Mrs. Brennan. Your privacy is our utmost priority. We have a slot available tomorrow at 10 a.m. Will that work for you?
W: Perfect. Thank you.
I sit back and stare at the phone, the screen glowing in the soft afternoon light streaming through the cottage window. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I'll hear the baby's heartbeat. And if everything's okay. If.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.
I type another message, this time to Jayden.
W: Scan is tomorrow. 10am. U think u can pull off the magic plan?
His reply comes a few minutes later, as calm and collected.
J: Already in motion. Don't worry.
I let out a breath, clutching the phone to my chest for a moment. He makes it sound so easy, like coordinating an undercover ultrasound appointment while dodging Judy's watchful eyes is just another day at the office.
I step into the kitchen, where the kids' caretakers are busy cleaning up after lunch. "Just a heads-up," I say casually. "I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. I'll need you all to get the kids' morning routine done before school, please." "Yes, of course. No problem. You okay, Mrs. Brennan?" asks Elise, one of the younger caretakers. She's about my age and has been a godsend during this chaotic time.
I really hope she isn't the one who's been sucked in by Judy.
"I'm fine, but please, don't call me that," I say with a small laugh. "Just Winona is fine. I'm not Mrs. Brennan anymore-well, soon I won't be."
Her brows furrow slightly with concern. "We'll miss you. Are you sure you're okay? Nothing serious at the doctor?"
"Oh, no. Not really" I say, keeping my tone light and casual. "I have a history of endometriosis and PCOS. Stress doesn't help. Been having a lot of pain lately, and I don't want to travel in pain with the kids."
She nods, her face kind but professional. "We'll keep things running here. You just focus on getting yourself sorted."
"Thanks. I should be back by lunch. Afterward, I'll set a firm date for leaving and focus on packing."
I leave the kitchen, the cover story firmly in place, and head outside to the garden. The fresh air is crisp and soothing, carrying the faint scent of flowers and damp earth. This garden has become my sanctuary, my happy place.
I crouch by the rosemary bush,
running my fingers gently over the fragrant leaves. The irony isn't lost. on me-Jayden and I always seem to achieve more and get along better when we're just friends. We started as friends, and I know, no matter what, we'll always be friends
because of the kids.
My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. I don't know what tomorrow's scan will show. I don't know if this baby will make it, if I'll get the chance to hold them, to raise them.
But I have them now. And for as long as I do, I'll give them all the love I have.
The thought of losing this baby-of having to say goodbye before I even get to say hello-sends a pang through me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting the cool air calm me. I can't let fear consume me. Not now.
I pull a few stray weeds from the soil, my hands working automatically while my mind drifts. Tomorrow is a big day. The scan will make everything more real.
Real and scary.
What if Judy finds out? That thought sneaks in again, uninvited, and I shove it away just as quickly. Jayden said he'd handle it, and I have to trust him.
The baby isn't just mine; it's ours. And even though our relationship is a complicated, tangled mess, Jayden deserves to be a part of this. He deserves to hear the heartbeat, to feel the wonder of it all.
And if it goes well, it'll also set the clock ticking on our departure. The thought of leaving Brussels, of uprooting the kids yet again, is daunting. But it's the right move.
I pause, resting my elbows on my
knees, and stare out at the horizon. Leaving feels inevitable, but I can't deny that a part of me doesn't want to go. I've grown to love it here, even with all the challenges and uncertainties. There's a simplicity to this life, a rhythm that feels right.
But it's not sustainable. Not with Judy still in the picture, not with the risks we're facing.
I stand and brush the dirt off my hands, resolving to make the most of the time we have left here. For the kids, for myself, for this baby.
Tomorrow is just another step in the journey. Whatever happens, I'll face it head-on, like I always do.
The garden is quiet, the only sound
the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It's peaceful, but I can't shake the
feeling of being watched, of being on borrowed time. I glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Judy's shadow lurking somewhere.
"Stop it," I whisper to myself. "She's not here. She doesn't know."
But the fear lingers, nibbling at the edges of my thoughts.
I pull out my phone and check the messages again. Jayden's reassurance stares back at me, steady and unwavering.
Don't worry.
Easier said than done.
I take another deep breath and head back inside. There's still so much to do-packing, planning, preparing.
But for now, I'll focus on tomorrow's outcome being good.