Morgan: Present Day
It’s been six weeks. Six weeks that I’ve been living as Monroe. Time has passed quickly. Week one, the week we swapped, the two weeks after that where I planned and held her funeral, and three more weeks after that where I put my home on the market and settled in quite nicely as my sister. I’ve had time. Plenty of time to come clean with him. Especially after we buried her. But as time passed on, so did my courage to tell the truth. Jasen is being extra attentive right now. And I’m welcoming it. I need it. There’s a void without my sister. I feel like a piece of me is missing. We baked in the same womb. We were born just minutes apart. And as much as we argued, we loved each other, despite our differences. I can’t get the image of her dead body out of my head. She appears in my dreams. Maybe she’s trying to tell me something.
I could barely keep it together when Jasen and I met with the detective less than an hour ago. He came across something strange and wanted to speak with us about it. When we arrived, he slid the photo of my deceased sister across the table and asked us if we recognized a green emerald ring she was wearing. I have no idea where that ring came from. The detective explained further that the ring belonged to Cooper’s grandmother. That it was a family heirloom. Simone wasn’t even aware of it. How strange. Why would Cooper kill my sister and then leave without taking his grandmother’s ring? A ring that is considered priceless. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the photo. I couldn’t pull myself together seeing her spread out and covered in blood. The detective offered to speak with us another time. He said he understands how hard this is for me. But I had no words to respond. I was staring at the picture of my dead sister, wondering if there was any way I could have saved her. I was just about to answer the detective when I got the call from the doctor. The phone call telling me I’m pregnant. I had suspected I was. I had missed my period, and the classic symptoms were there. So, I found a nearby doctor who was accepting new patients and made an appointment. I told her I had never visited an ob/gyn to avoid her wanting my previous medical history. I left Jasen to speak with the detective while I took the call, and then I sat in the waiting room and nervously bit my nails almost down to the meat. I stand when I see him walking towards me. He smiles when he grabs my hand.
“It’s going to be okay. Let’s go home.”
Jasen types away on his laptop once we get home. He’s been working nonstop since Cooper’s absence. He dissolved Cooper’s share of the business and made sure Simone got all of it. I haven’t been able to help him much since my sister’s death, so he plans to hire someone to help around the office at some point. I snack on a bag of pretzels as he types away. “I’m almost done,” he says with his eyes glued to the screen.
“Take your time. I know…”
I can’t finish the sentence. Because the bile has risen in my throat. My stomach churns, and I bolt to my feet, sprinting to the bathroom. I barely make it before spilling my guts into the toilet. Jasen is right behind me. “Are you alright?”
I can’t answer him. I feel too nauseous to speak. He steps inside the bathroom and pulls my hair away from my face. “Sweetheart, are you sick?”
I flush the toilet and grab a nearby towel to wipe my mouth. I stand and make my way to the sink to brush my teeth. I watch him in the mirror behind me as I rigorously brush. I swish the toothpaste around, removing the taste of vomit. When I spit the toothpaste out, his eyes narrow with concern. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“No.”
He’s stops and turns around. “I know you hate doctors, but I’m worried about you. You hardly ever get sick.”
I grip the edge of the sink tightly when I face him. “Jasen, I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 14
Jasen
I’m speechless. I stand shell-shocked while she waits for me to respond. “Are you going to say something?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I got the call today.”
“How far along are you?”
“I haven’t had my follow-up appointment yet, but I’m guessing around six weeks.”
Worry crosses her face. “Are you upset?”
I shake my head. “No. I… I’m surprised. I didn’t think you wanted kids.”
She smiles. “I guess the universe thought otherwise.”
“I guess so. How about you run a hot bath, and I’ll go get you some ginger tea? It’ll help with the nausea.”
“Good idea. We’ll talk more when you get back?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
My head rests on the steering wheel, and I grip it tightly. I’m sitting in the parking lot of the grocery store, too anxious to drive. My adrenaline is pumping. I’m sweating. I can’t breathe. My mind is spiraling out of control from the news I just received. My wife just told me she’s pregnant. Only that can’t be possible. My mind replays that awful day.
“How long will she need rest?”
The doctor takes her blood pressure again. “About six to eight weeks.”
My leg shakes with nervousness. “And there’s no other way to fix this?”
He reads the numbers on the monitor and removes it from her arm. Once he writes the numbers down, he turns to face me. “I know this isn’t easy, Mr. Baker. But the fibroids could become cancerous if we wait too long. They’re twice the size they were last time, and they’ll keep growing. A hysterectomy is the only way to fix this.”
I grab Monroe’s hand. “Are you sure about this? What about us having a baby?”
She squeezes my hand. “I know you want kids. But I honestly don’t want any, Jasen. And I’m tired of going through this every month. My periods are way too heavy, and the pain is getting worse. I need to do this.”
Disappointment sweeps through me. “Are we all set?” the doctor asks.
“Yes,” Monroe answers.
“Okay. Let’s get you to the operating room. Mr. Baker, we’ll let you know when she’s all done.”
Some small part of me thought she did it on purpose. To make sure that kids weren’t in the cards for us. When we first found out she had fibroids, the doctor said we could try to conceive before we discussed a hysterectomy as an option. This way, we could at least have a baby before it was too late. But she didn’t want that. When they wheeled Monroe out of surgery, I was overcome with sadness. I took her home and cared for her for over a month. The sadness intensified each day. I know the fibroids were out of her control, but I blamed her for it anyway. She knew I wanted kids. And she made sure that didn’t happen. As time dragged on, I got over it. I considered adoption, but I knew she wouldn’t go for it. So, I didn’t bring it up. I came to grips that I would never be a father. I pushed the idea of fatherhood to the back of my mind. Until today. Today, I found out I’m going to be a father. The only difference is it won’t be with my wife.
I return to the house with ginger tea and shortbread cookies. I don’t feel any better than when I left the house. My blood is boiling. I feel like a fool. All this time? How did I not know?