“Because I am considered high risk.”
“What does that mean?”
“Can we go?” she asked, looking out the window.
“Not until you explain. Why are you high risk? What happened last time?”
Morgan swiped at a tear and blew out a breath. “I don’t want to do this in the car.”
“Then give me the short version and you can expand on it later.”
“I had an ectopic pregnancy.”
“What is that?”
“It means the baby attached inside the fallopian tube, instead of the uterus where it belongs.”
“Do they know why?” I asked, still not understanding why she would be high risk now. We saw the baby; he was right where he needed to be.
Morgan shrugged. “There is no answer as to why it happens. It could be that conception happens too early, the embryo movestoo slowly through the tube, or gets stuck behind scar tissue, or a malformation in the tube.”
“How did they find it last time?”
“They didn’t. Not until King found me.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Morgan
Seven years ago...
I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t eat; I couldn’t sleep. I missed him so much. He’d only been gone four days, but it already felt like forever. Knowing he was never coming back, and he’d never meet his son.
I placed my hand on my belly. I was barely nine weeks pregnant. I’d found out the day of the explosion that we were having a boy. We had chosen to do an at-home gender test as soon as we found out I was pregnant. Jude and King were off on a run the day the results were delivered.
He never came home.
I sat on the couch in the apartment we shared and cried. Every day had been the same. King stopped by in the evening to make sure I was eating something. As I looked at the clock, I realized it was almost time.
I hadn’t been feeling well today; the morning sickness had finally kicked in. Along with dizziness and some lower abdominal pain. All the books said it was normal. Ligament pain, they called it—from my uterus growing.
I stood up to wash my face; I didn’t want to see the pity on King’s face when he knocked on the door. The world tilted again, and I caught myself on the arm of the couch. I’d never survive seven more months of this.
Once the room stopped spinning, I made my way down the hall, holding the wall for stability. I washed my face and had just made it back to the kitchen when the earth shifted and the world went black.
I woke up in the hospital, the rhythmic sound of beeping playing in the background. I looked around the room and my eyes landed on King.
“What happened?”
He moved closer and took my hand. “I came to check on you and found you unconscious.” His eyes dropped to our clasped hands. “You were bleeding, Morgan.”
My hand went to my stomach, and I knew without being told that my baby was gone. The last little piece of Jude I had was stolen from me.
The door opened, and the doctor walked in. He didn’t look up from the chart in his hand. “Mrs. Peterson?”
“Yes,” my voice rasped.
Hearing his name broke me as tears slipped down my cheeks.