A Sudden Fear
Vincent didn’t come home last night.
I told myself not to overthink it. He had kept me updated, sending texts and even pictures—shots of him at the office, papers sprawled across the desk, a half-empty coffee cup beside him. Biggest client yet, baby. If I win this case, the firm stays on top. I’ll be home soon.
I trusted him. I had to trust him.
But as I stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair and adjusting my blouse for work, a sharp twinge struck my lower abdomen. My breath hitched, and when I stepped back, my eyes landed on the faint stain on my nightgown.
Blood.
A chill ran through me.
I yanked the fabric higher, my hands trembling as I checked again. It wasn’t a lot—just light spotting—but my gut twisted in panic.
Not now. Not after everything.
I grabbed my phone, dialing Vincent without a second thought. He picked up after two rings, his voice slightly groggy.
“Hey, baby.”
“Vincent,” I exhaled sharply, clutching the edge of the bathroom sink. “I’m spotting.”
A beat of silence. Then, all at once, he was alert.
“I’ll drop everything. I’m coming home.”
“No—wait,” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think clearly. “Call Dr. Owens. I don’t want to move. If something’s wrong with the baby, I’d rather she check me here.”
“Done. I’ll be there soon.”
The line went dead, and I forced myself to take slow, steady breaths. It could be nothing. Just normal pregnancy symptoms. But fear lodged itself deep inside me, growing heavier with every second.
***
By the time Vincent arrived, Dr. Owens was already with me, setting up the portable ultrasound in the bedroom. Evie stood nearby, arms crossed, her usual confident demeanor overshadowed by the worry in her eyes.
“Aby, are you okay?” she asked, inching closer.
“I feel fine,” I admitted, though my voice wavered. I turned to Dr. Owens, gripping the sheets beneath me. “But spotting isn’t good, is it?”
Dr. Owens gave me a reassuring smile, her movements calm and precise as she squeezed gel onto my stomach and pressed the probe against my skin.
“Let’s take a look, okay? Try to relax.”
The room was silent except for the low hum of the machine. I held my breath as the grainy image flickered on the screen, my heart hammering in my chest.
Then, finally—
“The baby’s fine,” Dr. Owens said, the tension in the air dissolving instantly.
I exhaled in relief, my eyes fluttering shut.
“Thank God.”
“That said,” she continued, adjusting the monitor, “I want to run some full lab work just to be safe. But for now, Abigail, you need to rest. Complete bed rest until you give birth. This is the perfect time for you to file a maternity leave.”
“What about my patients?” I asked, already thinking of the appointments I’d have to cancel.
Evie shot me a look. “Didn’t you hear what Dr. Owens just said? Bed rest.”
I sighed, knowing I had no choice.
“Fine.”
Dr. Owens packed up her things, promising to check in later once she reviewed my labs. I watched her leave before shifting to find Vincent.
“Where is he?” I asked, scanning the room.
Evie hesitated.
I caught the flicker of something unreadable in her expression before she rolled her eyes. “Probably nursing a hangover.”
My stomach clenched.
“What do you mean?”
Evie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, the bedroom door swung open.
Vincent walked in, looking as put together as ever. His suit was crisp, his tie perfectly in place, but there was something slightly off—the faint scent of whiskey lingering around him.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead before sitting at the edge of the bed, taking my hand in his. “How are you, baby?”
I hesitated, still watching him. “Bed rest. Doctor’s orders.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. Then he glanced at the clock, sighing. “I have a hearing this morning.”
Of course, he did.
Vincent turned to Evie. “Will you watch her for me?”
Evie’s lips pressed together.
For a second, I thought she’d say something—something biting, something sharp. But then she smiled sweetly, her voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.
“You didn’t even have to tell me,” she said smoothly. “I already took the day off.”
