MINE ALONE

Chapter 35: Jude

Four months.

Four long months.

Four months of vitamins.

Supplements.

Blood tests.

Appointments.

Meal plans.

Heat cycles.

Carefully following every piece of advice our specialist had given us.

Every morning began the same.

Pills.

Breakfast.

A kiss from Adrian.

Then work.

Every evening ended the same.

A reassuring hug.

Another reminder from Adrian to drink more water.

Another quiet promise that we’d get through this together.

He never complained.

Not once.

Even when I did.

But…

I was tired.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

Every month I found myself wondering…

“Maybe this is the month.”

And every month…

Nothing.

I tried not to let it consume me.

I really did.

But every negative result chipped away at the hopeful part of my heart.

⸻

That morning at the hospital, I couldn’t concentrate.

A patient asked me a question.

I answered it automatically.

A nurse handed me a chart.

I stared at it for several seconds before realising I hadn’t actually read a single word.

“Doctor?”

“Hm?”

“You look tired.”

I smiled politely.

“Just a long week.”

It wasn’t a lie.

But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

The truth was…

I was beginning to wonder whether my body was failing me.

Whether all this effort…

All these months…

Would ever lead us to the little nursery waiting patiently at home.

⸻

By lunchtime, I was standing in the staff room eating strawberries.

Again.

The third bowl that week.

One of my colleagues laughed.

“I’ve never seen someone so devoted to strawberries.”

“They’re just…”

I looked down at the bowl.

“…really good.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Interesting.”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“I just want strawberries.”

“Every day.”

She smiled knowingly but said nothing.

I thought nothing of it.

⸻

The first wave of nausea hit me halfway through the afternoon.

Suddenly.

Without warning.

I barely made it to the nearest bathroom.

I gripped the sink tightly as my stomach lurched.

“What…”

I rinsed my mouth and looked at myself in the mirror.

“I must’ve eaten something.”

That had to be it.

It was the only explanation.

I took a deep breath.

Went back to work.

Told myself to stop overthinking.

⸻

An hour later…

It happened again.

This time stronger.

I hurried back to the bathroom.

My hands trembled slightly as I leaned over the sink.

Nothing made sense.

I’d been exhausted.

I’d been craving strawberries.

Now I couldn’t stop feeling sick.

I froze.

A single thought quietly slipped into my mind.

No…

Surely not.

My heartbeat quickened.

I closed my eyes.

“No.”

“It’s probably nothing.”

“I shouldn’t get my hopes up.”

Not again.

⸻

Still…

I couldn’t ignore it.

I made my way down to the laboratory.

The staff recognised me immediately.

“I’d like to run some blood work.”

Within minutes, everything was arranged.

The sample was taken.

Then…

I waited.

⸻

Waiting was torture.

Every second felt impossibly long.

I sat outside the laboratory twisting my wedding ring around my finger.

“No.”

I whispered to myself.

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t imagine things.”

“You’ve imagined them before.”

I laughed weakly.

“I’m probably not pregnant.”

“I don’t feel pregnant.”

“I’m just tired.”

“The medication.”

“That’s all.”

I repeated those thoughts over and over.

Trying to protect myself.

Trying not to hope too much.

Because hope…

Hope could hurt.

⸻

The laboratory door opened.

“Doctor Jude?”

I stood so quickly my chair scraped loudly across the floor.

“Yes?”

The technician smiled warmly.

“I’ve got your results.”

My heart was pounding so loudly I barely heard the next few words.

“The pregnancy test is positive.”

Everything stopped.

Positive.

Positive?

I blinked.

“I’m…”

The paper shook in my hands.

“I…”

I looked down.

There it was.

Clear.

Undeniable.

Positive.

Pregnant.

A tiny, disbelieving laugh escaped me.

Then another.

Then…

The tears came.

Not quiet tears.

Not polite tears.

Great, overwhelming sobs that seemed to pour out of months of waiting.

Months of hoping.

Months of wondering.

“Oh my God…”

I pressed both hands over my mouth.

“Oh my God…”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words sounded unreal.

Beautifully unreal.

A nurse wrapped me in a gentle hug.

I barely noticed.

I couldn’t stop crying.

“I’m pregnant…”

⸻

My first instinct was to call Adrian.

My thumb hovered over his name.

He would answer immediately.

He always did.

I imagined his voice.

“Baby?”

I smiled through fresh tears.

Then slowly lowered the phone.

“No.”

I whispered.

“I want to see his face.”

“I want to tell him.”

“I want this moment to be ours.”

So instead…

I carefully folded the laboratory report.

Placed it safely inside my bag.

And somehow managed to finish the rest of my shift, though I had absolutely no idea how.

Every few minutes I caught myself touching my stomach.

Still flat.

Still unchanged.

Yet suddenly…

Everything had changed.

⸻

The drive home felt endless.

I don’t think I’d ever been so impatient.

The moment I walked through the front door, Adrian looked up from the sitting room.

“There you are.”

He smiled.

“How was—”

He stopped.

“Baby?”

I realised I was crying again.

He stood immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

My laugh escaped between tears.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

His eyebrows knitted together.

“You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

I took his hands.

“They ran some blood tests today.”

His expression shifted instantly.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded so hard another tear escaped.

“I am.”

“Jude…”

My voice trembled.

“I’ve got something to show you.”

I pulled the folded report from my bag.

He looked confused.

“What is this?”

“Open it.”

His eyes scanned the page.

Once.

Twice.

Then…

He stopped breathing.

His gaze lifted slowly to mine.

“…Is this…”

I nodded, unable to speak.

His lips parted.

“You’re…”

Another nod.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Then Adrian laughed.

Not because anything was funny.

Because happiness had stolen every other response from him.

He cupped my face so gently it almost made me cry again.

“We’re…”

His own voice broke.

“We’re going to be fathers.”

I smiled through tears.

“We are.”

He pulled me into his arms so carefully, as though I were already carrying the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love both of you.”

I laughed softly.

“There’s barely anyone in there yet.”

“There doesn’t have to be.”

He rested his forehead against mine.

“I already do.”

For a long moment we simply held each other.

I could feel his joy.

Bright.

Warm.

Real.

And beneath it…

Something else.

A flicker of fear.

Not fear of me.

Not fear of the baby.

The quiet, protective fear of someone suddenly aware that the person he loved most in the world was about to go through something extraordinary.

I recognised it.

I didn’t mention it.

There would be time for those conversations later.

Tonight…

I only wanted to celebrate.

⸻

That evening we ate dinner together, though I don’t think either of us could remember what was on our plates.

We laughed.

We cried.

We talked about nothing and everything.

The nursery.

Doctor’s appointments.

Who we should tell first.

Whether the tiny socks Adrian had secretly bought months ago would finally have someone to wear them.

Every dream suddenly felt possible.

⸻

Later that night, after the lights were out, I lay on my back beneath the blankets.

My hand rested lightly against my stomach.

There was no movement yet.

No little kicks.

No tiny heartbeat I could feel.

Only the quiet knowledge that somewhere inside me…

A new life had begun.

I smiled into the darkness.

“Hello, little one.”

My voice was barely a whisper.

“We’ve been waiting for you.”

Beside me, Adrian shifted closer until his arm wrapped gently around my waist.

His hand settled over mine.

Neither of us spoke.

We didn’t need to.

Our silence was filled with wonder.

Four months ago, I had wondered if my body would ever let this dream become real.

That morning, I had sat outside a laboratory trying to convince myself not to hope.

Now…

I lay in bed beside my husband, my hand over the tiny miracle we had wished for, planned for, and loved long before we ever knew they existed.

For the first time in months, I wasn’t imagining tomorrow.

Tomorrow had finally found u