Chapter Ninety-Four: A Heartbeat Between Worlds
522 Words
-----Helen’s POV-----
It was Tuesday.
Which meant nothing to most people.
But for Helen, it meant an appointment. A confirmation. A moment she hadn’t dared to think too hard about.
She was pregnant.
That part wasn’t new. She’d known—deep down. Every wave of nausea, every stretch of dizziness, every time her hands trembled when they weren’t supposed to.
But knowing and hearing were two very different things.
She drove herself.
The girls were with her friend Sarah, happily distracted by coloring books and a dog named Pickle. Helen had kissed their foreheads and smiled too brightly when she left.
Now she sat in a waiting room surrounded by pastel walls and outdated magazines.
No Axton.
No hand on her back.
No voice in her ear telling her it would be okay.
He hadn’t called.
Not once.
And maybe that was what hurt the most.
Because she didn’t know if she wanted him to.
No.
That was a lie.
She wanted him to call.
To show up.
To care.
But maybe he thought giving her space meant silence. Maybe he was listening to that advice he always seemed to get from Price—the calm, measured wisdom she used to admire so much.
The nurse called her name.
Helen followed.
The hallway smelled like antiseptic and paper.
She changed into a gown, laid back on the table, and waited.
The gel was cold when the tech applied it to her belly.
“Okay,” the woman said gently. “Let’s take a look.”
The screen flickered.
Blurry lines. Static. Then—
A shape.
Small. So small.
A tiny gestational sac. A flicker of promise, but too early for more.
"Everything looks right on track for about four or five weeks," the tech said gently. "No heartbeat yet—that’s completely normal at this stage. We’ll have you come back in a couple weeks to check again."
Helen’s own heart stuttered.
She stared at the screen.
That was her baby.
Their baby.
Axton’s baby.
Tears welled up without warning.
She wiped them away quickly, turning her face to the wall.
The tech didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
When it was over, Helen got dressed slowly.
The paper rustled beneath her like a whisper.
In the parking lot, she sat in her car and stared at the ultrasound photo in her hand.
Just a blur, really.
But it was the most important blur she’d ever seen.
She wanted to call him.
She wanted to tell him.
She wanted to feel something other than the ache in her chest and the sting in her eyes.
Instead, she drove.
Not home.
Not to Sarah’s to pick up the girls.
She didn’t even realize where she was going until she turned onto the street.
Axton’s street.
The house came into view—familiar, sharp against the dusk. The porch light was off. The windows dim.
She parked in front, heart thudding.
She didn’t know why she was there.
But she didn’t drive away, either.
She didn’t know what came next.
But she knew she couldn’t carry this alone forever.
Eventually, she’d have to decide.
- Writer
