Fallon
The next day, when Dr. Stevens calls with the results, I’m alone in my room. My hand trembles as I answer the phone, my heart racing.
“Fallon.” Dr. Stevens’ voice is soft. “I’ve reviewed your blood work. Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”
The confirmation hits me like a wave, both terrifying and exhilarating.
“Have you told Leone yet?”
“I figured I would let you. I will give him a call tomorrow and check you have… I figured I would give you a chance to,” he tells me, and I thank him, my voice barely above a whisper, before ending the call.
I am pregnant.
My hand shakes as I set the phone back in its cradle, the weight of Dr. Stevens’ words settling heavily in my chest. Pregnant. I’m pregnant. The reality of it still feels surreal, even though I’ve been suspecting it for week
