Eight Years Of Love, A Wedding Ring For Another Woman Chapter 08

Eight Years Of Love, A Wedding Ring For Another Woman Chapter 08

The wedding was small. 

It was just the two of us going down to City Hall and signing 

the papers. 

By the time we came back out, the sun was bright. 

Daniel carefully put away our marriage certificate, then 

suddenly seemed to remember something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. 

It was an ultrasound printout. 

I stared at it. 

“This is…” 

“Three months.” He smiled in that slightly foolish, nervous 

way of his. “I didn’t dare tell you before. I was afraid you 

weren’t ready.” 

I looked down at the report. The print was small, but I could 

still read it clearly. Intrauterine pregnancy, approximately 

twelve weeks. 

When I lifted my head, Daniel was looking at me so tensely 

that his palms were covered in sweat. 

“Do you… do you want this baby?” 

I didn’t answer right away. I lowered my eyes to my stomach. 

It was still flat, with nothing to show yet, and still I knew a life was already taking root inside me. 

Two years earlier, there had been another ultrasound report 

just like this one. 

Back then, I had almost ended the pregnancy. I ended up 

keeping it, but not because I wanted to, and in the end I lost it 

anyway. 

I could still remember lying on the operating table, touching 

my stomach before the anesthesia went in and saying silently, 

I’m sorry. 

That child had never been born. 

Ethan had forced me to keep it. It had never been what I 

wanted. 

But now, when I looked at Daniel, I saw his eyes shining in the 

sunlight, full of hope and fear and all the things I had once stopped believing I could ever have again. 

“Daniel.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I want this baby.” 

He froze, then pulled me into his arms so tightly I could barely 

breathe. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against my ear, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.” 

I closed my eyes. 

The sunlight on my skin felt warm. 

Not far away, an elderly woman pushed a stroller past us, and 

the baby inside it let out a peal of laughter. 

I thought of my mother. If she had still been here, she would 

have been over the moon. 

She would have made soup for me every day and kept nagging 

me to eat more because that was the only way the baby would 

grow strong. 

She would have knitted little sweaters for the baby, the bright, 

ugly kind I always used to complain about. 

She would have… 

I opened my eyes and buried my face in Daniel’s chest. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Nothing.” 

I didn’t tell him, because some things didn’t need to be said 

out loud. One gust of wind, and they were gone.