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Emma stared at the stic stick in her hand, the two pink lines unmistakable despite her trembling fingers.
<i>Positive</i>.
She sank onto the edge of the bathtub, mind spinning. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, after they’d signed surrogacy contracts. Not now, when Katie was preparing for hormone treatments to receive their embryo.
Not now, when Emma had finally made peace with another woman carrying their child.
She reached for her phone to check the date. Eight weeks since herst period–she’d assumed the irregrity was stress–rted. How could she not have <i>noticed</i>? Then again, between Franklin’s health, team management, and surrogacy nning, she’d barely had time to breathe.
A knock at the bathroom door made her jump.
“Emma?” Alek called. “Are you alright? We need to leave for the clinic in twenty minutes.”
The clinic. Where they were scheduled to begin their egg retrieval process today. Where doctors would take her eggs, fertilize them with Alek’s sperm, and create embryos for Katie
to carry.
“Fine,” she called back, voice remarkably steady. “Just finishing my makeup.”
She <i>wrapped </i>the pregnancy test in tissue paper and buried it in the bathroom trash, mind racing. She needed time to process this before telling Alek. Time to understand what it meant, what risks it carried.
Time to decide if she dared hope.
“Your hormone levels are excellent,” Dr. Crawford said, reviewing Emma’s blood work. “We should have no trouble retrieving multiple viable eggs for fertilization.”
Emma nodded mechanically, guilt churning in her stomach. She should say something. Stop the process before they went further. But the words stuck in her throat.
“Next steps will be daily hormone injections,” the doctor continued. “Mr. Volkov, many partners assist with these. Would you befortable administering the shots?”
“Of course,” Alek replied without hesitation. “Whatever Emma needs.”
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His unwavering support only intensified her guilt. They’de so far in their rtionship, rebuilding trust after months of mimunication. Now she was keeping the most important secret imaginable.
“I’ll give you a moment to review the consent forms,” Dr. Crawford said, stepping out of the
consultation room.
The second the door closed, Emma turned to Alek. “I can’t do this today.”
Concern immediately crossed his features. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just… overwhelmed,” she said, not entirely lying. “It’s all happening so fast.”
“We can reschedule,” Alek assured her, taking her hand. “There’s no rush.”
But there was, Emma thought desperately. Katie was waiting. ns were in motion. And meanwhile, inside her, cells were dividing and multiplying–a pregnancy that statistics said had significant chances of following the same dangerous path as before.
“I need a few days,” she managed. “To process everything.”
Alek nodded, worry still evident in his eyes. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
Three dayster, Emma sat in Dr. Winters‘ private office–not Franklin’s cardiologist, but the high–risk obstetrician who had treated her after the ectopic pregnancy.
“You’re definitely pregnant,” the doctor confirmed, setting aside the ultrasound wand. “Approximately eight weeks along, and the embryo is properly positioned in the uterus.”
Relief made Emma light–headed. Not ectopic. At least not this time.
“What are the risks?” she asked. “Of anotherplication?”
“Elevated but not prohibitive,” Dr. Winters replied honestly. “Having one functioning fallopian tube doesn’t increase risks once the pregnancy is established in the uterus. However,” she added carefully, “your previous experience does ssify this as high–risk, requiring careful monitoring.”
Emma nodded, processing. “And chances of carrying to term?”
“Good, assuming no otherplications develop.” The doctor studied her face. “You don’t seem as happy as most patients receiving confirmation of a healthy pregnancy.”
“It’splicated,” Emma admitted. “We’ve already begun a surrogacy process.”
Understanding dawned in the doctor’s expression. “Ah. That does present unique challenges.”
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“I haven’t told my husband yet,” Emma confessed. “I needed to be sure first.”
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“Understandable,” Dr. Winters said gently. “But I’d rmend sharing this news soon. Support systems are crucial in high–risk pregnancies.”
Emma left the appointment clutching an ultrasound image in her purse, mind whirling with impossible decisions. Should they continue with Katie’s surrogacy as a backup, knowing the risks to Emma’s pregnancy? Was that fair to Katie? To Alek? <i>To </i>any of them?
She drove to Franklin’s mansion, seeking wisdom from the one person who always saw throughplexity to the heart of matters.
“Well, this is an unexpected visit,” Franklin said when she entered his study. “Thought you’d be at that clinic appointment.”
“I cancelled it,” Emma replied, settling into her usual chair. “Grandpa, can I ask you something hypothetically?”
Franklin set aside his newspaper, eyes sharpening with interest. “Mitchell men excel at hypotheticals.”
“If
you
had two paths to the same goal,” Emma began carefully, “one riskier but more personally meaningful, the other safer but requiring letting go of control–which would you
choose?”
“Depends on the goal’s importance,” Franklin answered without hesitation. “Some prizes justify any risk. Others don’t.”
“And if the prize was family?” Emma asked softly. “The next generation?”
Understanding dawned in Franklin’s eyes. “Emmy,” he said gently, “are you pregnant?” <fnec5c> Chapters first released on FιndＮovel</fnec5c>
The simple question <i>broke </i>her carefulposure. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded, pulling the ultrasound image from her purse.
“Oh, my dear girl,” Franklin moved with surprising speed to embrace her. “This is wonderful
news.”
“It’s terrifying news,” Emma corrected, voice muffled against his shoulder. “After what happenedst time. And now with Katie…”
“Katie?” Franklin asked, puzzled.
“Our surrogate,” Emma exined, wiping her eyes. “We’ve signed contracts. She’s preparing her body to receive our embryo. And now I’m pregnant naturally, against medical odds, and I
don’t know what to do.”
:
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Franklin guided her back to her chair, his expression thoughtful. “Does Aleksander know?”
Emma shook her head. “I’ve been too afraid to tell him.”
“Afraid of what?” Franklin asked gently. “His reaction?”
“Afraid of getting his hopes up,” Emma admitted. “Afraid of his fear for me. Afraid of what this means for all our careful ns.”
“Ah.” Franklin nodded with understanding. “You’ve been protecting him from worry, just as he once tried to protect you from risk.”
The parallel hadn’t urred to Emma, but its truth struck immediately. “I suppose I have.”
“And how did you feel when he made decisions based on what he thought was best for you?” Franklin pressed.
“Dismissed,” Emma acknowledged. “Like my voice didn’t matter.”
“Precisely.”
The simple response carried all the guidance she needed. Emma checked her watch–Alek would be home soon from his afternoon meetings.
“I need to tell him,” she said, rising. “Tonight.”
Franklin squeezed her hand. “That’s my girl.”
Alek found Emma in their kitchen, stirring pasta that she had no appetite for. His expression registered immediate concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting down his briefcase. “You look pale.”
Instead of answering, Emma handed him an envelope. Puzzled, he opened it, withdrawing the ultrasound image. For a moment, he stared uprehendingly.
“Is this…” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as understanding dawned.
“I’m pregnant,” Emma confirmed. “Eight weeks. The doctor confirmed it’s not ectopic this
time.”
Alek’s face transformed–surprise to joy to fear, cycling in rapid session. “How? When did you find out?”
“Three days ago,” Emma admitted. “I took a home test, then saw Dr. Winters today for confirmation.”
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“Three days?” Hurt shed across his features. “Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“I needed to be sure it wasn’t ectopic again,” Emma exined. “I couldn’t bear to give <i>you </i>hope and then…”
“Have it shattered,” Alek finished, understanding softening his expression. He crossed the kitchen to pull her into his arms. “Emma, whatever news you receive–good or bad–I want to hear it together.”
She rested her head against his chest, tears threatening again. “I was so afraid.”
“Of course you were,” he murmured into her hair. “After what happened before.”
They stood silently for a moment, processing the magnitude of this <i>unexpected </i>development.
“What about Katie?” Alek asked finally, voicing theplication they couldn’t ignore. “The surrogacy?”
“I don’t know,” Emma admitted. “Dr. Winters says this pregnancy is high–risk. The chances are good, but not guaranteed.”
Alek guided her to the living room sofa, the pasta forgotten. “So we could potentially have two pregnancies proceeding simultaneously?”
“Theoretically,” Emma nodded. “Though I don’t know if that’s ethically right–for Katie or us.”
“There are legal implications too,” Alek noted, analytical mind engaging despite his evident joy. “The contracts we’ve signed, financialmitments…”
“I know,” Emma sighed. “It’s incrediblyplicated.”
Alek ced his hand gently over her still–t stomach. “But also incredibly miraculous.”
The wonder in his voice brought fresh tears to Emma’s eyes. For all their careful nning, life had thrown them another curveball–beautiful and terrifying all at once.
“Dr. Winters emphasized that stress could be dangerous,” Emma said. “For me and the baby. These decisions, the uncertainty…”
“Then we’ll take it one day at a time,” Alek said firmly. “Together. No more secrets, no more protecting each other from reality.”
Emma nodded, leaning into his embrace. The path forward was unclear, tangled withplications both emotional and practical. But for the first time since seeing those two pink lines, she allowed herself to feel something beyond fear.
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Hope. Fragile as a butterfly’s wing, but undeniably present.
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Like a face mask in hockey–unexpected, sometimes ufortable, but ultimately protective–this pregnancy had appeared when least expected but perhaps when most needed. The question now was whether it would guard their dreams orplicate them beyond recognition.
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