Now, reading Paul’s private hopes and dreams, I felt a fresh wave of grief wash over me. «Oh, Paul,» I whispered, holding the notebook close. «We had so many plans.»
That night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. My mind kept drifting to the journal, to the future we’d never have. When I finally drifted off, I dreamed of Paul.
He was smiling, holding out his hand to me. «It’s OK, Julie,» he said in my dream. «Everything’s going to be all right.»
I woke up the next morning feeling different. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something had changed. As I got ready for work, a wave of nausea hit me, and I barely made it to the bathroom in time.
The morning sickness didn’t go away in the days that followed. At first, I thought it was just stress and grief, but a small voice in the back of my mind suggested something else. After a week of this, I found myself in the pharmacy, staring at pregnancy tests.
With trembling hands, I bought one and hurried home. The five minutes I waited for the result felt like the longest of my life. When I finally looked at the test, there were two clear blue lines.
I sank to the bathroom floor, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions: joy, fear, grief, and hope all swirling together. «Julie,» Dad’s voice came through the door. «Everything OK in there?»
I opened the door, tears streaming down my face. Dad’s expression changed from concern to alarm. «What’s wrong, sweetie?» he asked.
I held up the test, my hand shaking. «I’m pregnant, Dad.» I fell into his arms, sobbing.
He held me, stroking my hair like he used to when I was a little girl. «It’s OK,» he murmured. «It’s going to be OK.
You’re not alone, Julie. And this baby, this baby is a gift, a piece of Paul that will live on.» His words hit me deeply.
This baby was a part of Paul, a continuation of our love. Suddenly, the fear began to fade, replaced by a strong determination. «You’re right,» I said, wiping my eyes…
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