Midnight Valentine(99)

Sounding exhausted, Coop says, “Why does God always get blamed for everything? Maybe God’s just letting life do what it will, and watches us to see how we handle it.”

“God as watchmaker as opposed to chess player,” I say. “That’s what my dad thought.”

Suzanne says, “I have no idea what that means, but I do know that everything happens for a reason. Even the bad things. It’s all part of a bigger plan we can’t understand. God is the greatest force of love in the universe.”

I mutter, “I think God’s a kid who likes to sprinkle salt on snails.”

The conversation moves to other topics. Coop updates me on the progress Hillrise is making on the Buttercup, which is impressive. If the weather cooperates, they’re on schedule to have all the work done in late January. Just in time for me to open the B&B for Valentine’s Day.

The fucking irony.

I try my best to make a dent in the pile of food on my plate, but only manage to get a few bites down. They stay for another hour, then we pack up the leftovers and throw out the trash. When Suzanne goes to the restroom, Coop unexpectedly pulls me into a hug.

In a low voice, he says, “What’re you gonna do?”

I know what he means without having to ask. “Wait,” I say, my voice breaking. “No matter how long it takes.”

He pulls away and gazes at me with so much pain in his eyes, it’s awful. “And what if this is as good as it gets?” He gestures to Theo lying unmoving and unresponsive on the bed. “What, then?”

“I’m not giving up hope,” I say with quiet vehemence. “Not now, not ever. If I have to grow old in this fucking hospital room, that’s what I’ll do. If he wakes up and has the IQ of a cup of coffee and needs to be dressed and bathed and hand-fed for the rest of his life, that’s what I’ll do. I love him, Coop. No matter what. I’ll love this man and take care of him until the day I die.”

My throat closes, so my next words are strangled. “And even then, I’ll keep loving him. I’ll love him till the end of time.”

Coop hugs me hard, his breath hitching, then walks out abruptly so I don’t see him cry.

Suzanne comes back from the bathroom and we say our goodbyes, then I’m so tired, I settle into the chair beside Theo’s bed and close my eyes, intending to nap for only a few minutes. But when I open my eyes again, it’s dark outside and Ana is standing over me, whispering my name.

“Megan. Mija, wake up.”

I blink up at her and scrub a hand over my face. My back is stiff and my left leg has fallen asleep. The pins and needles are painful. “What time is it?”

“Just after midnight.”

“Is everything okay?”

When she hesitates, my heart takes off like a rocket. I jump to my feet and knock her out of my way in my hurry to grab Theo’s hand. I search his face in panic for any signs of distress, but he seems to be in the exact same condition he was in when I fell asleep.

“Honey, he’s fine,” she says, touching my shoulder. “It’s, ah…it’s you, actually.”

I turn and stare at her. “Me? What do you mean?”

She glances at Theo. Then, her usually expressive brown eyes revealing nothing, she jerks her chin toward the door. “Let’s go talk over there.”

Oh my God. There’s something terribly wrong with me. It’s cancer. It’s a rare, infectious disease. It’s the Zika virus. It’s Ebola. It’s the fucking plague!

When I continue to stare at her with my mouth open, terror tightening my stomach to a fist, Ana gently takes my arm and steers me toward the door. She stops in the doorway and keeps her voice barely above a whisper.

Which must be why I can’t understand what she says.

“You’re pregnant.”

I blink, then squint at her. “Excuse me? What did you say?”

“I said you’re pregnant, honey. Congratulations.”

I wait for the punch line. When one isn’t forthcoming and Ana simply stares at me with a small, soft smile, I realize she’s not joking.

“Ana, that’s not possible. I can’t get pregnant.”

She lifts her shoulders. “According to your blood test, you can.”

That hipster idiot, Tommy. He switched my test results with someone else’s! Some poor pregnant woman is going to be told her morning sickness is only anemia!

I say flatly, “No, Ana, I can’t. I’m telling you—it’s impossible. It would be a miracle.”

Her entire face lights up with a smile. “Well, God is in the miracle business, honey, so maybe you should thank him.”

There’s a noise in my head like a thousand wolves howling at a full moon. I can hardly hear myself think over it. Incredulous, I whisper, “I’m…I’m pregnant? How?”