Cassidy slowly pulled her shirt back down over her stomach, her fingers trembling slightly. The cool gel had been wiped away, but the echo of that tiny heartbeat still pulsed in her ears.
She sat up, trying to collect herself. But the whirlwind inside her wouldn't stop—relief, fear, awe… and something softer, more fragile. Love? Already?
Dr. Rosenthal finished noting something in the chart before turning to face her. "The baby's heartbeat is strong," she said with a gentle smile. "Everything looks healthy for eight weeks."
Cassidy nodded, unable to form words. Her throat felt tight.
"I know this might be overwhelming," the doctor continued, her tone kind. "Especially if the pregnancy wasn't something you expected. But you're doing okay so far. Still, I want to remind you of a few important things."
Cassidy looked up, eyes glassy. "Like what?"
"Well," Dr. Rosenthal began, "the first trimester is a delicate phase. It's when the risk of miscarriage is highest. That's why we recommend avoiding high stress, getting enough rest, and eating balanced, nutritious meals."
Cassidy lowered her gaze, her mind already racing through the past few days—skipped meals, sleepless nights, too many cups of coffee.
Dr. Rosenthal stood up and walked over to her desk, scribbling something on a prescription pad. "I'm going to give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins," she said, tearing off the sheet and handing it to Cassidy. "It contains folic acid, iron, calcium, and DHA—everything your baby needs during these early stages."
Cassidy took the slip of paper, staring at it for a moment as if it carried more weight than it should. In a way, it did. It was a quiet symbol of commitment, of the life now growing inside her.
"You'll want to start taking one tablet daily," the doctor continued. "Preferably with food, since the iron can sometimes upset your stomach on an empty one."
Cassidy nodded slowly. "Okay."
"As for your meals, focus on a diet rich in leafy greens, lean proteins, fruits, and whole grains," Dr. Rosenthal advised gently. "Stay hydrated—water, milk, even some fruit juices are fine. Try to limit caffeine, and skip any processed or high-sugar foods when you can."
"No alcohol, no smoking, no raw seafood," Dr. Rosenthal added gently. "And if you work, try to pace yourself. Listen to your body. Fatigue and nausea are normal, but anything excessive—pain, bleeding—should be reported immediately."
Cassidy offered a tight smile. "So, no more cold pizza and instant coffee for breakfast?"
Dr. Rosenthal chuckled. "Let's just say your baby deserves better."
Cassidy gave a breath of laughter too—but it faded quickly, replaced with a quiet, thoughtful silence.
The doctor studied her for a moment. "This is a big change. You don't have to be perfect, Cassidy. Just consistent. And kind to yourself."
"I'll try," Cassidy murmured, her voice low.
Dr. Rosenthal handed her a small pamphlet with a printed list of recommended foods and a meal plan sample. "And remember, no question is too small. If something feels off, you call us. Deal?"
Cassidy nodded, her hand gently brushing her stomach again. "Deal." Cassidy swallowed. "But, i didn't plan for this," she said quietly, almost to herself.
Dr. Rosenthal nodded. "A lot of women don't. It's okay to feel uncertain. But the fact that you came here, that you're asking questions, that you're thinking about what's best for your baby—that means something."
Cassidy blinked quickly, brushing her thumb over her lower stomach again as if to ground herself.
"If you ever feel overwhelmed or unsure, we can schedule another check-in," the doctor offered. "I can also recommend a counselor if you need someone to talk to."
"Thank you," Cassidy said softly, standing up. Her voice was steadier now, but the war inside her wasn't over.
As she left the room, the faint memory of that steady little heartbeat followed her down the hall, echoing louder than anything else in her world.
Cassidy sat alone in the quiet consultation room, the ultrasound photo clutched loosely in her hands. The fluorescent lights above hummed faintly, but all she could hear was the echo of the baby's heartbeat still ringing in her ears—fast, strong, insistent.
She had nodded through Dr. Rosenthal's explanations, had taken the small envelope with the image inside, had even mumbled a soft "thank you." But now, sitting on the edge of the chair, her fingers trembling slightly, reality was settling in like a slow-moving storm.
She hadn't expected to feel anything. She had walked into the Roseland Hospital with the kind of emotional detachment she'd perfected over the years—calm, controlled, distant. But the moment that sound filled the room, something cracked.
Cassidy looked down at the sonogram image. The shape was barely there—small, curved, undefined. But it was real. A life. Her life. Their life.
Her throat tightened, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, still holding the picture.
She didn't know how to be a mother. She hadn't planned this. She had spent her whole life being told what to do, how to behave, who to marry. And just when she thought she had finally claimed her freedom—this.
But this wasn't another command. It wasn't a deal or a duty.
It was a heartbeat.
Tears prickled the corners of her eyes again, but she wiped them away before they could fall. She wasn't ready. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, there was something else growing—an ache, quiet but undeniable. An instinct. A warmth.
Cassidy whispered to the still room, "I don't know what kind of world I can give you… but I promise, I'll try."
And for the first time since the divorce, she didn't feel completely alone.
***
Cassidy stepped out of the hospital pharmacy just past noon, the sunlight now sharper and warmer than when she had arrived early that morning. She carried a small paper bag in one hand—the supplements Dr. Rosenthal had prescribed after her check-up—and her purse slung over her other shoulder.
The hospital lobby, which had been quiet when she first came in, was now busier, filled with families, nurses, and the usual weekday rhythm. Cassidy slipped through it silently, making her way to the parking lot.
Her car—a clean, simple dark gray sedan—waited in the shade of a narrow tree. It wasn't the kind of vehicle one would associate with the former wife of Ezekiel Theodore Salvador, heir to the largest pharmaceutical empire in the world. But that suited her. Cassidy never wanted attention. Not then. Especially not now.
She drove with the windows half-down, letting the breeze and sunlight spill into the car as she passed familiar blocks. The weight of the morning's ultrasound appointment still sat heavily in her chest. Not heavy in the burdensome sense, but... full. Profound.
That sound—the baby's heartbeat—still echoed in her ears. Quick and strong. A life, growing inside her. A tiny, stubborn proof that something beautiful had come out of something broken.
By the time she reached her apartment building, the city had fully awakened. Traffic buzzed, and people spilled out of cafés and shops on their lunch breaks. Cassidy parked and took the elevator up to her floor.
Her apartment was quiet, clean, and filled with natural light pouring in from the tall windows. She slipped off her shoes, set the pharmacy bag on the counter, and walked slowly to the couch, where she finally let herself sit and breathe.
One hand instinctively rested on her belly.
Eight weeks... she thought. So small, yet already so real.
Her fingers curled slightly, protective.
"I wonder what you'll be…" she whispered aloud, the words soft and a little shaky. "A boy? A girl?"
She smiled faintly, then laughed under her breath. "Either way, you'll be beautiful. That's the one thing I'm sure of. You've got your father's genes—and mine."
Her voice softened even more. "If you're a boy… you'll have to be brave. Gentle. You'll protect me when I'm old and stubborn. Promise?"
She wiped a tear from her cheek.
"And if you're a girl... we'll be best friends. I'll teach you all the things I had to learn the hard way. I'll be your safe place."
Her throat tightened as she looked around her quiet apartment, once a symbol of independence, now quietly transforming into a home for two.
"I didn't expect you," she whispered. "But I'm so glad you're here."
For a long moment, she sat in the stillness—her arms wrapped around herself, her face softened with emotion.
Cassidy had finally come to terms with her pregnancy. The initial wave of shock, fear, and doubt had slowly faded, replaced by a quiet sense of anticipation. As she rested on the couch in her apartment, her hands gently cradled her stomach, she found herself smiling for no reason. The thought that a tiny life was growing inside her—a life she was responsible for—both terrified and thrilled her.
She was starting to look forward to the birth of her baby. To the first cry. The first time she'd hold them in her arms. To the little kicks and movements that would remind her every day that she wasn't alone.
But as her excitement grew, so did the question that had haunted her since the first moment she found out she was pregnant.
Should she tell Zeke?
The thought alone made her heart tighten. He was the father of her child, after all. But he was also the man she had divorced—because she believed he had feelings for someone else. The man who had quietly signed the papers without a word of protest. Did he deserve to know? Would he even care?
She sighed deeply, conflicted. A part of her whispered that it was only right. That he had a right to know. But another part—the one still bruised and wary—told her to protect the peace she had finally found. For now, she chose silence.
The road ahead was uncertain. But she was no longer walking it alone.