Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)(67)

I’ve allowed myself to dream, to hope, to plan.

As Jude’s plane was touching down in New York, I was enjoying a cup of herbal tea on the deck, relaxing with my feet up, thinking how wonderful the sun felt on my skin.

I’d made it nearly halfway through my second trimester without a single issue.

Life was good.

Deciding a little walk might do some good, I grabbed Sandy’s leash and headed for the beach. He excitedly jumped up and down the moment my fingers brushed the canvas. The darn thing wasn’t even in my hands yet, and somehow, he knew a walk was going to happen.

We took a long leisurely stroll down the beach, waving at runners and happy children playing in the sand. On our way home, I stopped at the mailbox and picked up the mail.

That’s when I saw it—a baby catalog.

Somehow, the people in mail land had figured out the impending arrival of our child before I was barely bulging out of my pre-pregnancy jeans.

How did they do that?

I stared at the catalog like it was filled with kryptonite and battery acid as Sandy and I made our way into the house. Setting it down on the counter, I gave him treats and water and made myself a snack, looking at it the entire time out of the corner of my eye.

And then, I swear it moved.

I gripped the counter, shaking my head a little, trying to dislodge any cobwebs or bats . . . because I mean, things were getting a little freaky.

By this time, I was sure I was going crazy.

Maybe I already have. I am a full-grown woman writing in a journal.

Anyway, moving on.

The catalog continued to stare at me through dinner until I finally caved.

Snatching it off the counter, I decided I would just peek.

It couldn’t hurt just to see what was out there in the world of babies, right?

So, I opened it, just a little, and immediately, I was sucked in.

Suddenly, I found myself standing at the door of the empty bedroom adjacent from ours, mentally measuring walls for crib space, looking at the windows for types of curtains, and even picking out color palettes.

I’d gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye, and it actually felt good.

I wondered what I had been so scared of.

My hand dropped down to my round little belly, the tiny flutter I’d grown accustomed to making its presence known. I smiled, remembering the first time I’d felt it.

It was all real and it was happening.

Jude and I had been tiptoeing around this pregnancy, fearful of everything that went along with it. We both put on positive smiles and charged ahead, but I knew neither one of us was actually taking that fateful first step.

That empty nursery proved just that.

We were two people skating around a frozen pond, just waiting for the center to give in. Take one step too far, and everything would fall into the icy water below.

I decided, in that moment, to be the one to take that first brave step.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature had other plans.

I was so excited in my planning that I hadn’t noticed the signs—the dizziness, the blurred vision.

As I look back now, I probably should have, but when focused on a task, especially one that involves a credit card and online ordering, I tend to push other things aside.

I finally owned up to what was going on internally when I stood and saw stars.

I called my mom, and . . . well, the rest is history.

Here we are.

Sometimes, I feel like life is one giant stage. Just when I think I’m about to hit my high note—the big number that will make me a star—someone comes up behind me with one of those big stage hooks, ready to drag me away.

“Lailah?” Jude burst through the door, his eyes wide and frantic.

He looked like he’d been up all night, and judging by the state of his clothes and the wee hours of the morning, I guessed he probably had been.

“Are you okay? I got here as soon as I could,” he rushed out the words. His legs carried him to my side.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to sob, leaking every last tear my body could produce, but I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

Seeing his worry, his need for everything to be okay, I swallowed every last fear, keeping them at bay, squashing them down for another time.

“I’m fine,” I responded. “High blood pressure, that’s all. They’re discharging me now.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I swear, I’m fine.” I held my hands up in defense.

“I shouldn’t have gone.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. The doctor on call said high blood pressure is a perfectly normal thing for pregnant woman. See? I’m normal,” I encouraged.

“I’m not traveling anymore,” he replied, completely ignoring my comments.

“Good,” I said. “I like having you around.” I cupped his face with my hands.

His eyes closed as he melted into my palm. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

“But you’re here now,” I reminded him. “Just in time to bust me out of this place.”

“You got it. Let’s go home.”

“Now, you’re talking.”

“When you said you ordered a few things while I was gone, did you possibly underestimate that statement a bit?” Jude asked as he carried in what had to be the tenth box in the last two days.