The Mistaken by Nancy S Thompson

sure…really, really sure. I think I’m
about seven weeks along. No one else knows except for you, and my
doctor, of course. And lastly, I’ve wanted to tell you since Rome,
but I wasn’t sure, so I thought I should wait until I could see my
doctor. And now that I have, I’m telling you.” She beamed a radiant
smile. “I’m pregnant, Ty.”
    I stopped breathing for a long moment and grew
light-headed. My arms and legs started to shake, and my belly
tingled. The walls seemed to spin then expand outward. With a shake
of my head, I crawled over to Jillian. I knelt at her feet and
grabbed her wrists, pulling her down onto the floor and into my
arms. My tears left dark stains along the fabric over her shoulder.
Jillian tried to pull back, but I refused to let her go.
    She sighed. “Are you happy, Tyler, or do you think
it’s too soon?”
    “Yes,” I whispered, my voice tight.
    She laughed again. “Yes? Yes what?”
    “Yes, Jillian, I’m very happy!”

Chapter Six
    Jillian
     
    The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and bacon wafted
down the hall and into our bedroom, pulling me inch by inch toward
consciousness. Before I even gave it much thought, I breathed in
deep and filled my nose with the delicious scents. My eyes
fluttered open, worry overwhelming me as the strong odors permeated
my brain. I peered over at the saltine crackers I always kept on my
nightstand, ready to cram them in my mouth as soon as the nausea
hit. But for once, it did not. Relieved, I smiled and allowed
myself the simple pleasure of enjoying the decadent fragrance.
    I’d always loved Sunday mornings. They were lazy and
relaxed, and, after making love, Tyler would pamper me with a big
plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, with toast and jam and a
steaming mug of coffee on the side. But the last few weeks had
conspired against me as morning sickness flooded through me the
moment I woke up each day. I was worried when the malady struck
more than halfway into my first trimester, concerned that the
change might signal some problem, but my doctor assured me that I
was fine, that the baby was doing well—right on target, she said. I
ran both palms over my gently rounded belly and sighed in
relief.
    I rose slowly and padded into the warm kitchen, my
eyes settling on Ty as he threw a dishtowel over his shoulder. He
whistled tunelessly and pushed a mound of scrambled eggs around a
well-greased cast-iron pan. I approached him from behind and
wrapped my arms around his waist. He stiffened in surprise then
raised his arm, twisting around to greet me.
    “Morning, love,” he said with a smile and a kiss to
my forehead. “How do you feel? Do you have an appetite?”
    “Mm, yes, surprisingly, I do. It smells so good.
Seems like forever since I enjoyed the smell of food in the
morning.” I snatched a crispy piece of applewood-smoked bacon and
stuffed half of it into my mouth. “Not to mention the food itself,”
I mumbled.
    Tyler chuckled. “Well, you go sit down, and I’ll
serve you a plate. I made you some decaf, unless you want to join
me for some tea instead.”
    I gave my head a firm shake, my mouth too full to
speak as I savored the thick slice of heaven.
    “All right then, coffee it is. And the paper is
right there. See what you can dig up.”
    With one foot tucked beneath me, I sat down at the
kitchen table. “Ty, this would be so much easier on the computer,
don’t you think?”
    He placed a plate of steaming food on the table
before me. “Perhaps, but not nearly as much fun.” He kissed the top
of my head and pressed a prescription bottle of pills into my hand.
“Make sure you take these before you eat.” He gave me a stern look
and moved back to the stove where he served himself a generous
helping of food. “If you’re up to it, I’d like to hit as many as we
can before dinner.”
    I looked over the bottle’s label and sighed. Wellbutrin . “Did you fish these out of the trash?” I
asked.
    “That’s where you left them.”
    “And