Resurrecting Her by A M Wilson

Author:A M Wilson [Wilson, A M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Marlena

“I’m running out to my car for a second. Be right back!” I call to Elias where he’s working on assembling a new desk for his office. Or what he thinks is his office.

I realize I should have told him about the baby before he went out and bought new office furniture for the third bedroom in our new home, but it didn’t feel right.

Yesterday, he was a bit out of sorts. We weren’t fighting, exactly. He seemed like he had a lot on his mind, though, he didn’t share what it was.

It’s not a big deal. We have a fully finished basement he can move his office into once I tell him and we set up the baby’s room.

God, just thinking that sends shivers down my arms. The baby’s room. We’re going to have a baby. That thought is the very reason why I’m running out to my car. I’m going to get the ultrasound and papers. I’m going to tell him.

“Yeah. Come right back. I need to test your weight out on my new desk. Ow. Fuck!”

I laugh as I grab my keys and walk outside.

We moved my car out of the garage last night so we could unload the boxes of office furniture and forgot to pull it back in. The inside is hot from sitting in the sun all morning. Flipping down the visor, I open the garage door and pull into my now empty space.

A surge of excitement courses through me as I grab the papers from the glove compartment. I open the driver’s door and have one foot on the ground when a flash of yellow catches my eye.

There’s a yellow envelope on top of the stack that I didn’t leave there. I drop my head back onto the headrest. Elias is always so damn sneaky! I bet he’s waiting in there with a stupid grin on his face knowing exactly this is what I was about to do.

There’s no way I’m going to give him the satisfaction of reading this in front of him. Besides, I’m too curious to wait that long. I check the garage and door to our house to make sure he isn’t watching me, then I flip the envelope over and reach inside.

It’s a card. My eyebrows dip in confusion while I study it. Not the type I was expecting either. It has three glittery balloons—red, blue and yellow—with the word Congratulations arched over the top.

My stomach sours as I open it. The inside is blank of a generic sentiment but both sides are covered in pen writing. Not nice writing, but scratched and smeared as if it were written in a hurry.

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