Gemotions

Sarah stared at the printout. “You are not, in fact, pregnant.” The nurse had been matter-of-fact. Sarah’s relief, when the mix-up was revealed, was quickly replaced by a profound sense of… something akin to dread.

She had already told her husband, David. He had already celebrated. He'd bought her flowers, baked a cake, made extravagant promises of a baby’s room. His face, when she told him the truth, was a study in stunned disbelief.

Now, she avoided his eyes. She picked at her food at dinner, the silence amplifying the sharp, twisting sensation in her stomach. Every touch, every gesture of affection from him, felt like a judgment. She felt like she'd stolen a moment of joy that wasn’t hers to take.

She spent the night on the couch, unable to sleep, the memory of David's face a burning brand in her memory.