“There’s a possibility that your pregnancy saved your life.”
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Without the pregnancy, you may not have had the imaging and monitoring that led us to this discovery when we did.”
I stared at him.
For years, I had wondered whether becoming pregnant at sixty-one was selfish.
Whether I was asking too much from life.
Whether people were right to question my decision.
But now I understood something.
The pregnancy hadn’t magically cured anything.
It hadn’t erased the danger.
But it had led doctors to look closely at my body at a time when they otherwise might not have.
And that examination had uncovered something silent.
Something I didn’t know was there.
That night, I stood beside Liam’s crib.
Thomas walked into the room.
“You’re thinking about her again.”
I nodded.
“Emily.”
He stood beside me.
“I haven’t had the dream since Liam was born.”
