Mr. Remington Got Me Pregnant novel Chapter 6

Emery’s POV

It still didn’t feel real. Even with the ultrasound photo in my hands, even with the doctor’s words echoing in my ears, my brain struggled to catch up.

That tiny, peanut-shaped blur? That was my baby. My child. After years of hoping, wondering, and bracing for disappointment, it was finally happening.

“It’s real then?” I asked the doctor again, even though I already knew the answer.

She offered a calm smile, gently closing the chart in her lap. “You’re about eight weeks along. Everything looks healthy.”

I nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. My body had already felt it, some kind of shift, a flutter of hope I hadn’t let myself fully acknowledge until now.

This wasn’t a false alarm. This wasn’t something I’d imagined, there was actual life inside me.

Outside the exam room, Isabel was waiting by the wall, arms folded neatly in front of her. She didn’t speak right away, just glanced down at the printout in my hand, then back up at my face. Her hand reached out and rested lightly on my arm.

“Congratulations, ma’am,” she said softly. “You deserve this.”

That simple sentence hit harder than I expected. No loaded expectations. No backhanded comments. Just kindness.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Thank you.”

No one had said those words to me in years. Not without some condition attached. But this, this moment was mine. Real and uncomplicated.

We walked out to the car in silence. I slid into the passenger seat and placed a hand over my stomach, as if it would ground me.

That man who once whispered promises on our wedding night, the one who said, I’ll take care of you… he didn’t exist anymore. Maybe he never did.

I looked down, hand resting gently on my stomach again. “You’ll never grow up thinking you’re not enough,” I whispered. “Not for anyone.”

This child wouldn’t have to earn love. They wouldn’t spend their life trying to be seen or heard by someone who never planned to listen.

I climbed back into the car, clipped the seatbelt into place, and turned toward Isabel. “Let’s go.”

She glanced over, concern etched into her face. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” I said quietly. “Eventually.”

As the car pulled away from the curb, I leaned my head against the window, eyes closing as a tear slid down my cheek. It didn’t feel like defeat. Not anymore. It felt like the start of something new. Maybe not easy, but mine.