Through the Darkness: Of Love and Loss Series Book One

45

Overnight, or so it seemed to Everett, Elyria's belly went from a decent globe to nearly triple in size.

Even Doc commented on it with some surprise at her last appointment, although he assured both her and Everett that everything continued to look normal and not fret. Something far easier to say than do, in Everett's opinion.

Their first full-fledged winter snowstorm hit the first week of December, a few days after Daphne and her family left. It dumped a whopping ten inches in less than seven hours, with the promise of another eight to ten by nightfall.

Everett needed no further proof to declare Elyria forbidden from continuing her school lunches with him once school resumed after the holidays. Not that she'd been up to the feat over the past couple of weeks.

She barely made it around their home without breaking down in tears or needing a nap, and even then, she spent more time tossing and turning—forever in search of a comfortable position that never lasted for longer than three minutes at a time.

The nights were long and miserable, but the days were longer and near unbearable. Each moment he spent away from Elyria, he worried about her being alone at home and the vast array of issues and needs that might arise without him there.

It was torture, this never-ending worry. The only thing making it bearable became the short bursts of relief—or, as Everett liked to call them, 'miracle moments'—where Elyria didn't suffer from nausea, and the myriad other pains lessened.

One such 'miracle moment' took him entirely by surprise two weeks ago, just before Christmas. He came home from school, eager and ready for the long holiday break, and discovered Elyria had made him a hearty roast beef stew with his favorite fresh baked bread for supper.

Imagine his surprise when, once they finished dinner and the dishes cleared, his wife, who hadn't been able to stomach the mere smell of him, suddenly couldn't keep her hands off him.

Sadly, some of these miraculous moments lasted only a few hours, while others lasted one to two days at a time.

He'd secretly been hoping for a 'miracle moment' upon his return home today, but the instant he opened the back door, those hopes came crashing down.

The house was alarmingly cold and silent. Hairs stood up on the backs of his arms as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Pegleg?"

Nothing.

His heart hammered, and his stomach knotted in dread. He went first to their bedroom but found it empty of her presence. Then, telling himself to calm down and keep a leveled head instead of giving in to the panic gnawing at his gut, he made his way over to the bathroom.

Anguish and pain, the likes of which he'd never known, engulfed him when he found Elyria lying deathly still on the white tiled floor. A cry tore from his throat as he rushed to her side and knelt on the floor.

She jolted awake with a groan. "Why are you making that horrendous noise?"

Relief, more intense than his anguish of moments before, overwhelmed him, leaving him weak. Tears stung his eyes, and his hands shook as he gathered her up and cradled her to his chest.

She sighed and returned the embrace for a brief moment but then quickly pushed free of his hold and hugged the toilet instead.

"I thought you were dead," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "What are you doing on the floor?"

Once she finished throwing up, she pulled the chain to flush the toilet, sank to her knees, and covered her mouth with a shaky hand.

Elyria pointed to the towels she'd used for pillow and blanket on the floor next to her, whispering, "I grew tired of the journey from our room to here."