Chapter 2 - The Sound of Life
The ultrasound room was dark, cool, and smelled of antiseptic and paper sheets. The technician, a kind older woman named Brenda, smiled warmly at me as I climbed onto the examination table and pulled my sweater up.
“First time seeing the little one?” she asked cheerfully.
“First time,” I murmured, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Brenda dimmed the overhead lights completely, leaving only the glowing blue light of the monitor. She squeezed a dollop of cold, clear gel onto my lower abdomen and pressed the transducer wand against my skin.
I held my breath.
For a second, the screen was just a blurry grayscale map of static and shadows. Then Brenda adjusted the angle, and a tiny, distinct shape materialized on the monitor—a head, a spine, tiny little nubs that would soon be arms and legs.
And then, the room filled with a sound that shattered every remaining piece of my composure.
Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
A heartbeat. Fast, strong, incredibly loud, and vibrantly alive.
Tears spilled over my eyelids instantly, hot and fast, streaming down my cheeks as I stared at the screen. I covered my mouth with both hands to keep from sobbing out loud. I wasn't alone anymore. No matter what happened with Adrian, no matter how lonely the divorce had been, this little heartbeat belonged entirely to me.
May you like
What I didn’t know was that Adrian Moretti had never left the hallway.
He was standing right outside the locked ultrasound room door, his broad shoulders pressed against the drywall, his eyes closed as he listened. And when that faint, frantic rhythm of our child’s heartbeat bled through the thin wooden door and reached his ears, the man who terrified half of New York City finally looked utterly, completely terrified himself.
