The doctor's report was kept and folded neatly in Rachel's drawer, but it felt like a burning fire in her mind every time she thought about it.
Four months pregnant.
The words kept repeating over and over in her head.
Each time she stood and saw herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but let her hand move to her stomach, clearly not sure what to do, as if touching it would make it more real.
It was still looking flat. No one would know yet. But she knew about it. And this knowledge bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
She told herself to stay focused. She had lots of meetings, agreements to finalize, and decisions that had to be made right away, she had activities that could keep her busy.
She was Rachel Crawford, a boss, a mother, a woman who had survived tougher things than this. But no matter how long she stayed at her desk, the papers became blurry in front of her.
One question burned at the back of the mind.
Should I tell him?
