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For athis, but he just stares at me with open acceptance of my history

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” I say with a sniffle “I was so afraid it was a bad onancy, and I didn’t want to worry you But I did tell Dr Anchors about it”

“When you asked to speak to him privately on that first visit,” he concludes

“Yeah He told e does not increase odds of another”

Bodie givesto worry about”

I give a hard shake to ht it was h doctors—Dr Anchors included—have told me it wasn’t”

“Why would you think it was?”

I take another deep breath “I was living wild and dangerous Doing stupid shit I had just jumped off a tower in China and then nant”

“Jesus,” Bodieme up out of the chair I don’t protest I’m not sure if it makes me weak or not, but I layroom

He drops down onto the couch, keeping me on his lap He cradles me like a child, and fresh tears swamp my eyes

“Rachel?” Bodie murmurs with a question implicit in his tone “Did the father of the child ?”

I shakean involuntarily sniffle “He didn’t even knoasn’t with his”

“Okay,” he says with relief, assured that sohts in my head

It’s so very strange I knoithout a doubt had I miscarried today, Bodie would have never made me feel like shit He told me it would all be okay no matter what, and built within that statement is a deep trust I have in him that it would—eventually—be okay