I stared at him, utterly speechless. I could never have imagined that he would go to such lengths for Joanne. As he stepped toward me, his face serious and resolute, terror gripped me.
Holding my belly protectively, I backed away, "Gerald, what are you doing? This is against the law!"
Pain pierced through my abdomen. The blood that had only just stopped began to flow again. In my dazed state, I recalled our last Christmas in college.
Gerald had placed a Santa hat on my head, lovingly tapping my nose as he joked about us having several children in the future, so Christmas would feel more festive.
He'd said, "Eleanor, what if we name our first child 'Sean'? You look stunning today, I want to commemorate it."
"Sean ... Sean ..." The name surfaced in my thoughts and before I realized it, I had muttered it aloud.
For the first time in a while, my child stirred, kicking softly as if begging for help. A faint glimmer of hope softened my despair.
"Gerald, I'm not lying," I pleaded. "If you don't believe me, feel my belly ... Sean is kicking me ..."
"Eleanor, you never change. Don't blame me for being ruthless, then!" He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the operating room.