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FOUR MONTHS LATER
I stood facing the mirror in a crummy hotel bathroom. The pregnancy test rested against the back of the toilet, its two lines explaining a lot. After Theo died, I’d thought I was sick with grief. It turned out that no matter how much I didn’t want to cry, when I shut the door at night, that was all I was capable of doing.
For weeks, I didn’t sleep. Lukas ordered me to take some time off, and the CIA just fell in line. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so as soon as I was cleared for duty, I began training. Life became nearly unbearable. I worked out constantly, hoping that it would help me sleep. But when I got to my room, all I did was bawl.
Finally, I got an assignment. It wasn’t what I hoped, but at least it was something. The collective governments of the world tracked down Mr. Ashcroft’s many nuclear weapons and dismantled them. I was supposed to go in and meet with some delegates in London to explain what had happened.
It had been a while since I’d had my period, at least four months. But I wasn’t exactly regular. All the traveling and the workouts and missing meals left and right made it difficult for my body to keep up. So I hadn’t been too concerned until I realized that the last time I’d bled was before the final battle with New Dawn.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be pregnant or not. On one hand, it would be wonderful to have a little piece of Theo to carry with me for the rest of my life. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure if I was destined to be a great mother.
What would I do when other parents wanted play dates? Would I sit around talking about bake sales and fashion, or would I drop the child off with a babysitter? Theo’s grandmother had managed to juggle work and family, but I knew it hadn’t been easy.
What would I tell the child about their father? Would I eventually let them in on the secret, that Theo died protecting innocent lives? Or would I have to make up a more reasonable death like an auto accident or an illness?
There were too many considerations, but it was out of my hands. If I was pregnant, then I would do my best. I wasn’t going to give the child up for adoption or risk them growing up the way I did. I would love them with all my heart and work toward a healthier lifestyle.
That might mean getting a regular job, but if that’s what I had to do, I would do it. I’d faced dozens of killers, mafiosos, terrorists and government agents. I could hold down a secretarial position or start selling real estate. Whatever it took, I would throw myself into my new life with energy and passion, never letting my child know how long it had taken for me to settle down.
I started to cry thinking about a lifetime without Theo. We were supposed to retire to the beach together, hide away so that no one could find us. But I couldn’t very well do that on my own. Not with a kid to take care of.
Why did life have to be so cruel?
I glanced at the pregnancy test and saw two thin pink lines. Pregnant. I wasn’t surprised. All the signs pointed that way; the test itself was a mere formality.
Thinking with my rational brain, I realized I was going to have to buy prenatal vitamins. I would need to make an appointment with an OBGYN. That meant I would have to find an OBGYN, and I had no idea how to start that search. Maybe the CIA database would have some information on doctors. At least I could choose one that had no external conflicts.
I wiped my eyes and reached for my makeup. I might be a train wreck, but I didn’t want anyone else to know that. As far as my colleagues were concerned, I was over Theo. He was just another casualty in a war that we had won. I needed to share everything I could possibly remember about Mr. Ashcroft and his organization to help MI6 track down the last remaining fighters.
Dabbing a bit of foundation beneath my eyes, I worked away the puffiness. I was getting to be a master of disguise. Though I’d used makeup many times to cover up bruises I’d received in the field, covering up the tears was a new thing entirely.
I left the hotel room, walking west toward the meeting location. I came out onto the street at a busy plaza. There were people all around, paying little attention to where they were going. Most had their noses buried in cell phones, while others were deep in conversation.
I felt alone, even though I was surrounded by others. It was a sensation I was growing used to, although for some reason, this time was a little less painful. Maybe it was the knowledge of the baby. I wouldn’t be alone if I was a mother. I would have someone to love and protect who wouldn’t turn on me. And I would be sure not to let the child get involved in anything dangerous like I had.
I was so focused on myself that I didn’t notice a man walking past me. His shoulder brushed mine, and the effect was so electric, it made me gasp. Turning around, I saw the back of his head and thought he was Theo.
“Theo!” I shouted, grabbing the man by the arm and spinning him around.
It wasn’t Theo. The man, a British banker of the same height and weight, looked mildly amused. I snapped my jaw shut, wondering how I could have made such an amateur mistake. To call out his name and assume that he would have passed me by without so much as a hello was ridiculous. I apologized before hurrying away.
The meeting lasted longer than it should have. I gave my report and had to sit there while other people gave theirs. I felt like I was back in high school, being judged by my peers and not quite measuring up. I was certain that they all knew what a mess I was. They probably didn’t know I was carrying Theo’s baby, but they would soon.
What did pregnant spies do? Would I be confined to a desk for the next five months? Should I even bother keeping the job? I didn’t want to be out in the field with a newborn at home. It wasn’t fair to risk myself because if the worst happened, my baby would go into the foster system, which was where I’d met Mr. Ashcroft and started down my disastrous path.
Walking back to the hotel room, I made a decision. I wasn’t going to wait for the CIA to put me out into the field. In fact, I wasn’t going to talk to them about my condition at all. I had a contact who could create fake documents.
I could go anywhere in the world with the skills I had. I could blend in, learn to speak the language, and live out the rest of my life anonymously. I would open up a bakery or become a substitute teacher, anything to avoid detection. And my child would grow up in a normal, healthy environment, where there were no government secrets or evil warlords to fight.
I couldn’t wait to get away, somewhere I would never imagine running into Theo again. I had to remind myself that he was dead. I was never going to see him again. But somewhere deep inside, I held out hope. They hadn’t found a body. That meant something. Maybe he was recuperating somewhere like Ryan had claimed to be. Maybe the government was lying to me again; they’d proven that they would do so without remorse.
I had to hold out hope because it was the only thing between me and a complete nervous breakdown. But even as I recognized the slim chance that Theo could still be alive, I had to do what was best for me and the baby.
It was time to move on with my life. And I couldn’t do that as Clark Abrams.
