(Hey, guys. This is Ali. It's my fault y'all had to wait so long for this chapter. Sorry, life does not know how I prioritize and got in the way- a LOT.)
For the past few days I had not been feeling quite myself. In the beginning, I attributed it to my darling, beloved Philip, who was on the mend; but still recovering physically and mentally.
My nights were oft plagued with flashbacks and vivid memories of the illness my husband was fighting, and the dreary thought of him being torn away from me despite his recovering state was enough to make me renounce sleep for that night. And the one after it. And the one after that one... well, you got the point.
But, it would seem that the better Philip got, the more my state worsened. It would now seem what I had mistaken for suffering of love is not that, but a product of love indeed. I slowly rose from my bed in my chamber and crossed the beautiful hallway floor to Charity's room, deciding I needed to talk to the kind woman and seek her help and guidance once more; as she was more of a mother to me than my own.
I hesitantly knocked on her chamber door and asked. "Charity, may I please come in?"
At once, her melodious and warm voice filled my ears, her smile detectable through the door.
"Of course, my dear. Are you alright?" she added that last inquiry after searching my worried, and admittedly a bit pale face. I was divided. I entered the room, seeing Charity working on a complicated embroidery project as I sat down in the wooden chair facing her.
Even before I could say this was a fact and not just a suspicion; one part of me was ecstatic and the other a bundle of nerves. Even with Charity by my side, I could not bear to face this, to experience this, without my husband. Charity brought me out of my increasingly dark thoughts
"Are you alright, Anne? What seems to be the matter? Philip will be just fine."
Hoping and praying she was right, I spoke; not above a whisper. "Charity, I do believe I am with child."