It was the morning of the conference. Almost everyone in the house was sleeping peacefully, except for Jasmine, who was having a difficult morning. She felt hot, her lower stomach hurt badly, and she was uncomfortable all around. Jasmine tried to relax in the bathroom, hoping it would help, but that only made her feel more uncomfortable and frustrated.
Jasmine sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly at the wall. She had no appetite, and her body felt uncharacteristically drained and fatigued. A nagging sense of dehydration troubled her, though she couldn't quite understand why—she had been sipping water throughout the night, hoping it would prevent the overwhelming drowsiness that surrounded her.
Today was undoubtedly the worst possible day to feel under the weather. It was her father's conference, a fulfillment of hard work and dedication that he poured into. Jasmine was determined not to miss a single moment of it. She felt a surge of pride for all that he had accomplished; her father's determination in organizing such a significant event inspired her. Jasmine and her mother had always been Jackie's number one supporters, cheering him on every step of the way. So, despite her discomfort, she resolved that nothing was going to keep her from attending the conference.
She took her prenatal vitamins with a glass of water and stepped outside, hoping a breath of fresh air and the warmth of the sun would awaken her weary spirit. As she wandered the garden, absorbing the beauty of the vibrant flowers that surrounded her, Paul began to change positions. Something felt off; he blinked sleepily and, feeling Jasmine's absence, he became immediately concerned. After searching through every room in the guesthouse, he stepped outside and inhaled and then exhaled, a sigh of relief came upon him after spotting his wife among the flowers, lost in thought.
"Baby, are you okay? I've been looking all over for you, and here you are, outside at six in the morning, admiring the flowers!" His voice was full of concern, a protective instinct kicking in.
Jasmine quickly masked her discomfort with a faint smile, determined not to worry him. "I'm fine, baby. I was just reminiscing about my grandma. I came out to look at her garden because I miss her so much," she replied softly, her gaze lingering on the petals that reminded her of Dorothy's nurturing spirit.
Paul took her hand, circling it in his own, feeling the chill of her skin against his. "I know you miss her. She was an incredible woman," he said, his voice soothing yet filled with an undercurrent of concern. "But, sweetheart, are you sure that's all that's bothering you? You're looking a bit pale."
Jasmine hadn't realized how visibly her condition was affecting her. She acknowledged her fatigue but hoped it wouldn't betray her outward appearance. A gentle nod was her only response, wishing he might let the matter drop. Yet, to her surprise, he pressed on.
"Jasmine, baby, why are you lying to me? I can tell something's off. Talk to me. I'm your husband—we shouldn't keep secrets from each other."
His seriousness weighed on her, and Jasmine sighed, torn between the desire to cover up her secret about her being pregnant. She didn't won't to ruin the surprise. But he was right, and deep down, she knew it was time to come clean about what was really going on.
"Baby, you're right. I have been keeping something from you. I was going to surprise you on your birthday, but I don't think I can wait. I'm pregnant, baby. We're finally going to be parents. The morning sickness has been making me feel horrible."
Paul was so excited—he jumped up and shouted, "Yes!" He hugged Jasmine tightly, but in the middle of the hug, she became weak and almost collapsed. Paul caught her just in time. Looking into her eyes, he could tell something was seriously wrong.
He carried her inside and helped her into bed. "Baby, do you need to go to the hospital? You don't look good at all."
