Isabella's POV
I opened my eyes to a blinding brightness, the fluorescent lights above me coming into focus as I blinked. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, and panic gripped me. The unfamiliar sterile white walls and the rhythmic beeping of machines nearby were jarring. I tried to sit up, but a dull ache shot through my body, reminding me that something wasn't right. Slowly, the events of the night began to seep back into my mind.
The event.
I had been at the event, camera in hand, as usual, capturing the glitz and glamour of New York's elite. My boss, of course, had been hounding me for the perfect shot of Ian Huxley, the media mogul. He was the star attraction of the evening, even more so now that he had his mysterious new girlfriend, Hail, on his arm. Everyone wanted a piece of that story, and I had been determined to get my angle.
But then everything had blurred. One moment, I was squeezing through a crowd to get a better shot, and the next thing I knew, I had collapsed. My chest had tightened, the world spun, and the camera slipped from my fingers. Darkness had swallowed me before I could process what was happening.
I was pulled back to the present by the sound of footsteps. I turned my head to see a woman in scrubs, a nurse I assumed, moving toward me with a soft smile on her face. She checked the monitors, barely glancing at me.
"Where am I?" My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
The nurse finally looked at me. "You're in Lenox Hill Hospital. You passed out at an event, and they brought you here. You've been out for a few hours, but you're going to be okay."
The relief was instant but short-lived. I frowned, trying to process everything. "What happened? Why did I collapse?"
"I'm not the doctor, sweetie. He'll be in shortly to explain everything."
I wanted to push her for more, but my energy was draining fast. Instead, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to explain all of this to my boss. Great, I thought sarcastically. Miss a photo op and end up in the hospital. Claire, my boss, was not going to be pleased. She was relentless and never missed an opportunity to criticize my work. I could already imagine the conversation: her disappointed sighs, the passive-aggressive comments about my "lack of commitment."
As if the universe heard my thoughts, the door opened again, and a man in a white coat entered. The doctor, I presumed. He was tall, mid-40s, with salt-and-pepper hair and an air of calm that seemed out of place with the chaos I felt inside.
"Miss Torres, I see you're awake. How are you feeling?"
I swallowed, feeling the dryness in my throat. "Confused," I admitted. "Why am I here? What happened to me?"
He gave me a reassuring smile and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Well, first things first, you collapsed due to a sudden drop in blood pressure. That, combined with stress, likely caused the fainting spell. Nothing too serious, but it's a good thing you were brought here when you were."
I nodded slowly, trying to digest the information. "But why? I've never fainted before. I mean, sure, I've been stressed—who isn't? But this… it feels like something more."
The doctor hesitated for a moment, which made my stomach twist in knots. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, and I wasn't sure I liked that. I braced myself for bad news, my mind racing through possibilities. Was it some hidden illness? Something serious?
Instead, he reached out and offered his hand. Confused, I stared at it for a moment before shaking it. His smile widened slightly, but it wasn't the kind of smile that put me at ease.
"Isabella," he began, using my first name now, "I understand this might come as a bit of a surprise, but you're pregnant."
The words hit me like a freight train. For a second, all I could do was stare at him, uncomprehending. I shook my head slightly, sure that I had misheard him.
"Pregnant?" My voice cracked. "That's impossible."
But even as I said the words, doubt began creeping in. I tried to think back—had my periods been regular? I couldn't remember the last time I'd thought about it, too wrapped up in work and the chaos of life. My breath caught as reality began to set in. This wasn't impossible. I had been seeing someone, on and off. Nothing serious, or at least, I hadn't thought it was serious. But we hadn't been particularly careful either.
The doctor nodded, his face still calm, still patient. "Yes, we ran some tests when you were admitted. The fainting spell was likely caused by the early stages of pregnancy. It can be overwhelming for the body, especially when you're under stress."
I felt like the room was closing in on me. Pregnant? Me? I wasn't even in a stable relationship. My career was my life, and I had no room for anything else. How was I supposed to raise a child when I could barely take care of myself?
"This... this can't be happening." I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead, trying to ground myself. "Are you sure? Could there be a mistake?"
The doctor shook his head gently. "I'm afraid not. You're about six weeks along, give or take."
Six weeks. I did the math in my head, trying to piece together how this could have happened, how I could have missed something so life-changing. My head was spinning, and suddenly the ache in my body felt a hundred times worse.
"What... what do I do now?" My voice was small, unsure. I had always prided myself on being in control, on being tough. But right now, I felt anything but.
The doctor stood up, his expression still kind, but professional. "That's up to you, Isabella. There are options, and I'm sure this is a lot to take in. I suggest you take some time to think about it. We can refer you to a specialist if you'd like."
I nodded numbly. Options. The word felt hollow. How had my life spiraled so quickly?