The Seven-Week Difference
Preston blinked. “Twenty-one?”
Dr. Reeves nodded. “That is the approximate gestational age suggested by today’s measurements. There can be some variation, but not usually seven weeks.”
Brielle stared at the screen.
Marcy was the first person to understand what that meant. “Wait.” She looked at Preston. Then at Brielle. “You two weren’t together twenty-one weeks ago.”
Preston’s face changed. “We were talking.”
Brielle turned quickly toward him. “Preston, this isn’t the place.”
But Randall had already taken out his phone. “Twenty-one weeks ago was early February.”
Colleen whispered, “Preston was in Phoenix for the trade convention almost that entire week.”
Brielle sat up slightly. “Pregnancy dates aren’t exact.”
Dr. Reeves answered carefully. “That’s true. Dating is an estimate. But I recommend discussing the timeline with your regular obstetric provider if there are questions.”
Preston stopped looking at the monitor. He looked only at Brielle.
“You told me this happened after Valentine’s Day.”
She said nothing.
“Brielle.”
“I said I believed it did.”
Marcy folded her arms. Just an hour earlier, she had stood beside me in the mediator’s office and acted as though I were an unwanted chapter of her brother’s life. Now her voice sounded very different.
“Believed?”
The room filled with awkward silence. Dr. Reeves stepped away politely and gave the family space. For the first time since the pregnancy announcement, nobody was celebrating the Hale heir.
