Chapter 3: Two pink lines 

Vivienne POV

Maple Hollow Fertility Clinic looked the way I had pictured it: a quiet street, a small building, nothing flashy. 

The scent of coffee and disinfectant met me at the door, and soft piano music drifted through the waiting room. I hadn't realized how tense I was until my shoulders relaxed.

The receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled. "Good morning. You must be Vivienne."

"I am."

"Welcome to Maple Hollow."

She asked for my identification and insurance card, typed something into her computer, then handed them back. "You're a little early, which is perfect. Someone will be with you shortly."

"Thank you."

I took a seat and looked around the waiting room. Several women were already there. Some sat beside their husbands, talking quietly, while others were alone, scrolling through their phones or staring silently out the windows.

Looking around, I realized I wasn't the only person carrying fears that couldn't be seen.

A few minutes later, a nurse stepped into the waiting room. "Vivienne?"

I stood and walked over. She smiled warmly. "I'm Grace." She shook my hand before motioning toward the hallway. "Come with me."

I followed her through a bright corridor lined with photographs of babies. Beneath every picture was a handwritten thank you note from grateful parents.

Some were only a sentence long, while others filled entire cards. Without thinking, I slowed to read them as we walked.

"Thank you for making our family possible."

"Our miracle turned three today."

"We'll never forget what you gave us."

Grace glanced back and smiled. "We've been collecting those for years."

"They're beautiful."

"They're my favorite part of working here," she admitted. "Whenever we have a difficult day, these remind us why we do this."

I smiled before I even realized it. "They're already reminding me not to lose hope."

"I'm glad."

She opened the door to a private consultation room. "Have a seat." A thick stack of paperwork rested neatly on the desk.

"I'm sorry about all the forms," Grace said with an apologetic smile. "Legal requirements. They look worse than they really are."

I laughed. "I've filled out job applications that were shorter."

Grace laughed with me. "I believe it."

She prepared a small tray beside me. "Before we begin, I'll need a blood sample."

I rolled up my sleeve. The needle barely stung.

Grace labeled the vial before holding it toward the light for a brief moment. A small crease formed between her eyebrows.

"Hmm..."

She turned the vial once, then gave a tiny shake of her head. "Never mind." She placed it carefully into the tray.

I waited for an explanation, but she only smiled. "Take your time with the paperwork. I'll come back when you're finished."

After she left, I picked up the first form. It asked for my medical history, family history, medications, previous pregnancies, allergies, and emergency contacts, and every answer reminded me how much my life had changed in only a week.

Then I reached the section marked Relationship Status. Only days ago, I had been planning my wedding. Now I was filling out forms to become a single mother.

Slowly, I checked the box beside Single. The ache in my chest was still there, but it no longer controlled me.

I finished the rest of the forms and set my pen down. A gentle knock sounded at the door.

Grace stepped back inside carrying my file. "All finished?"

"I think so."

She looked through the paperwork and nodded. "Everything looks good." She sat across from me. "Have you given any thought to the kind of donor you'd like?"

"I have."

"What are you looking for?"

"I'd like an anonymous human donor."

She nodded. "No wolf donor?"

"No."

"May I ask why?"

I took a moment before answering. "I've seen what happens when people care more about bloodlines than family. I don't want my child growing up with pack expectations or old rivalries hanging over them. I just want a normal, peaceful life."

Grace's expression softened. "That's completely understandable." She reached into a drawer and placed several donor profiles on the desk. "Every donor has passed extensive medical, genetic, and psychological screening. Take your time."

I opened the first profile, which belonged to a successful businessman. The second belonged to a surgeon, and the third to a software engineer with a long list of awards.

Each profile was impressive. None of them felt right.

Then another folder caught my eye. A thirty two year old elementary school teacher. Excellent health. No family history of serious illness. He spent his weekends volunteering at a children's reading program.

I found myself smiling. Grace noticed. "I think that one speaks to you."

I nodded. "He doesn't have the most impressive résumé."

"No."

"But he sounds kind."

Grace waited for me to continue. "He teaches children every day. Then he spends his free time helping more children learn to read."

I looked down at the page again. "I don't need my child to inherit genius or success. I'd rather they inherit kindness."

Grace smiled warmly. "I wish more people thought the way you do."

"I'd like this donor."

She picked up the file and made a note. "I think you've made an excellent choice."

She explained the next steps carefully, making sure I understood every stage of the process before asking me to sign the final consent forms. Once everything was complete, she closed the folder. "We're all set."

"When will the procedure be?"

"This afternoon, if you're still ready."

The question caught me off guard. "So soon?"

She nodded. "All your test results are in order, and your cycle is right where we'd hoped it would be. There's no reason to wait."

I took a slow breath. Everything had happened so quickly. A week ago, I couldn't have imagined sitting in a clinic choosing a stranger's file instead of a wedding dress. Now I was preparing to become a mother on my own.

I rested my hand on the folder in front of me before meeting Grace's eyes. "I'm ready."

Grace smiled and stood. "Then let's get you checked in."

The procedure itself was far less frightening than I had imagined. The medical team explained every step before they did anything. They spoke calmly, answered every question I had, and never made me feel rushed. Before I knew it, everything was over.

Grace handed me a folder containing my aftercare instructions. "You may have some mild cramping today," she said. "Get plenty of rest, drink lots of water, and try not to worry."

I smiled. "I'll do my best."

She smiled back. "We'll schedule a blood test in two weeks, but many patients also take a home pregnancy test around that time. Either way, we'll see you again soon."

"Thank you."

Outside, I paused for a moment, letting the afternoon sun warm my face. The future still frightened me, but hope finally outweighed my fear.

*****

Two weeks later, I stood in the tiny bathroom of my motel room, staring at a pregnancy test resting on the edge of the sink. I hadn't been able to wait for the clinic's blood test.

My phone sat beside the test, counting down the final seconds. I clasped my hands together to stop them from shaking.

The alarm buzzed. My heart hammered against my ribs. I looked down.

Two pink lines.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Then my knees gave way.

I sank onto the closed toilet lid, covering my mouth as tears blurred my vision. It had worked.

After everything that had happened, the heartbreak, the disappointment, and the fear, I was pregnant.

A shaky laugh escaped me. "I did it." My hand drifted to my stomach. "Hi, little one."

The words sounded strange, but they filled the tiny bathroom with a happiness I hadn't felt in weeks.

The first person I called was my sister. She answered on the second ring. "Vivienne? Is everything okay?"

I tried to answer, but my voice broke. She grew quiet. "Vivienne?"

"I'm pregnant."

Silence. Then she screamed so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Oh my God!" She started laughing almost as hard as I was crying. "I knew it! I knew it would work!"

"I still can't believe it."

"I can. You're going to be an amazing mother."

For the next several minutes, she talked excitedly about baby names, tiny clothes, and how spoiled her future niece or nephew was going to be. Listening to her laugh made me laugh too.

The weight I'd been carrying since walking in on Draven finally began to lift.

Before we ended the call, her voice softened. "You should tell Grandma."

"I will."

A brief silence followed. "You know, Grandma always gets strange whenever anyone asks about Mom's side of the family."

I frowned. "I remember."

"When we were kids, she'd always change the subject."

"I thought it was because losing Mom was still too painful."

"Maybe." She didn't sound convinced. "Anyway," she said, her cheerful tone returning, "call me after you tell her."

"I will."

After we hung up, I lay back on the motel bed with one hand resting gently over my stomach. There wasn't any visible bump yet.

My reflection hadn't changed, but my whole world had. Instead of thinking about everything I had lost, I found myself imagining everything that was waiting for me.

Tiny fingers wrapped around mine. First birthdays. School plays. Bedtime stories. A little laugh filling a home that had once felt painfully quiet.

I smiled as a quiet promise took root in my chest. I wasn't going to raise this child with lies or broken promises. My baby would know they were wanted from the very beginning.

That thought stayed with me as sleep slowly pulled me under.

My phone rang just as I was drifting off. The unfamiliar number almost made me ignore it. Almost.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Vivienne Marsh?"

I recognized the voice immediately. It was Grace.

"Yes?"

"I'm so sorry to call this late."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and I sat upright before I understood why. The smile faded from my face. "Is something wrong?"

A long silence stretched between us. When Grace finally spoke again, her voice trembled. "We need you to come to the clinic first thing tomorrow morning."

My fingers tightened around the phone. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid I can't explain it over the phone."

My stomach dropped, a slow, sick lurch, like missing a stair in the dark. "Is... is something wrong with the baby?"

"I really need you to come in as early as you can."

"Grace..."

"Please."

The fear in her voice chilled me. "I'll be there."

"Thank you."

The call ended. I lowered the phone slowly and sat alone in the darkness, one hand pressed protectively against my stomach.

Grace hadn't sounded concerned or merely worried. She had sounded frightened.

Whatever was waiting for me at Maple Hollow Clinic, I knew it wasn't good. I didn't sleep that night.