Isabella quickly made her way to the bathroom, gripping the sink for support as a wave of nausea hit her. She leaned over the toilet, retching quietly, the Hawaiian morning sun streaming through the window but doing little to soothe her.
When the worst of it passed, she slumped back against the wall, taking slow, shaky breaths. Her stomach still ached, and a dull, persistent throb reminded her that something wasn't right.
Sitting there, she began to reflect on the past few days — the food she had eaten, the change in environment, the stress of the wedding, and the honeymoon's excitement. But none of it quite explained the intensity of her discomfort.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen again, her mind wandering. Could it really be just the food?
Her thoughts drifted further, uncomfortably logical. She recalled when she had last had her period. The realization slowly sank in, the pieces beginning to fit together in a way she hadn't expected.
Isabella's eyes widened slightly as her heart raced. She sat there quietly for a moment, processing the possibility, the magnitude of what it could mean. The bathroom, once a place of relief, now seemed heavy with uncertainty.
This… this can't be happening. Not now, she thought, trying to steady herself.
Even as she rose from the floor and washed her face, her mind refused to quiet. Questions spun in her head, each one tugging at her with the force of a silent storm. The thought lingered — what if this wasn't just a simple stomach ache? What if it was something far more serious?