It's the day of Will's Spartan Race.

I hitched a ride with Abbi since Will had to be there early for check-in, and I wanted to sleep in a little. Apparently, Will and Mark, Abbi's husband, are running partners. The two of them have ran marathons, triathlons, and Spartan races together since college.

"It's like a big jungle gym for adults to run around and play on. Only, much more intense and slightly dangerous," Abbi tells me as we situate our lounge chairs for the first leg of the race.

"They have to tackle different sections, but their overall time is what places them and crowns the winner." We both take our seats and begin munching on the popcorn and lemonade we purchased from the snack stand.

"Where are the girls?" I ask.

"Oh, they're with Mark's parents. His mom and dad are retired, and they like to get the girls every other weekend for family trips and mini-adventures." She air quotes the last part and laughs a little. "Mark’s mom is a hippie, and his dad is a retired marine. Their ideas of adventure are unlike anything you and I could conjure up."

We both laugh as she tells me some stories about Marks parents and their unorthodox ways. But I can tell she has a soft spot for them. Even before she tells me so.

"But don't get me wrong. They're great grandparents, and my girls adore them. Plus, it gives Mark and I some adult time. So long as I'm not on call, that is." She smiles.

I know her job is hectic, and the schedule she has to keep is ungodly, but Abbi loves her job, and I couldn't picture an OBGYN that I would entrust more with the baby I'm carrying. She's great at what she does.

"What does Mark do?" I don't know why it hasn't come up in conversation before now, but I don't have the slightest clue as to what her husband does for a living.

"Oh, he's a divorce attorney." My stomach sinks, and the buttery popcorn suddenly feels like a lead weight settling in the bottom of my belly.

"Are you okay? You look a little green. The bathrooms are right over there if you need to use them." She gestures with a concerned look on her face.

I hop up and head that way.

"Do you need my help?" Abbi calls out.

I throw my hand up and shake my head.

By the time I close the door to the portable toilet behind me, I'm gagging trying to hold the vomit back.

I puke ... and puke ... and puke.

When it feels as if I've puked up vital organs and there's nothing left in my abdominal cavity, I puke some more.

Finally, I'm able to wash my hands and wipe my face down before returning to my seat next to Abbi.

The thought of her husband bumping into my attorney and maybe finding out that I'm in the process of filing for a divorce is enough to ruin my good mood. I don't know what information is public and what's considered attorney client privilege.

If Will found out, he'd never forgive me. He'd assume the worst. I know he would.

"Are you all right, Kara?"

I nod, reaching for my lemonade so I can rinse my mouth out. I gurgle and then spit in the grass before taking my seat again.

"Well, your color looks a little better. Must've been the oily butter that didn't sit well with you. Do you need me to prescribe you something for nausea?" Abbi goes into doctor mode.

I smile and shake my head. "I'm all right. I don't have spells that much, and I'd really rather not become dependent on medication to keep my lunch down."

"But you don't want to get dehydrated either. If you are vomiting more than once or twice a day, then you need to come and see me at the office so we can get you something to ease your symptoms. Dehydration is dangerous during pregnancies."

"It's nothing, Abbi. I promise."

She stares at me for a minute, quietly accessing whether I'm downplaying my symptoms before she gives a reluctant nod.

The loud sound of a bullhorn has me turning in my seat to see the runners taking off.

Abbi yells and claps when Will and Mark make their way past us. They don't turn to look at us, but it's hard not to look at all the muscle on display in Will's sleeveless shirt and running shorts.

Abbi elbows me and gives me a knowing smirk. "We'll sit here until they make it through the woods and to the other side. No need to move our stuff just yet."

My stomach starts to cramp again, and I get the feeling that I'm not going to be able to sit here for much longer any way. I haven't had many bad days yet, so I guess I'm overdue.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah. I guess I've been lucky so far to have mild morning sickness. Must be catching up with me."

"Are you cramping or spotting?"

I think about it for a minute and then shake my head. "No, just indigestion type cramps. Nothing like period cramps or anything."

"Okay. That's normal. But we'll keep an eye on you throughout the day, and if you start feeling worse, just let me know."

"I will."

We move around several times throughout the day and eventually take our places next to the finish line.

By the time Will and Mark cross, they're both covered with mud, sweat, and even a little blood from cuts they managed to get throughout the course.

A woman with a water hose flags them over and then proceeds to hose them down until they're cleaned off—soaking wet but clean nonetheless.

Will walks over to us with a huge grin on his face. "I finished tenth, and Mark finished twelfth. Not bad, huh?" He reaches out a wet finger and playfully chucks my chin.

I wrinkle my nose and step away from him. "You smell," I tease.

"Oh, really?" He gets a look in his eye that has Abbi and Mark laughing before I realize what he's about to do.

Big, sweaty, wet arms wrap around me as he lifts me up and spins me around.

I squeal and giggle so hard that I nearly pee on myself. "I have to pee. Put me down. I have to pee," I yell out between fits of giggles.

He finally relents and sets me back down on my feet.

I shoot him a glare filled with mock anger and then take off toward the porta potty.

No sooner do I close the door than I throw up again.

I'm retching so hard that I have to sit down for fear of peeing on myself. I lean over to the side and puke in the small sink as I pee. When I'm finally finished peeing, I wipe ... and that's when I notice the blood.

* * *

"Look at you two," Abbi teases.

I smile but shrug off her insinuations.

When Kara walks back toward us, I can tell something is wrong. I stop talking and rush over to her. "Is everything okay?" I ask, my heart racing.

Her expression says it all. She's sickly pale, and her eyes are filled with tears. "I'm bleeding, Will."

My heart feels like it's sinking to the pit of my stomach. "Oh, god. Abbi!" I yell for my sister who comes running over, Mark right on her heels. "She's bleeding."

"Mark, get a paramedic over here," Abbi calls out.

Luckily, there are ambulances and police officers here to support the event, and it doesn't take a minute before an EMS team and an ambulance is there to load her up and take her to the hospital.

Abbi hops in the back with her, and Mark pulls on my shirt for me to follow him to his SUV. The whole trip to the hospital feels like I'm in some kind of fog. My mind can't process what is happening even though my heart is fully aware.

She's lost the baby.

I know it. I feel it deep in my gut.

And when we pull up to the ER, and Abbi rushes to me with tears in her eyes––it's confirmed.

* * *

"I feel like I've failed him," I tell Abbi. My heart heavy with grief for the baby I miscarried yesterday.

There wasn't any need for a DNC or any other procedure. I passed everything that needed to be passed, and they allowed me to come home this evening.

Twenty-four hours ... that's all it took to rearrange the small semblance of happiness I was just starting to find for myself.

"Don't think like that, Kara. Will doesn't blame you for the miscarriage; if anything, he blames himself. He keeps thinking that it was because he picked you up like he did and spun you around."

I shake my head. "I wasn't feeling right all day. I don't think that's what caused it."

"Of course, it wasn't. Sometimes, these things aren't meant to be. For whatever reason, your body decided this fetus wasn't healthy or strong enough to carry full term. Don't beat yourself up over it. You didn't do anything wrong."

I give a nod, but the expression on my face feels all wrong. Even though I'm trying to give her a grateful smile, it feels like I'm about to puke.

"You look like you're about to be sick. Do you need me to get you anything?" Abbi asks, reading my mind before I had even come to the conclusion.

"Some ginger ale would be nice." She pats me on the knee and hops up to head to the kitchen.

My body is sore, and my heart is heavy. I stare out the sunroom, feeling maudlin and beat down. I don't know why I can't catch a break. Will and I were finally becoming friends, and now it's all come to an end. I don't know how long he'll let me stay here. Since I failed to carry the baby past the first term of the pregnancy, our contract is officially null and void.

He never came to my hospital room last night.

He never called.

And he hasn't been home all day.

Abbi thinks he's processing everything that's happened and said I needed to give him time. The problem is, I feel like my time here is running out, and I don't want to leave yet. Whether I want to admit it, I've grown to care for Abbi and Will. They're like the family I never had.

I sniffle, succumbing to the depression threatening to pull me under. I sit up, curling into myself as I grieve for what could have been.

Even though it's a pipe dream, I thought that maybe ... just maybe Will was starting to care for me too. Not just an attraction but actual feelings. The kind where he would have been there to hold my hand last night as I cried myself to sleep. Even though this wasn't my biological child, it was still my baby. I never even got the chance to feel it kick or wiggle in my expanding belly.

I feel cheated. Robbed of something I only recently realized I aspired to have.

A family.

I hear Abbi approach but stop in her tracks when she sees that I'm falling apart. When she begins to move again, I hold up a hand and wave her off.

"Please. Just leave me alone. I need to be alone," I whisper through broken sobs.

I don't raise my head to see her go, but I can feel it when the air shifts and a sense of loneliness engulfs me.

I let the tears fall.

My shoulders shake and my heart feels as if it's being ripped from my chest. And then––he's there. Pulling me onto his lap and into his strong arms to hold me tight against his chest.

I sob harder. My chest cracking wide open and everything I feel pouring straight from my soul. "I'm so sorry. So sorry." The words come out garbled as I struggle to get them past my quivering lips.

His body shakes as he cries with me. "Shhh ...” He rocks me as we grieve together. My arms wrap around him, and I let him hold me. Let him take my pain as I take his. I've never had anyone be there for me like this, and it only hurts that much more to know that such a good man has lost so much. I only wanted to give him one point in his life where he was given something without having to lose so much in return.

"I tried. I'm so sorry," I cry.

"Shhh ... I know, baby. It's not your fault." I feel the heat of his breath on the top of my head and then the gentle press of his lips as he kisses my hair. "It's not your fault," he whispers brokenly. His own words caught between heart-wrenching sobs.

We hold each other like that until we both fall asleep in each other’s arms. It's a turning point for us. I don't know which direction it will take us, but I know deep down that nothing will ever be the same after this.