Ava’s POV.
The ticking of the heart monitor faded into a distant, underwater hum. The sterile white walls of the hospital cubicle seemed to expand and contract, suffocating me, as my mind frantically tried to process the heavy, impossible sequence of words that had just left Doctor’s mouth.
Six weeks.
My entire world collapsed into absolute, crushing ruin in the span of a single heartbeat.
I gaped at Mason, my mouth parting in a silent, horrified gasp. I didn’t know how to react. I didn't know how to breathe. Inside my chest, a violent, hysterical panic clawed at my throat, threatening to rip me apart from the inside out. The news didn't bring even a single, solitary bit of joy. No, there was no maternal instinct, no soft warmth, no sense of wonder. Instead, my heart felt like someone
