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The memories of life at sea pulled at her physically, too, and every now and then a wash of nausea would still hit her as if she’d just left the boat.
After a week, she had to finally admit her seasickness wasn’t going away—and that it might be something else. Something much worse. She made a lunchtime appointment with a doctor near the office.
“So, you’re not feeling well? Tell me what’s not right,” the doctor said, flicking her long hair out of the way of her note pad.
“I’ve just come off working on a ship for six years,” Michaela began.
“Wow, that must be a big change.”
“Well, yeah, but I just don’t feel right. It’s been well over a week. I should have gotten over any issues with seasickness by now, shouldn’t I? I mean, I’ve had a few bouts with my land legs deserting me in the past, but it’s never lasted more than a day or two.”
“Hmm, yes. I would have thought you’d be feeling better by now,” the doctor said as she nodded her head.
“I’m just a bit nervous that I’ve picked up some weird tropical bug. We were always warned about it on board, and there was hand cleanser everywhere to try and stop the spread of any type of germs. You can imagine what it’s like if a stomach bug hits a ship of three thousand people with nowhere to go.”
“I hate to think. Tell me more about your symptoms.”
Michaela detailed the jet lag feelings, the nausea, and her general dislocation. But when she’d finished the doctor didn’t look at all perturbed—quite the opposite. She gave Michaela a gentle smile. “I can’t rule out the tropical bug possibility unless we do some tests, but there might be a more simple issue. When was your last cycle?”
“Cycle?”
“Your period. When did you last have one?”
“I don’t know,” Michaela said, growing more worried. This couldn’t be… Swallowing hard, she bit her lip. “I’ve been pretty irregular lately. But I don’t see what—”
“Could you be pregnant?”
The words that should have come out of Michaela’s mouth remained stuck, hard pellets of hope and fear and wonder in her throat. Could she be pregnant? The answer was one she didn’t really want to contemplate. But Dylan’s face in their Vanuatu hideaway flashed into her mind. They’d been caught up in the moment at first, but…
“No, I’ve always used protection.”
“Always?”
“Pretty much,” she said.
“Given that wasn’t an emphatic ‘yes,’ I think it would be simplest if we ruled out pregnancy first before we start doing any more complicated tests for a tropical parasite. Do you think you could pop along the hall and get a sample? Then we’ll do a test. I imagine you know what I mean.” The doctor opened a drawer and held out a small cup along with a thin package, its transparent strip revealing a slender plastic stick with a pink tip. Michaela paled.
“I, um, do you really think? Perhaps I could do it at home.”
“I think you should take a test now. If you’ve been feeling this way for a while and you are pregnant, we’ll want to check how far along you are.”
“I can’t be pregnant.”
“Then all we’ll get is a negative result. Nothing to worry about.”
Michaela bit a nail. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe if she closed her eyes…
When she opened them, the doctor gave her a concerned smile. “It’s best to find out one way or the other.”
“I just…I really have to get back to work.” Flustered, she looked down at her wrist before remembering she hadn’t worn a watch. Idiot.
The doctor sighed. “If I give you a test to take home, do you promise to take it?”
Michaela nodded.
“Okay. If you’re sure you have to go now.”
“I do.”
Michaela took the test and stuffed the package and its intimidating pink-tipped contents into her bag quickly before the woman changed her mind.
“Here, you better take a couple in case one isn’t clear.”
Michaela nodded, lost for words. After she’d accepted the tests, she left the doctor’s surgery at a near run.
Pregnant?
She couldn’t be. Not when she had only just started this job and her supervisors were so happy with her progress. Not when she hardly knew anyone in this town.
And definitely not without Dylan, a tiny voice in her head said.
What were the chances of that moment of overwhelming desire leading to a baby? Practically nonexistent. Infinitesimal.
Impossible.
They’d used a condom when it counted.
“I’m not pregnant,” she reassured herself. “It’s just my land legs taking longer to come back. I was at sea for a long time. I’ll be fine soon.”
Once decided, Michaela relegated the very possibility of a baby firmly to the bottom of her bag along with the pregnancy tests. They had used protection, after all.
They had, they had, they had. She repeated the mantra over and over under her breath on her walk back to the office.
By the time she got there, she believed it.
That afternoon she’d planned to tidy up the old files on her computer desktop. Each folder had around a hundred files in it, and Michaela was immersed for hours, working out what each file related to and undoing the complicated muddle of other people’s thoughts to make a proper system. Then she clicked on a file marked “dance team,” and without warning the words Dylan Johns jumped out at her. Her heart picked up its tempo. Putting her hands on her desk, Michaela pushed herself away from the computer and stood up. She walked away from the name on her screen and tried to calm the thud of her blood.
You were going to read something about him sooner or later. You probably have the personnel files of every dancer who ever worked for Adventurer Cruises on your computer.
That didn’t mean she had to look at them.
Moving through the simple act of making a cup of peppermint tea, Michaela took long breaths in and out. Breathe in, breathe out, you’re in control, you’re in charge.
But back at her desk, Dylan’s name stood out as if it were typed in bold, italicized, and underlined. Just for a moment, Michaela let the name bring back a wash of memory…
Dylan looking down at her as they stood together bathed in a tropical sunset. Dylan bursting out of the water, a giant clamshell in his hand and a brilliant smile on his face. Dylan’s sated green eyes looking down at her as they lay under the gossamer white drapes of their Vanuatu resort bed.
