If Zonnique had dropped dead right there in that office, I probably would’ve checked my watch before her pulse. That’s how pissed I was. The only reason she’d lasted that long was because I thought her body could give me the one thing I needed. Turns out she was just a beautifully wrapped malfunction.
I stepped out into the sunlight with my temper riding my back. My driver hurried to open the car door, but I waved him off and kept walking. We were an hour out from the city, so I wasn’t going far. I just needed some air and space far enough to keep from choking the next person who said sorry like it came with a solution.
If Zonnique couldn’t give me what the family required, then she no longer had a place in the plan. Simple as that. Fortunately for me, I still had time to produce an heir.
Zonnique was never my only option; she was simply the first one that failed.
Chapter three
Zonnique Guidry
“I’m so sorry about that,” I apologized quickly, bending down to help Dr. Fairchild gather the scattered papers that Merge had knocked across the floor.
I could feel my voice trembling with anxiety, even as I forced myself to sound composed.
“He’s just … under a lot of pressure,” I added, trying to make excuses for him.
Dr. Fairchild hands were still trembling as he picked up the last few sheets.
“It’s fine, Miss Guidry. Mr. Belvior is… a very direct man.”
“That’s a polite way of saying he’s a nightmare before breakfast,” I muttered, trying to inject some humor into the situation, but my laugh fell flat.
When the last sheet hit his desk, I straightened up, smoothing my dress.
“Dr. Fairchild, how accurate are those results? I mean, five percent? That’s practically zero in my situation.”
Dr. Fairchild released a long, slow breath, as if he was bracing himself for what he had to say next.
“The scans and hormone panels are conclusive, Miss Guidry. The scar tissue is significantly hindering successful implantation.” He paused, his voice steady but noticeably gentler. “And if I’m being completely honest withyou, based on what I saw in your imaging and lab results, there’s almostnochance of a successful pregnancy—naturally or through IVF. Even if the embryo did implant, the environment of the uterus is hostile. I would strongly advise you to consider a surrogate.”
My face fell and lips parted. I wanted to respond, but nothing came out.
Dr. Fairchild rubbed a hand down his jaw, clearly uneasy. “I didn’t say this while Mr. Belvior was in the room,” he added, voice lowering to a cautious whisper,“because frankly… he’s intimidating, and I didn’t want to be the reason he lost his temper again. I just thought it was safer—for both of us—if I saved the harsher truth for a private moment.”
I rolled my neck with a slight sass in my tone. “Which is?”
He looked at me, shoulders tight with the weight of what he’d said. “I know this isn’t easy to hear,” he said carefully. “But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I allowed you to place your hopes on a five-percent chance. Under these circumstances, those odds simply aren’t reliable enough to build your plans around.”
The folder sat there on the desk between us, mocking me. A death sentence wrapped in medical jargon and test results.
Dr. Fairchild was still talking about treatment options, specialists… even hope, but I couldn’t hear him anymore. All I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, loud and frantic, like my body knew what my brain was still trying to deny.
“So basically, it’s over?” I finally asked a bit defeated.
His expression softened into that practiced sympathy doctors probably learned in medical school.
“I wouldn’t say that. There’s always science... and faith. IVF is still a strong option that many couples have successfully pursued.”
I shook my head, cutting her off. “Probably not for me, though,right?” I quipped.
He hesitated, and that pause told me everything I needed to know.
“The scarring does complicate things,” he admitted carefully. “But it’s not impossible. With the right specialist, the right protocol—”
I almost laughed.
Ten minutes ago, his ass just told me my uterine walls were so damaged that natural conception was “highly unlikely.” Now he’s talking as if IVF is some magic solution, like scarred organs would suddenly cooperate because we throw science, medication, and money at the problem.
