Page 147 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

I press my fingers against my forehead, trying to think.

“I don’t know. Maybe a few days. The pharmacy had an issue with the prescription.”

“And did you miss any pills when you started the new pack?”

“I might have.” My throat tightens.

“I was traveling constantly. Boston. New York. Then Italy.”

She nods gently.

“A lapse during a transition can reduce protection, especially if pills were missed or started late.”

Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them.

My doctor leans forward slightly.

“Was this pregnancy planned?”

I laugh once, but there is no humor in it.

“No.”

The word comes out broken.

I wipe beneath one eye with the side of my hand.

“How far along am I?”

“Based on your last cycle and the bloodwork, approximately six weeks.”

Six weeks.

My entire body goes cold.

I stop hearing whatever she says next.

Six weeks takes me backward immediately.

Not Italy.

Not Lake Como.

Boston.

The hotel room.

Julian.

I grip the edge of the examination table.

“Six weeks?”

“Approximately,” she confirms.

“We’ll schedule an ultrasound to date the pregnancy more precisely.”

I nod because I understand the words individually, even though none of them seem to belong to my life.