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I spent too much time in doctors’ offices and hospitals when I was sick. I hated every minute of it and even though I know I have to have regular check-ups, I don’t rush to make them.

“Do I have the flu?” I ask as Dr. Sadie Reynolds rounds her desk. She’s older than I am by a few years. Her long brown hair is braided to the side and her blue eyes are trained on the tablet in her hands. “My assistant is convinced that I have the flu.”

“It’s not the flu,” she says with little emotion. “It’s not that at all.”

I wait until she’s sitting behind her desk before I ask the next obvious question. “It is something though?”

She nods silently.

My stomach clenches in disbelief. I feel fine. I may have been nauseous on a couple of occasions and I had that near fainting spell at Evan’s apartment, but none of that was serious enough to warrant the concerned look on her face.

She knows my entire medical history. She’s a general practitioner but she’s taken the time to understand all of my medical challenges to date.

“What is it?”

She closes the tablet and places it on her desk. “Chloe, I’m a firm believer in miracles.”

I feel tears in the corners of my eyes. This can’t be happening. I can’t be sick again. I have a life now and a future.

“How bad is it?” I whisper the words as I drop my head. “Just tell me how bad it is.”

“Some people will tell you that the terrible twos are the worst, but my son is inching toward being a pre-teen and the attitude can spin my head around.”

I look up and into her face. She’s smiling. Why is she smiling?

“I’m sorry about your son but I don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

She rests her hands in the center of her desk and swallows hard. “You’re pregnant, Chloe. You’re going to have a baby.”

Chapter 30

Evan

I spot her sitting at a corner table when I walk into the Roasting Point Café. This is the first morning I’ve been able to pull myself away from the hospital in days. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen Chloe.

I’m mildly surprised that she hasn’t shown up on my doorstep again. I half-expected her to and it’s possible that she has. I’m rarely home and since there’s no doorman, I have no idea if she’s been around or not.

As much as I’m craving a cup of coffee, I don’t stop to order one. I’m too anxious to see Chloe. I want to touch her and kiss her.

Most of all, I just want to hold her hand and gaze into those gorgeous hazel eyes.

She looks up as I approach and I can sense that something is wrong immediately. She’s bundled up tightly in a wool coat even though temperatures are spring like today. Her eyes are sullen and dark. I can tell that she was crying at some point this morning.

“Chloe,” I whisper her name under my breath as I reach for her.

She doesn’t stand. Instead she leans toward me and squeezes my hand briefly before she drops it.

I don’t question what that’s about. Instead, I take a seat next to her, tugging the wooden chair across the tile floor until our knees are touching.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” I ask immediately as I circle my hand around her shoulder.

She looks into my eyes before her gaze drops again. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“What happened?”

“I can do this. I know I can and I want to. I really want to but I’m so scared.”

I skim my fingers over her cheek to catch a tear. “You can tell me what’s going on, Chloe. I want to help you but I can’t do that if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

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