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‘Your husband seems very tense and worried,’ the doctor observed, checking Faith’s temperature and her pulse rate. ‘He obviously loves you very much.’
If only. Faith decided that it was best not to respond to that statement because she didn’t trust herself not to break down and sob. In a state of anxious misery, she lay still while the doctor examined her but all she really wa
nted to do was run after Raul.
They’d been in the middle of a conversation about Julieta’s pregnancy when the doctor had arrived and for some reason he’d been getting more and more exasperated with her.
She’d done her best not to cry on him or talk about the way she felt because she knew he hated that, but instead of appearing relieved and grateful for her restraint, he’d actually seemed more agitated.
This whole thing was her fault. If she’d told him that she’d lost the baby before the wedding then he never would have married her. Maybe they wouldn’t even be together.
Finding that scenario deeply depressing, Faith closed her eyes tightly and it took her a moment to realise that the doctor was speaking to her.
‘Sorry. Did you say something?’
‘I asked you when your last period was.’
Faith gave him the date. ‘Why are you asking? What does that have to do with my head injury?’
‘Because I don’t think your symptoms are anything to do with your head injury,’ the doctor mused, folding his stethoscope and putting it back into his bag. ‘I have a suspicion this is something entirely different.’
‘Well it must be something,’ Faith muttered. ‘Because I’m completely exhausted and that isn’t like me.’
‘It’s definitely something,’ the doctor said mildly. ‘When was your last period?’
Faith gritted her teeth. ‘I haven’t had one since the miscarriage.’
‘And when was the miscarriage?’
She gave the doctor the date and then turned her head away. ‘Do we really have to talk about this?’
‘If you’re asking whether it’s important then the answer is yes, I think it is.’ The doctor sat down next to her, his expression thoughtful. ‘This miscarriage—describe it.’
So Faith told him what had happened and he gave a slow nod.
‘And you didn’t see a doctor?’
‘No. It was very early on so I didn’t see the point. What could anyone have done?’ Feeling the emotion bubbling up inside her, she covered her face with her hands. ‘Can we stop talking about this? Why is it even relevant?’
‘Because I don’t think you lost that baby,’ the doctor said in a calm, clear voice. ‘In fact I’m entirely sure that you’re still pregnant.’
His words were so entirely unexpected that Faith lay still, just staring at him. ‘S-still pregnant?’
‘You had a small bleed at the time that your period was due. It happens. Far more frequently than people imagine, actually. It wasn’t a miscarriage. By my calculation you’re about three months pregnant.’
Pregnant?
She hadn’t lost the baby?
Her hand covered her flat stomach in an instinctively protective gesture and a rush of pure, perfect joy engulfed her.
And then the implications of what the doctor had just told her sank into her brain and she immediately swooped down into a dark pit of despair.
The fact that she hadn’t lost the baby was wonderful news, but she realised with a miserable, sinking heart that the doctor’s words had sounded the death knell for her relationship with Raul.
Faith walked onto the beach, bracing herself for the most difficult conversation of her life.
How would Raul respond to the news?
