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He looked at me like I was stupid, and after a moment, realization dawned.
“Oh. Those are for the baby,” I said.
“Yes,” he responded.
“I see,” I said, finding myself drifting to what had turned out to be my favorite spot in this room of suites.
“What is it, Amethyst?” he said.
I realized I was chewing on my lip, and stopped, then I turned to face him. “I like Dr. Mueller,” I said.
“I do too,” he responded.
“I want him to deliver the baby,” I said.
That was one thing that was preoccupying my thoughts.
Not the only thing, but one that I could address now. And I had felt a comfort and connection with Dr. Mueller that I hadn’t with any of my other providers, not even the midwife who had done my first ultrasound.
I’d given up on the idea of developing a real relationship with my doctor, but that might be in reach now.
“Then we’ll stay here,” he said.
“That’s it?” I blinked with confusion.
“Would you prefer I put up a fight?” he said.
“No, but you said we were going to Armenia,” I said.
“Yes, that was the plan. But if you want the baby to be born here, we’ll stay.”
I snorted. “Why do I feel like not everything is going to be this easy?”
“Because it won’t be,” he responded. “But this is simple enough. So this is what we’ll do.”
“Uh…thanks,” I responded.
He smiled, the expression genuine, making my heart skip a beat, sending a surge of heat lower.
I rushed to my favorite chair, needing to put distance between us.
“Dinner?” he asked several hours later.
I nodded, and he ordered dinner.
We ate in a silence that I would call comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly that. Mostly, I was stunned that we had managed to reach an agreement relatively easily.
Told myself that that wouldn’t continue.
There was no way it could.
But then I decided to accept it, not look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I’m tired,” I said sometime after dinner.
“Me too,” he responded.
I went to the bathroom, showered, and then lay down in the bed.
