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Chapter 24
Grace
Thiscannotbehappening.In no world is this my new beginning. “Seriously!” I screech, staring at the man across from me.
“I assure you, I don’t often joke around with my patients about this.”
I look to the ceiling, summoning God, or my self-control. “I cannot be pregnant. This has got to be some sick joke.”
Not for nothing, but it seems unfair to tell a woman she’s pregnant while she’s wearing a white piece of paper that barely covers her ass. I want to jump up and storm out of here, but I can’t very well do that with my ass cheeks hanging out.
This isn’t a rom-com. I’m not here for everyone’s entertainment. My life is currently spiraling out of control, and I can’t help but think this sounds like one of Marion’s romance novels. The girl always gets pregnant after the breakup. It’s like science. Except it’s not. Because science says that when you use birth control you don’t get pregnant. Of course when your ex-husband is a psychopath who screws with your birth control, science doesn’t win.
What the fuck!
“If you give me a few minutes I can tell you how far along you are.”
I laugh. It’s a maniacal shout of a laugh. “Ha. Ha! I don’t need a damn test to tell me how pregnant I am. Iknowhow pregnant I am.”
I hate my life.
“It’s really not good for you to be getting this worked up. Your blood pressure…”
I shoot him a look telling him he doesn’t want to finish that sentence. For a few minutes I just need peace and quiet. I need a second to get a handle on this insane situation.
I’m pregnant. I’m a divorced, pregnant lady. Woman? Lady. It sounds better. I’m also probably losing my mind just a bit right now.
My phone rings, and I glance down even though the last thing I should be worried about is work, or men, or Tessa, or whoever is calling me right now. But somehow when I see it’s Hayden, I feel my blood pressure return to normal. He’s my one good thing.
“Hey,” I squeak into the phone as the doctor looks at me with an annoyed expression. Whatever, he’s just upended my world; he can give me a minute.
“Hey love, how is your day going?”
Ha. How’s my day going? Just peachy, my little British friend. I sigh far too loudly, and the doctor shakes his head. “I’m having a day. How about you?”
“I was hoping to take you to dinner tonight?”
I smile at his request. Hayden’s voice always leaves me smiling. I love his British accent so much.
“I’m not sure I’d make great company,” I admit. Besides, we always drink together. He enjoys ordering expensive bottles of wine, and I enjoy drinking them. I’m not sure how I will be able to beg off not having a drink without raising suspicions, and I am not sure I’m prepared to divulge this news. I haven’t even come to terms with it myself.
The doctor motions for me to hang up. “I’m sorry, Hayden, I’m in the middle of an appointment. Can I take a raincheck?”
“I just want to see you. How about I bring takeaway to your place?”
I laugh at his terminology. “Fine. We can get takeout. I’ll see you around seven?”
“Sounds wonderful, love. See you then.”
With a smile still plastered on my face, I hang up the phone. “Okay, you can perform whatever tests you need now. I’m ready.”
The doctor smiles. “I know it’s a lot to digest and we can obviously discuss options—”
I cut him off before he finishes. “No,” I say resolutely. “I’m having this baby.” I’m surprised by how firm I sound. How saying the words doesn’t set me off the way it did only moments before.
Truthfully, I know it will be okay. I’m a thirty-six-year-old woman with a good job, a home, and a wonderful support system. I can handle this.
Back at my apartment, I slide off my heels and rub my feet. I’m not that far along; I can’t possibly already have swollen feet. It’s likely just in my head. Or these heels.
