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Her voice is shaky when she speaks up. “Harrison, hear me out. I know you and I have some intense history in the past, but I’m sorry, this friendship can’t continue.”
Taking a moment to process her words, I’m not sure I’m ready to realize the meaning.
“Charlee, what are you saying, exactly?” I say, a tiny laugh rolls out with my words.
Charlee swallows hard. “I’m saying that we can’t be seen around each other anymore outside of work matters. It’ll be a bigger dent to your reputation if you’re battling this lawsuit and someone from the other teams gets wind of this… affair that had brewed between us. I’m removing myself from the equation. Let’s keep it purely professional, please.”
Charlee's eyes grow bigger with each second.
I can see her struggling to hold back tears, and I want very badly to hug her and tell her to forget everything she just said in the past second.
But then she’s walking away, strutting out of my office and heading straight for the stairs.
Heading back to my seat, I flop down with total resignation.
A cocktail of emotions spurs through my mind at the same time.
Shock.
Confusion.
Denial.
Rage.
And finally, fear.
I’m at the brink of losing everything. Building Bridges has successfully slipped out of my control in the past month, and there’s little I can do to control the situation. My family probably regrets ever giving me a shot at leadership.
And now, the one thing that’s actually good in my life, Charlee, has recused herself from me.
The migraine finally slams through my forehead in one swell move, splitting to the back of my skull and causing my eyes to ache.
It’s going to be one hell of a rough week for me.
I’m certain of that.
19
CHARLEE
One thing I love about Dr. Henderson is the homeliness of her office.
It looks more like a therapist’s set-up than the typical OB/GYN office, where the walls are usually an intimidating white shade. Dr. Henderson has soft tones of warm beige and light brown, and there’s this calmness that settles over me whenever I walk into her office.
Having a kind OB/GYN has been a blessing to me so far. Dr. Henderson is elderly and accommodating, and I appreciate how she insists we talk at the sofa instead of the office table. She serves cookies and ginger tea for both of us and holds my hands when I get too scared to answer any question.
“How’s the nausea now? Are the headaches still bothering you?”
Shaking my head, I take a sip of the sweet tea and put it back down.
“No, not so much anymore. I might feel nauseous like once or twice a week now, and the headaches don’t bother me as much. Those supplements you gave me were really helpful.”
Dr. Henderson smiles and opens her notepad. In the glow of the morning sun coming in from the window facing us, her salt-and-pepper hair has a silver shine to it that gives me waterfall vibes. She’s one of those lucky souls that age like fine wine.
“Are you taking your pre-natal vitamins every day?” she asks, taking notes with her gold-tipped pen.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I’m almost finished with my current prescription.” If my pregnancy had been a planned one, ideally, I should have started the folic acid routine a month before taking it.
