Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
By the time he’s finished typing his notes out, I manage to find my voice. “How could this have happened? I mean, I know how it happened,” I quickly mumble, my cheeks burning. “But I've been taking my birth control pills consistently.”
“Sometimes, it happens that way. There are a number of reasons why your pills may have failed. Have you been on any type of medication? How has your health been otherwise?”
I shrug. “It’s been fine, I guess.”
How am I supposed to remember? I’m still alive, so I guess well enough for my heart to keep beating. All I can do is stare at this man and wait for the news to sink in.
It hasn’t yet.
Not even close.
He offers a sympathetic little smile. “I understand. These types of things are the reason birth control can never be viewed as one-hundred percent effective. No matter what, you have plenty of time to make a well-thought-out decision.
“Thank you.” The fact is, I have a difficult time thinking that far into the future. I am barely able to think past this moment, and my lungs seem to be shrinking, refusing to accept the oxygen I’m providing them. I'm pregnant. There is another human growing inside me. A human that is made up of both Callum and me. It’s both wonderful and terrifying.
The doctor leaves me to get dressed, which I do on autopilot. How can I think of anything but the life growing inside me? It wasn't supposed to be like this. There was supposed to be time to plan and decide. I guess that was a childish assumption. These things happen all the time. It just never occurred that it could happen to me. Yes, I know the risk of having sex, but I was already taking all the steps to protect myself.
Panic spears me while I’m halfway through zipping my dress, my hands trembling. Oh, my God, what is Callum going to think? Sure, he's been saying that he wants me to have his child since the beginning, though he didn't say right away. Not, like, immediately.
Not while my father still hates him and thinks he killed Mom. Not when we are finally getting back to normal. This is not the kind of situation I want to bring my child into. My child, who I hadn't even dreamed of yet.
I’m going to be sick.
Breathe in. Breathe out. One thing at a time.
There’s no option. I have to tell him the truth. That's all. We'll get through it together. He did say he wanted a baby, so there’s hope in that. This doesn't have to be a bad thing; full of apologies and explanations. It can be a happy announcement.
The doctor wants to see me for an ultrasound in a month or so, I head to check out at reception and make the appointment. It's like I'm a robot, doing what needs to be done on the surface while trying like hell not to freak out on the inside. That can't be good for a baby—all the stress. Good Lord, I already have to think for the two of us. This is insane.
A baby.
I'm going to have a baby. It's so surreal that I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's so weird.
I wonder if everybody in the waiting room can see my shell-shocked expression for what it is as I make a beeline for the door. How many girls have left this office feeling as I do now? I should’ve asked Tatum to come—no, on the other hand, I’m not sure I want her to know yet. I don’t want anybody to know.
Right now, I can be happy about it. It's our secret, mine and the baby’s. And until the rest of the world finds out, I can feel about it in any way I want to.
How do I feel? Scared as hell. I'm a little disappointed that it has to happen this way with so much drama surrounding us. I want to be happy. I want to have hope.
I’m having a baby.
I’m in such a rush to get to my car for one peaceful moment and think about all the revelations when I bump into another person. Shit. I lift my gaze with an apology on the tip of my tongue, only it never slips off. Not when the individual on the receiving end is the last person to deserve an apology. Amanda sneers at me, her gaze dragging over my body, judging me.
“Look who it is.”
“Amanda, I'm not in the mood for you.” Like I didn't already have enough on my mind. Like she's not part of the reason for the friction between Callum and me.
“Now, who could you be here to see?” She removes her sunglasses, giving me a sharper view of her narrowed eyes. The woman is pure evil. It rolls off her in waves; icy, cold waves. “You look too healthy for the cardiologist.”