Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 124690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you scowling at me?”
“Because you are a complete neurotic and yet anytime I suggest we call Dr. Miller, you refuse. You want to tell me why?” He looks so healthy I want to punch him. But I literally have no energy. The thought of sitting up is a chore.
“I… he’s always so busy and I truly thought I was getting better,” I say, trying to sound convincing.
His blue eyes search my face and he shakes his head. “Whatever.”
Turning away from me with his phone, he asks for Dr. Miller, his soothing voice comforting. My eyes close again.
“Tess, honey? Come on, wake up.” Reluctantly I open my eyes, and my stomach immediately heaves. It’s been so long since I ate anything, I only gag a little.
Blinking in confusion, I look around the room for Reed. “Dr. Miller? What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to take some blood, honey. Then I’m going to give you an IV. You’re dehydrated. That’s why you can’t get your strength back.” He pats my hand. “This IV is going to fix you all up.” He smiles in that calm, kind way of his.
“Thank you, Dr. Miller.” Looking away as he draws my blood, I soon feel the cool fluids enter my veins. My eyes start to clear.
Dr. Miller sits at my side. “Now, Tess, how long has this been going on?” His brown eyes are so kind and understanding. I shouldn’t feel shy. After all, I’ve known Dr. Miller since I was a child.
“Um…” I ease my way into a sitting position. “Oh God, I feel better already… I guess it started about three weeks ago. Reed and I had sushi, and I threw up at the restaurant.”
“At the restaurant? Food poisoning takes a few hours, so that couldn’t have caused it.”
My cheeks heat up for the first time in a while. “Oh.” What else can I say?
“Reed says you have been unusually tired for the last couple of weeks and you’ve been throwing up?”
“I’ve been so miserable. I thought it was bad fish.”
Dr. Miller pats my hand again. “Well, that is why I’m here. Any fever?”
“I don’t think so. I guess I should have called you, but I kept thinking I would get better.”
I try to smile, but my lips are chapped.
We both turn our heads as Reed walks in carrying a paper bag. He pulls out a box of saltines. “How is she?” His beautiful eyes are full of worry.
I smile at him. “So much better already.”
Exhaling, he says, “Thank God. You were scaring me. Did you tell Dr. Miller you have been throwing up off and on for about a month and a half?”
“I have not. It’s only been a week.”
He arches a brow at me. “What about in California?”
Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. “That was because I drank too much.”
“Tess, you have been sick and tired for over a month. It started before California and that was six weeks ago.”
Shit. I lift my head. Has it been that long? Forcing my mind to work, I think about my strange exhaustion. Has it been longer than three weeks?
“I’m cold.”
Reed sits next to me and brings the comforter up around my neck, careful of the IV. But now that the truth is out in the room, looming over me, I’m not sure it has anything to do with the temperature.
“Okay.” Dr. Miller leans over and tests my glands in my throat.
Seeming satisfied, he turns to Reed. “Did you get the test?”
He nods, nervously running his hands through his hair. The IV drip ends with a small beep.
Dr. Miller checks my blood pressure and temperature. Standing up, he gets his stethoscope and listens to my heart. “I think you can use another bag of fluids,” he says, disconnecting one and reconnecting a new one.
“Well, I’m definitely getting hydrated. Is it almost done? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Almost. I want to make sure we get enough fluids into you.” He smiles down at me, then asks me the question. “When was your last period, Tess?”
And there it is. The question that I have buried deep in my subconscious. I can’t speak. Nothing comes out as I mentally track how long it’s been.
Reed cocks his head at me then turns to Dr. Miller. “She’s a little late, probably because she’s been sick.” I cling to him mute.
“Yes, that can happen. Are you still taking the pill?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Tess, you look terrified. I’m sure it’s exactly what you think.” The bag of fluid is done. Dr. Miller takes out the IV.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Perfect. I took blood and I will have those results in the morning. I think we need to do a pregnancy test now though.” The doctor hands me a white stick.
I sway. Reed is beside me, his strong arms wrapped around my waist.