“I haven’t been since the week before Ian’s accident in March. I stopped taking the birth control pills in the summer because I didn’t need them, and they were a reminder of someone I was missing. My periods are always scattered. My chart should show all the testing we’ve done over the years, and they never came up with anything other than polycystic ovarian disease. In fact, you said it would be difficult for me to conceive again after the miscarriage and hemorrhage.”
“Okay, I’m gonna draw some blood work. Can you wait a few minutes or do you need to get home?”
“I can wait.”
The waiting seemed like forever. I wore the battery down on my phone checking emails, texting and checking on Ty. I watched the sun begin its descent from Dr. Clay’s office window.
When she finally walked back into the room, her hair appeared frazzled as if she’d been in a windstorm. When she rolled over to me on the stool, I prepared for the pending lecture that beamed from her facial expression like a neon sign.
“Chelsie, you’re pregnant. I had them run the test twice. What you’re experiencing is early first-trimester migraines.”
I covered my mouth with my hands. That wasn’t the lecture I expected.
“That’s not possible. I’ve not been with anyone since Ian in March.”
She gripped my arm. “Is it possible you had a drink spiked one night while out with the girls or something? You did say you were having crazy dreams.”
Shocked, I shook my head.
“Okay, let’s look on ultrasound. I want to see how far along you are.”
Quickly, she set up the machine and inserted the cold wand deep into my vagina. Within seconds, I began to see recognizable parts of my body. I had several ultrasounds before my last miscarriage. I noticed the dark gray circle on the screen…an early pregnancy.
“There’s the gestational sack.” She pointed to the same area on the screen. “Looks like you’re about four to six weeks along. Does that timing ring any kind of bell?”
It did, but I wasn’t telling her. She’d have me locked up for sure.
She removed her gloves and helped me sit up. “Perhaps you had too much to drink, and it was a date rape. You could be subconsciously blocking it.” She handed me tissues as my tears poured. “I want you to see Margie tomorrow, this cannot wait.” She handed me a business card. “I’m calling her right now for an emergency appointment. Do you think you can drive home?”
“Yes.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you meds for your headaches other than to tell you to use acetaminophen. Just to be sure, I checked you for STDs, and the results will be back in a few days. I’ll call your cell as soon as I can. I want to see you back in two weeks with a weight gain, and we’ll do another sonogram then.” She helped me down from the exam table. “Chelsie, this is going to be okay, but we need your body and your mind healthy in order to get to a healthy birth, okay?”
I nodded. It was the best communication I could offer at that moment.
Stumbling from one door facing to another, I left out of her office and managed to make it to the front of my car before I threw up in the parking lot.
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
So, I’m not really losing my mind, you bastard. You snuck into my home, made love to me, left everything like normal, so I’d believe it was a dream.
Are you that much of a coward?
The End
Stay tuned for more information regarding
Captivated on 5th Avenue
Acknowledgements
Each time I get to the end of a book and think about all the people (the village) that it took to see the words come to life, I’m humbled.
A very special thank you goes out to my beta readers. Mari, Dennise, Nicole and Heidi. Ladies I’m forever grateful that you would give my work the time of day, much less share your feedback to make the story better. I don’t want to think about what it would be like without you.
To my author pals, DeLaine Roberts, Kimmie Easley and Kelly Collins, you are my heroes and inspiration for every facet of my life. You’re adored!
Andrea Grimm, your editing and feedback is priceless and I’m sure somewhere there is a huge hole where your bury all of my mistakes and laugh your head off doing it.
To my family, I love you and I’m so thankful that you allow me the space and freedom to explore this writing life.
Lastly, to the readers, I want to say thank you for reading my stories and continuing to support my work. Without you, there wouldn’t be a world for the words to survive.
Huge hugs,
Abbie
About The Author
With a creative personality, Abbie St. Claire has always had her nose in a book. Whether one for decorative painting, gourmet cooking or steamy erotica.
“Heck, those books all go together in my mind. My imagination can easily picture a painting session that turns steamy and I certainly see trying to prepare a gourmet meal while getting deliciously sidetracked with a partner and finishing that meal for breakfast,” St. Claire says with a raised brow and twinkle in her eyes.
An International Best Selling Author, St. Claire focuses her work on writing steamy romance from the “writing nook” in her Houston, Texas kitchen, where she’s currently at work on the “5th Avenue Romance Series.
St. Claire has quite a bit in store for 2015 and 2016 with a new series, participation in several anthologies and even a golf-themed steamy novella slated for late summer. For her latest news, be sure to sign up for her mailing list at http://eepurl.com/U-fJz
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorabbiestclaire
Twitter: www.twitter.com/abbiestclaire
Email: [email protected]
Complicated on 5th Avenue: 5th Avenue Romance Series, Book Two Page 14
