Page 25 of Baby Maker

“So, you wish it hadn’t happened. Is that it?” My temper is near boiling at this juncture.

Her cheeks flush with color as she wrings her hands. She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

But she doesn’t need to speak. It’s my turn. “I’m not sorry for kissing you, Calli. Maybe I should be, for the reasons you mentioned, but I’m not. I’m not sorry for touching you. I am, however, terribly sorry that you regret it.”

“I don’t regret it.” She whispers her words, but I hear them.

And I can breathe again, my blood pressure returning to normal limits.

“But I should regret it,” she continues, as her pacing picks up speed. “I don’t know what it says about me that I don’t.”

“Why should you regret it?”

“You have a girlfriend. I have a husband. Granted, Nigel is gone, but Megan is very much alive.”

“I told you before. She’s not my girlfriend. And after our row the other night, she’s not someone in my life anymore.”

Calli sinks into the chair, but instead of relief, her face contorts with pain. “Is it because of what happened between us?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s not because of the kiss—and everything else—but because I realized I felt nothing for her. It was a waste of my time. Don’t worry too much for her, though. She’s not exactly weeping into her pillow. Megan already has dinner plans with a colleague. They thought her tits were tremendous, too.”

Calli’s laughter sweetens the silence, and I join in, feeling the tension ebb from my body. “I knew her tits would come in handy.”

I kick back in the chair, letting my gaze roam over Calliope. I know she’s my patient, but she’s also a beautiful woman. A beautiful, intelligent, insightful woman—who can kiss like there’s no tomorrow. “I didn’t think you’d come today.”

“I almost didn’t, but I couldn’t leave it like that. It felt so unfinished.”

“I agree. Besides, don’t you want your test results?”

She chews her lower lip, gaze averted. “I don’t know, Dr. Russo. Do I?”

I return my gaze to the computer, pulling up her file. “Let’s see. Either way, it’s going to be okay. I promise.” I’m not sure why I say these words, although I know I mean them. I glance over her results, feeling a mixed bag of emotions.

Emotions that obviously show on my face.

Calli sags in the chair, shaking her head. “It’s bad, isn’t it? There’s something wrong with me.”

I turn the computer to face her, showing her the screen. “No, Calli. There’s nothing wrong with you. Physically, there’s no reason that you can’t carry a child to term.”

She leans forward, trying to make sense of the myriad of numbers. “Then why did I keep miscarrying?”

“That’s our next step. There’s a good chance that something was wrong with the fetus, and it was your body’s way of protecting both of you. It’s not uncommon. It could be as simple as stressors in your life. Even your diet.”

“All three times?”

I fold my hands, flipping into the role of the doctor. “There’s also the possibility of a chromosomal abnormality.”

“English, please.”

“An incompatibility between your egg and your husband’s sperm.”

“That can happen?”

“It can. It often does.”

“Can we test for that?”

I nod, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “We can. We’ll perform a sperm DNA fragmentation test to ensure the genetic material of your husband’s sperm is compatible with life. Don’t worry, Mrs. Webster, we will make you a mother, one way or another.”

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