Page 99 of Faking with Three

Heather parks the car in front of the hospital before turning to me.

“You ready?” Heather asks, glancing at me as she parks the car.

“Not really,” I admit, unbuckling my seatbelt. “But let’s do this anyway.”

The reception area of the hospital is sterile and efficient, with rows of beige chairs and a potted plant that looks too perfect to be real. Heather takes the lead, speaking to the nurse at the front desk while I hover behind her, feeling out of place.

Minutes later, we’re led to a small examination room tucked away down a long hallway. The walls are a pale green, decorated with generic watercolor paintings of flowers. A padded chair and a small sink occupy one corner, while a neatly arranged counter holds an assortment of medical tools.

I sit down on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me as Heather pulls up a chair next to me.

The doctor arrives, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a calm demeanor. She introduces herself as Dr. Patel, asking me a series of questions that make me squirm slightly in my seat. When she finally mentions running tests, I nod mutely, unable to muster words.

The process is clinical but quick—blood work, a urine sample, and a brief physical examination. Heather holds my hand through it all.

When it’s over, Dr. Patel tells us to wait while the results are processed.

“You okay?” Heather asks softly.

“Not really,” I say, managing a shaky smile. “But thanks for being here.”

“Always.”

The door opens, and Dr. Patel steps back in, a folder in her hands. Her expression is professional but gentle as she sits down across from us.

“Well, Olivia,” she begins, her voice calm but firm, “I have your results.”

I hold my breath, my grip on Heather’s hand tightening.

“You’re pregnant.”

The words hit like a shockwave, knocking the air out of me. For a moment, I can’t speak, can’t think. Pregnant?

“Are… are you sure?” I finally manage

Dr. Patel nods, her expression patient. “The tests are conclusive. You’re about six weeks along.”

Six weeks. I try to wrap my head around it, but the math feels impossible. Heather’s hand is still in mine, her grip grounding me even as my world tilts on its axis.

“Liv,” Heather says gently, her voice pulling me back to the room. “You okay?”

I blink, nodding slowly. “I… I think so. I just… wasn’t expecting this.”

Dr. Patel offers a small smile. “It’s a lot to process. Take your time. If you have any questions, I’m here.”

Questions. I have a million of them, but none seem to form into coherent thoughts. All I can do is nod again

The ride home is quiet at first. Heather keeps glancing at me. “You want me to text Ethan or Marcus? I think I have Ethan’s number,” she finally asks, breaking the silence.

I shake my head, staring out the window at the blur of passing buildings. “No, I’ll tell them myself. But thanks.”

She nods, but her eyes flick to me again. “And Jax?”

My stomach twists.

“I… I don’t know. I’ll have to figure out how to tell him.”

Heather hesitates. “He’s going to take it hard, what with everything going on. Do you know whose it is?”

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