Page 40 of Dangers of Love

“He went with me to the doctor.”

She smiled. “He seems like a good man.”

“He is.” I managed a smile.

“Then maybe you should talk things over with him,” she gently suggested.

“You’re right.” I glanced at my phone. “We only have–”

“Go,” Martina said as she straightened.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you short-staffed.”

“I’m going to call you a cab. I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive.” She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Do whatever it is you need to do, okay? And you tell me if there’s anything you need from me.”

I nodded, my brain feeling as if I was moving at half speed. “I’ll do that.”

I stayed in the back until she came to tell me the cab was there, but I couldn’t remember if I’d just been sitting there or if I’d actually done anything. I felt like I was running in sand, trying to walk in knee-high water. Time was disjointed, jumpy.

After closing the taxi door and giving the driver the address, I was suddenly two blocks away with no memory of getting there. A few minutes later, it happened again, taking me from a red stoplight next to a McDonald’s to the point where the car turned onto the road where the apartment building was located.

Paying the driver, getting out of the cab, going up to the apartment, all felt as if I was watching rather than doing. Once in the apartment, I dropped into the closest chair and called Eoin.

“Hey.” His voice was tight, like he’d been stretched too thin and too far.

“Hi.” Two awkward beats, and then I decided to just jump right in. No point in drawing it out. “Dr. Rhimes called. I’m pregnant.”

“Are you all right?”

A clenched fist in my chest relaxed. Even though he’d apologized for how he’d responded before, I hadn’t fully believed he’d react better to the confirmation. I closed my eyes and let the relief wash over me. It was brief since I had far more to worry about than just his initial reaction, but it helped a bit.

“Still processing,” I answered honestly. “It’s one thing for it to be a possibility, or even a probability, and something else to get that definitive answer.”

“Are you still at work?” he asked. “I’ll come get you.”

“No, I’m at the apartment. A cab dropped me off.” I rubbed my forehead. “Thank you for offering, though. I appreciate it.”

“So, Martina is still at work?”

“Yeah. She overheard the end of the call, so I told her what was going on. I know you should’ve been the first person–”

“No,” he interrupted. “No apologies or feeling guilty. You weren’t hiding anything from me. It was just circumstances.”

“That’s exactly what it was,” I agreed, grateful that he understood. The last thing I needed right now was to hurt him unintentionally.

“The guys just left,” he said. “Let me pick up something for dinner and bring it over.”

A part of me wanted to say yes, to be able to put aside everything else and lose myself in him and the comfort he offered. But that wouldn’t have been healthy or responsible, and with a baby involved, I had to do the right thing.

“No, but thank you.” I pressed my hand to my stomach. “I want to talk to you about it, but I need to get my head on straight before I can have a real conversation. I’m not shutting you out, I promise. I just need some time alone to process.”

“All right, if that’s what you need.” He didn’t sound happy, but I could tell he was trying to be supportive. To be what I needed. “If you change your mind, please call me.”

“I will,” I promised.

As the call ended, I leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling, wondering where I should start. I seemed to have either too many things in my mind or none at all.

It was going to be a long night.

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