Page 42 of Blackout-

Please don’t be dead.

I hear something shuffle outside the door and I quickly end the call, shoving the phone back in my purse before changing into the gown as instructed. After I figure out how to tie the damn thing around my waist, I hop onto the exam table and cross my legs.

I try to distract my overactive mind by staring at a poster on the wall that explains the woman’s reproductive system. Of course, that doesn’t do the trick and I find myself playing with the stirrups at the end of the table.

I’ve never been a big fan of doctors, especially gynecologists. I mean, let’s be real, it’s embarrassing as fuck to have a man you hardly know make small talk while his head is between your legs and his hand is up your vagina.

How’s the weather?

Great, how’s everything down there?

Yeah, awkward…

A knock sounds on the door before it opens. Expecting the doctor, I’m surprised when my husband enters the room. The sight of him should flood me with relief but as I take in his ragged appearance, all I can do is worry.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says.

Pushing his hair away from his face, I notice the few days growth that covers his handsome features and the dark circles plaguing his eyes. He leans in to kiss me and the scent of motor oil wafts past my nose.

“I didn’t miss the doctor, did I?” he questions, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as he searches my eyes.

“No,” I reply, shaking the grim thoughts from my head. “Is everything okay? I tried—”

“Yeah, baby, everything is okay,” he says, lacing his fingers with mine. Lifting my hand, he brushes his lips across my knuckles. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home. There’s some shit that needs my attention,” he mutters, pausing to draw in a deep breath. “It’ll all be over soon.”

I’m not sure if that last sentence is meant to me soothe me or him. Before I can ask, another knock sounds on the door and this time when it swings open, the doctor enters.

“Good afternoon, Lacey,” he greets, with a smile. “I’m Dr. Heltzer,” he adds, holding out his hand to Blackie. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Blackie,” he replies, shaking the doctor’s hand.

“So, you had a positive home pregnancy test, is that right?”

“Yes,” I answer, leaving out the fact I’ve taken several since.

That’s our little secret.

Dr. Heltzer turns and the nurse slides the urine sample across the counter. Blackie and I watch as he tests the sample.

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know the exact date, but it was roughly five weeks ago,” I say as Blackie drapes his arm around my shoulders.

“Well, you’re definitely pregnant,” Heltzer confirms, turning to us. “Based on your last period that puts you at around five weeks. We’ll do an internal sonogram and check everything out,” he says, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves.

I cringe at the sound of the latex snapping against his skin and my body goes tense. Diverting my attention back to Blackie, he winks at me.

“Relax,” he whispers.

Easy for him to say.

He’s not about to have Dr. Heltzer between his legs.

Relenting, I squeeze Blackie’s hand as I lay back and place my feet in the stirrups. Dr. Heltzer instructs me to scoot further down on the table and I roll my eyes, mortified. The nurse wheels over the sonogram machine and they slip what looks like a condom, over the wand.

Blackie leans into me, touching his lips to my ear.

“This is it,” he whispers. “We’re never going to forget this moment.”

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