Page 5 of Tangled Threads Of Fate

I sat beside the water cooler, grabbing a paper cup and filling it. Gulping down the ice-cold water, I filled it once more. And then again. And again, until I was feeling more alive.

I suddenly realized I was sweating, my skin cold and clammy, but my insides felt like they were on fire. I stared down at the water as if it might hold the answers to why I felt like this, but all I saw was my reflection and the long fluorescent lights.

“Wren?”

I dragged my eyes from the water up to the concerned face of Dr. Kash. He was around sixty-five, but he had barely any lines on his face, which told me he either had really good genes or a great hand at Botox.

I stood, dragging my backpack up with me. There were coffee stains on my shirt, and my hair was probably a wild mess, but I didn’t care. I walked through to his office, with its beige furniture and great view of the river. He waved at the same hard leather seat I’d sat in last time.

“Take a seat. How are you feeling, Wren?”

I tried not to cry. I really did. I’d even forced a smile onto my face, but someone hadn’t given my tear ducts the memo, because tears started pouring down my cheeks.

Dr. Kash handed me a box of tissues. “So, not well?”

I shook my head. “It’s getting worse. I feel like I’m losing my mind.” I didn’t tell him about the fact I thought I’d seenmonsters exiting his building earlier. I didn’t want to get thrown in a padded cell.

He looked at the screen of his fancy laptop, a frown on his face. He winced, and my stomach fell out of my butt. It must be cancer. A brain tumor. Something bad.

“Well, the blood test determined a significant possibility for what’s causing your visual disturbances.”

“Is it a tumor?” I breathed, and when he shook his head, I couldn’t help the relieved whoosh that blasted from my overfilled lungs.

But he was checking for parasites too, right? Sometimes, they could lodge in your eyeballs or in your brain…Ew. Ew, ew, ew!“It’s not parasites?”

Dr. Kash looked almost amused. “Well, yes, some would say so, by definition.” He chuckled, though I failed to see what was amusing about a hookworm in my eyeball.

Though surely the optometrist would’ve seen a worm in my eyeball, right?

“You’re pregnant.”

Obviously, that meant the parasite had to be in my brain. That sounded bad. Did they do surg?—

Dr. Kash’s words suddenly permeated my panicked fog. “Excuse me,what?”

“Pregnant. We won’t know exactly how far along until you have a scan, but your blood work suggests you are definitely pregnant.”

I shook my head. “Um, no.”

“I know this might be a surprise?—”

I shook my head more vigorously, making the lights dance and sway like a disco. “Not a surprise, Doc. Animpossibility.I haven’t had sex in… a long time. Like, twelve months.”

Dr. Kash was frowning again. “You haven’t had any late nights out in the last few months, where you may have imbibeda little too much alcohol? Any time you might have been sexually active?”

The only time I’d even partied in the last three months had been Camila’s farewell. Her boyfriend had gotten an acting gig in LA, so they were moving to the West Coast. We’d gotten rowdy, but definitely not black-out drunk. I remembered most of the night… didn’t I?

Even as I thought it, doubt crept into my brain. Maybe there were a few blank spots, but I’d remember fucking someone, I was sure of it. I wasn’t that type of person. I was more anI’ll take your number and call youkinda girl, and sometimes I called and sometimes I didn’t. Sure, more often than not I didn’t these days—after my ex and the Armenian—but that still didn’t mean I’d hook up with a person and not remember it. Right?

Fuck, maybe I had. Well,obviouslyI had, because the doctor was looking at me expectantly. I realized my head was still shaking from side to side. “I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

Jesus fucking Christ on a Christmas cracker.

“I’m not trying to be insensitive, Miss Mahone, but regardless of how, the fact still stands that you’re pregnant, and I believe this may be causing your visual hallucinations. It isn’t unheard of, though exceedingly rare. I’m going to rule out any conditions that may have this effect with an MRI, and then I’ll transfer your case to the perinatal mental health department of Brighams. Sometimes, it can be a sign of pre-eclampsia, or even gestational diabetes, so I’ve referred you to an obstetrician in this building. I’ve also had my receptionist book you an appointment with the ultrasound techs the next floor down, just to confirm.” He smiled softly at me. “In case the tests were wrong.”

“Is there a chance of that?” I couldn’t keep the hope from my voice.

He shook his head. “No.” He stood, coming to stand around the other side of his desk. I felt shaky; my whole world had been not just turned upside down, but pile-driven into the ground. “I know this seems like the end of the world, but I have to tell you, Miss Mahone, that the rest of the tests are perfect. You’re a healthy, pregnant young woman. There are no signs of anything else to worry about, and I hope that eases something in your mind.”

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