Page 96 of Ruthless Savior
I have no idea what he’ll want to do, and the unfortunate fact of my circumstances is that I have to care what he wants. My life, my mom’s safety, her health, all of it depends on his protection right now.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to just roll over and have no say in it, either.
Calm down, Leila, I tell myself as the countryside shifts to suburbs and we get closer to the city. I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet. My period could be late from stress; that would be perfectly normal. And I could just be sick. The travel, again, the stress, the new environment, the wet weather…
I run through a dozen reasons in my mind why I’mnotpregnant, and I feel slightly calmer until we pull up in front of the clinic, at which point my anxiety starts to spiral again.
The private practice is beautiful inside, painted in calming colors with plants and soft chairs. It’s clearly a space meant to make patients feel less nervous, but it’s not helping me a great deal right now.
I check in, and twenty or so minutes later, a nurse appears to take me back and do the usual beginning-of-appointment minutiae. I discover I’ve lost weight, my blood pressure is a little high—no surprise there—and she cautions me about making sure I exercise. She leaves a minute later with a promise that the doctor will be in soon, and I sit there on the exam table, cold and shivering with nerves.
Dr. Walsh, when she comes in, turns out to be a pretty brunette who looks to be in her mid-thirties. “So you’re not feeling well?” she asks kindly as she walks in and takes a seat, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out the real reason I’m here.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“Ah.” Dr. Walsh nods. “Have you taken a test?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t have easy access to a pharmacy where I am.”
“Hm.” She looks at me for a moment. “Are you safe?”
No. Not in the slightest.But what she means is, am I safe with my partner? I know, and that at least I feel confident about. I nod. “Yes. Just… things are complicated for us, right now.”
“I understand.” She doesn’t, of course, she can’t. But I appreciate the sentiment. “So let’s start with a test. We’ll do blood and urine, just to be sure. I’ll do a physical examination as well.”
I’m poked and prodded, sent to do the tests, and then I end up back in the exam room waiting for the results. Dr. Walsh comes back a little while after, a look on her face that I can’t read. I guess in a situation like this, she doesn’t know whether to offer congratulations or an apology.
“Well, Mrs. O’Malley, your instincts were right. You’re pregnant. About—” She gives me a time frame that matches up with our wedding night, and I let out a breath.
“Okay. So what now?”
“Well, you’re not very far along, so right now what matters is taking care of yourself. This wasn’t intentional?”
I shake my head.
“So your body might not be as prepared for pregnancy as we’d like. I’m going to suggest a prenatal vitamin, and I’ll give you a list of foods?—”
As she rattles off instructions and suggestions, promising a printout at the end of all of this to recap, I let out a shaky breath. I thought I’d feel terrified, panicked, if it was real, but instead I just feel numb.
I’m pregnant. And I can’t decide anything about it until I tell Ronan.
Well… Icould. I could tell Dr. Walsh that I don’t want to keep the baby, and I’m sure she’d help me. But the fact is that I don’tknowif I want to keep it or not. And it feels impossibly cruel to make that choice without saying anything to Ronan, after everything he’s done for me.
I feel confident that he wouldn’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do. I can’t just choose one way or another without involving him in this, even if he’s going to be upset.
Even if I’m dreading the conversation we’re going to have.
I’m set up with a follow-up appointment at the front desk. I’m just about to tell Colin I’m ready to leave when my phone buzzes, and I reach for it to see Ronan’s name on the screen.
"Hi," I answer, trying to sound normal.
“Leila.” His voice sounds warmer than usual—or am I just imagining it? After what happened the last time he was here, it seems like it would be easy to imagine that things are different from how they really are. They felt different last night. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I manage, hoping it sounds convincing. “A little under the weather,” I add, in case security has filled him in on the trip to the doctor. “I saw the doctor and she took care of me.” I’m trying desperately not to lie, but I don’t want to tell him about this over the phone.
“I’ll be back at the manor soon.” He pauses. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but… I miss you, Leila. I think I’ve gotten used to having you around.”
His tone is light, almost playful. Different from what I’m used to. I can tell he’s trying to make light of it to deflect, which means he really does miss me, I think. He wouldn’t be trying so hard to make it sound casual, otherwise.
