Page 31 of Saving Emily
“Excuse me?” I ask, confused.
“Noah. He had his lawyers revise his will so you get every single cent!” Her face morphs from a friendly middle-aged doctor’s receptionist to a cold and heartless bitch in an instant. “When I turned up to the hospital after his accident, requesting information, I ran into Jacob at the reception desk. He told me Noah made sure everything went to you. Is it true?”
I’m so shocked, I don’t know how to reply. Jacob never mentioned she had been at the hospital. If she went all the way to the reception desk to check on Noah, why didn’t she visit him while she was there?
“Is it true?” she demands again, her eyes narrowing into thin slits.
I nod, acknowledging what Jacob told her is true. Cormack said Noah explicitly stated that his mother wasn’t to get a cent out of his estate in the event of his death.
“That spiteful bastard—”
Her words are cut off by my hand. I slap her hard across her face, not the least bit resentful. “You are to never talk about Noah like that again. Do you understand me? He’s fighting his greatest battle, yet all you’re worried about is what you’ll get if he dies. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
As her hand cradles her cheek, her expression morphs to shock. “He’s still alive?”
I stare into her dark brown eyes, stunned.She thought Noah was dead?
Loving my stunned expression, her pencil-thin lips carve into a smile. It isn't a smile that reveals she's happy her only son is alive. It's the smile of someone planning an act of revenge. It is conniving and dangerous.
“Say hello to my boy, won’t you?” she requests before storming past me, barging me with her shoulder on the way.
I stand frozen at the entrance of the hallway, wondering why she'd believe Noah was dead, while also striving to work out what scheme she's concocting. I’m certain it has to do with money. From the stories Noah has shared, I have no qualms declaring that his mother is a money-hungry bitch.
My thoughts are interrupted a few moments later by a nurse calling my name from the waiting room. I turn my worried gaze to her, but since I'm too stunned to speak, I just stare at her.
As she strolls my way, the confusion on my face jumps onto hers. “Emily?”
Still unable to speak, I nod.
Assuming my daftness is compliments to the news I'm about to become a young mother, the nurse walks me into Dr. Morgan's exam room before handing me a blue gown to change into. Once I've changed, I wait for Dr. Morgan to arrive at the blue hospital bed. Right now, Noah's baby needs to be my number one priority. I'll handle his mother after ensuring everything is okay with our unborn baby.
"Hi, Emily," Dr. Morgan greets me as he strolls into the room.
Dr. Morgan would have to be in his mid-fifties, if not sixties. His hair is entirely silver, and he has a pepper mustache on his top lip. When I was here with Jenni, his cheeks were rosy in color. I had wondered if it was from the heat, but today, they’re just as hued, making me realize it’s his skin's natural coloring.
“In your file, it states you're bleeding, but you don’t know how far along you are?”
He glances up from the chart in his hand when I say, “I haven’t had my period in approximately four to five months.”
"Uh-huh, and did you take a pregnancy test?"
I shake my head. “My fiancé was in a serious accident, so I haven’t had the chance.”
The expression on his face changes from apprehensive to sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart.” He sits on the spinning stool next to my bed. “Because you're bleeding, I do not recommend doing an internal examination, but I think we should do an ultrasound. Since you've not had your period in such a long time, you may be pregnant, but there's also a possibility that stress caused you to skip your period."
I don’t know why, but I honestly believe I’m carrying Noah’s baby. I just know I'm pregnant with his child.
“If you could lie down for me, we’ll take a little peek at what’s going on inside this body of yours.”
After scooting up the bed, I rest my head on the pillow. Dr. Morgan pulls his ultrasound equipment closer before opening my gown. After placing down a sheet of white material above my panty line, he tucks it into my underwear. He shakes a bottle of blue gel-like liquid before squirting it onto my rounded stomach. The gel feels cool against the warmth of my skin.
He gives me a reassuring smile before he presses the gray wand against my stomach. Because the monitor is facing him, I can’t see what he’s looking at, but I do notice his brows furrowing. My heart thrashes wildly against my ribs when he sighs while clicking buttons on the machine's keyboard.
"Okay," he breathes out slowly. My heart palpitates dangerously fast in my chest when he adds, "We have a bit of a problem."
22
Ipainfully bite on the inside of my cheek, willing myself not to cry when Dr. Morgan pivots the ultrasound monitor so it faces me. The longer I peer at the black and white image, the more moisture flood my eyes. I can't see anything on the screen that resembles a jellybean, much less a baby.
