Chapter 123 (1/2)

Dr. Greene's office is spacious, minimalist, and well appointed.

”I'm so grateful you caught me before I left,” I mumble, still shellshocked. ”My father's been in a car accident, and we've just moved him here from Portland.”

”Oh, I'm so sorry. How's he doing?”

”He's doing okay, thank you. On the mend.”

”That's good. And it explains why you cancelled on Friday.”

Dr. Greene wiggles the mouse on her desk, and her computer comes to life.

”Yes . . . it's been over thirteen weeks. You're cutting it a bit fine. We'd better do a test before we give you another shot.”

”A test?” I whisper, all the blood rushing from my head.

”A pregnancy test.”

Oh no.

She reaches into the drawer of her desk. ”You know what to do with this.” She hands me a small container. ”The restroom is just outside my office.”

I get up as if in a trance, my whole body robotic, operating on automatic pilot, and stumble to the restroom.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. How could I have let this happen . . . again?

I suddenly feel sick and offer a silent prayer while I pee . Please no. Please no. It's too soon. It's too soon. It's too soon. When I reenter Dr. Greene's office, she gives me a tight smile and waves me to the seat in front of her desk. I sit down and wordlessly hand her my sample. She dips a small white stick into it and watches. She raises her eyebrows as it turns pale blue.

”What does that mean? The blue?” The tension is almost choking me.

She looks up at me, her eyes wide. ”Well, Mrs. Grey, it means you're pregnant.”

What? No. No. No.

Fuck.

Chapter Twenty

I gape at Dr. Greene, my world collapsing around me. A baby. A baby. I don't want a baby . . . not yet. Fuck. And I know deep down that Christian is going to freak.

”Mrs. Grey, you're very pale. Would you like a glass of water?”

”Please.” My voice is a barely audible. My mind is racing. Pregnant? When?

”I take it you're surprised.”

I nod mutely at the good doctor as she hands me a glass of water from her conveniently placed water cooler. I take a welcome sip.

”Shocked,” I whisper.

”We could do an ultrasound to see how advanced the pregnancy is. Judging by your reaction, I suspect you're just a couple of weeks or so from conception - - four or five weeks pregnant. I take it you haven't been suffering any other symptoms?”

I shake my head mutely. Symptoms? I don't think so. ”I thought . . . I thought this was a reliable form of contraceptive.”