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After the nurse does all the vital stuff, blood pressure, temperature, etcetera, she leaves with an empty plastic cup and a paper gown I’m supposed to put on. I immediately look at Luke in the chair. “You can go.”
“What?” he asks with mild surprise.
“You don’t need to be here for this, and it was wrong of me to ask you.”
He shifts in his seat. “I’m not leaving you here alone, Sadie.”
“Why not? I’ll have to do all of this alone, Luke. I can tell how uncomfortable you are, so just go. This isn’t your problem.”
His jaw sets in a firm line. Then he stands from his chair, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. But he doesn’t move toward the door. Instead, he stops directly in front of me so my knees are pressed against his hips.
As he reaches out and takes my jaw in his hand, my eyes go wide and my breathing stops altogether.
“You don’t tell me what to do, Miss Green,” he says. “It’s the other way around. Understand? Now stop being such a petulant brat and go pee into the cup. Now.”
Chills scatter down my body as I stare up at him. All of the anxious thoughts in my head quiet as I focus only on the touch of his fingers on my face and the commanding presence of his words.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He lets me go and backs up to allow me to jump down from the table. I don’t look at him as I slip out of the room toward the bathroom, and the entire time I’m peeing in that cup, I’m questioning how in the hell he does that.
How does he always know exactly what to say to silence my mind? Why does it have such an effect on me? I normally hate being told what to do. And in any other situation, I truly cannot stand Lucas at all. Which makes it that much more infuriating that he has a special talent of playing me like a puppet on a string.
It makes me want to scream. Everything he tells me to do, I want to do the opposite. I want to fight back against him just to see him get mad. As mad as he was in the classroom that day.
But in situations like this, when I need something to ground me, his commands give me exactly what I need.
I leave the pee cup on the table the nurse told me to before I wash my hands, change into the stupid backless gown, and head back to the exam room. Luke is still in the chair, staring down at his phone. I let out a huff as I sit back down on the exam table, wanting to tell him just how much of a prick he is.
He ignores me, and it makes me even angrier.
Just when I’m about to start a fight, the door opens, and the doctor walks in.
“Hello, Miss Green,” she says in a warm, friendly tone. Then she turns to shake Luke’s hand and I grimace to myself.
“He’s not,” I blurt out as Luke looks at me quizzically before shaking the doctor’s hand anyway.
“So…” she starts, taking a seat on the rolling stool. “Your test came back positive. And according to your cycle, your due date should be around mid-May but we will get a better idea of dates after your scan.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Okay,” I mutter, not quite excited and not quite devastated. Somewhere in the middle.
The doctor looks at me with an uneasy smile as if my reaction is not what she expected, so I paste a big fake smile on my face. “I mean…yay.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luke smirk to himself.
“We’re going to do a quick ultrasound to take a look at the baby,” the doctor says.
My brows shoot upward. “Now? Really?”
“Yep,” she replies, rolling toward me. And when she pulls out those humiliating stirrups on the table, I think I actually die of mortification. Oh God. “Go ahead and lie back. Dad, I’ll have you come stand by her head.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
“He’s not!” I blurt out, and the doctor only replies with a smile.
I’ve never been in a more awkward room in all of my life. If there were a God, a meteor would collide with the planet right now and save us all from this humiliation. But no such luck.
