Page 139 of Taken By My Grumpy Pakhan

I followed quietly behind, trying my best not to stare.

She was dressed in soft blue denim with a top that was loose enough to be comfortable but fitted enough to show off the delicate bump on her abdomen.

It was still little and could be easily missed by anyone who didn’t pay close attention, but I was completely mesmerized by it.

Somewhere inside that little ball was a child—not just anyone, but one we’d created.

I swallowed the uncomfortable, alien tightness in my throat, keeping up with her and the nurse.

Nikolai was smart enough to remain in the waiting area.

The room they led us to was smaller than I expected, softer somehow, with a machine beside a small bed and a couple of other things I couldn’t name.

Genevieve lay back, and I stood near her shoulder, close enough that she could have reached for my hand as I’d seen most women do in the YouTube videos. She didn’t.

The doctor asked if she wanted me present, and for a split second, I was almost certain she was going to say no.

“He can stay.”

It was a simple answer, but it sounded like a form of acceptance.

The doctor exposed her belly, revealing the tiny bump and a faint line I had never seen before stretching up the middle of her stomach.

I had tried to avert my gaze when she squirted a jelly-like liquid onto her belly.

A part of me suddenly felt like I didn’t deserve to be a part of the moment, but when a fast, steady sound filled the room, every other thought disappeared into nothingness.

I’d heard gunfire without flinching. I’d heard men beg for their lives and felt nothing shift in my chest. I hadn’t expected a sound that small to undo me the way it did.

“That’s strong,” the doctor said, smiling. “Good heartbeat.”

Genevieve’s eyes were fixed on the small screen, and when I glanced down at her, there were tears at the corners of her eyes that she blinked back before they could fall.

She caught me watching and looked away, back at the screen, like she didn’t want me to see whatever that moment had done to her.

I said nothing; I had my own feelings to put in check as it was.

The doctor made a few notes, conducted a few tests and wrote down some medications, which I offered to get from the pharmacy.

Just as I reached out to take the bag, a shutter to my right pulled my attention.

Nikolai stood in the centre of the walkway, camera held up and lips parted in glee.

“I’m going to frame this one.”

I didn’t bother dignifying his theatrics with a response as I walked past him to the room where Genevieve looked to be in a conversation with the doctor.

“How’s the ankle? Still feeling any pain?”

I drew closer, curious to know what was happening. She never mentioned any pain.

As if she would tell you anything.

“It’s barely there. Only feel it when I walk a distance.”

As if just noticing my presence, the doctor’s eyes lifted to me. “You’re back. We were just going over a few details from the last visit. She missed the one before; I needed to check thoroughly.”

Genevieve’s eyes darted to the window as the doctor spoke about the dangers of missing a visit.