Page 44 of Bound Hearts

“Hello, I’m Dr. Ryder.” The woman in her mid-forties has a warm, patient smile. Her hair is pulled up into a low ponytail. She shakes Foster’s hand as he stands, then turns to me with an even more welcoming presence.

“Hi.” I accept her hand for formalities.

She steps back and begins to scroll on her tablet. “Okay, I think it’s straightforward. We can check on the baby. So why don’t you lie on your back?”

Caught off guard, I glance at Foster and say, “Oh, we’re going right into this.”

“Well, no need to wait. Home pregnancy tests are 99.9% accurate these days, and blood tests can be done if we feel the need. And you’ve taken one, which is why you’re here, I believe.”

"Three. Three tests," I point out, exchanging a quick look with Foster.

She grins. “That’s a good number. I had someone today who took eight, so I’m afraid you don’t win the award for most tests.”

My eyes float to Foster, who is intently observing us, clearly wanting to give the doctor space, yet watching like a hawk.

I adjust my legs and feet, feeling completely exposed.

“Thanks for filling out your medical history.”

“It was an entire book of questions,” I deadpan.

She grimaces. “I know it’s a lot, but it helps us. Nothing in your history raises any extra concerns, so this is straightforward. I read in the notes that you’re not 100% sure how far along you might be?”

“Yeah…” I hesitate, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I was kind of avoiding the inevitable so chose to ignore my body for a while,” I admit, voice small.

Maybe it’s my vulnerable tone that causes her to read my facial expression. “Because of fear?”

“Well, this is unexpected. We didn’t plan this.” I quickly glance at Foster, whose face is unreadable.

“Ah.” She holds her tablet close to her chest. “Would you like to chat a bit more about what it means to you?”

I stall, I actually stall. My throat tightens—it should be so easy to say no. I don’t dare look at Foster; instead, my eyes lock on the scratch on the floor below my hanging feet. My hands clench the exam table, heart pounding, as I run through all the thoughts in my head, but I still come to the same conclusion.

Finally, after a moment of silent deliberation, I say, “It’s okay. I really want to move on and figure out how far along I am and all of that stuff.”

“Got it. Well, let’s do a transvaginal ultrasound. If your…” She briefly looks back at Foster, then me, to clarify.

Blinking a few times, I consider my options but settle on one that feels more suited for the occasion, and finally, I can smirk due to the occasion. “Fiancé.” Technically, he is, and as much as I know she wouldn’t judge, to me, it screams less that we accidentally got pregnant.

“If your fiancé wants to join you by standing at your side, then we can have a look together at the screen.”

Even here, in this sterile exam room, Foster stands up, and somehow, every step he takes still carries that unmistakable swagger.

“This will be a little cold,” she notes.

As I take a deep breath, he scoops up my hand, entwining our fingers and bringing them up to his lips for a tiny chaste kiss. It’s sweet and distracts me from the doctor using instruments that are not the most fun.

“Now bear with me, sometimes we need to move in different positions.”

I feel the uncomfortable twinges twist in my stomach and press my lips together as I stare at the screen that only says she is searching. My heart pounds, heavy and tight with fear. Should it take this long?

But then it all vanishes.

“There we are.” She points to the blinking circle on the screen. Her finger then jabs a few keys on the computer next to the machine, and the sound turns on.

The wave of a fast heartbeat fills the room.

Foster tightens his grip on my hand, and I look up at him. “It’s really there,” I whisper in disbelief.