Page 139 of The Wrong Groom

The doctor positions a stethoscope in her ears, and a few seconds later, I feel the cold metal as she presses the chest piece against my ribs. “It could be exhaustion, dehydration, or something else. Have you eaten today?”

I hesitate. I can’t remember. Everything before the argument, before Gabriel’s confession, feels like it happened in another lifetime.

Gabriel exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “She was upset,” he says. “She’d just gotten some bad news.”

Dr. Bryant hums in understanding and shrugs off the stethoscope. “We’ll get her some fluids and run a few tests.” She glances at Gabriel. “You can step outside while we⁠—”

“No. I’m staying.”

The doctor studies him for a moment, then nods. She seems to realize that it’s not worth arguing. Gabriel won’t budge.

I hear the rustle of paper as Dr. Bryant makes a note on her clipboard. “Alright, let’s get a nurse in here to set up an IV. We’ll check your blood pressure and run some tests to make sure there’s nothing serious going on.”

Dr. Bryant leaves the room, and a nurse enters. She wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm, then watches the screen as the pressure tightens. There’s a beep, and the nurse clicks her tongue.

“Your blood pressure is a little low. That might have caused the dizziness. Fluids will help.”

I barely register the prick of the needle as she inserts it into my arm. She draws some blood, presumably for tests, then places the IV in the crook of my elbow and leaves me alone with Gabriel once more.

He doesn’t say anything. I don’t look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me.

“You don’t have to hover,” I mutter.

“I’m not hovering.”

I bite my lip, staring at the ceiling. Now that my awareness is returning, so are the details of the confrontation in my father’s office. There are a thousand things I’d like to know from Gabriel, and I have zero desire to push him for answers.

After a few minutes, Dr. Bryant returns to the room, consulting a tablet as she enters. “Nothing overly concerning, from the looks of your tests,” she says. “You were dehydrated. Based on what he told me”—she nods to Gabriel—“stress was a big factor. Stress-induced syncope is surprisingly common.”

“So she’s going to be okay?” Gabriel asks.

Dr. Bryant nods. “Aside from the dehydration, everything else looks normal. We’ll keep you on fluids for a little while, and under observation.”

“Thank you,” I murmur. My voice sounds stronger now. The IV is definitely helping.

The doctor smiles. “And the baby is just fine.”

Chapter 45

Gabriel

The baby.

My entire body goes rigid, my breath catching in my throat. For a second, I think I’ve misheard, that the doctor must be talking about someone else, some other patient, some other life. But then my head jerks toward Alexis, searching for confirmation, and the way she refuses to meet my eyes tells me everything I need to know.

My throat tightens. She already knew. She must have found out while we were apart. While I was pushing her away, while she thought I didn’t want her anymore. That thought tears its way through me, leaving a hollow ache in its wake.

Dr. Bryant continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the shockwave that just rippled through the room. “As a precautionary measure, we’re going to admit you overnight,” she says, flipping through Alexis’s chart. “Just to ensure everything remains stable. Your blood pressure is low, and we want to monitor for any additional dizziness or complications.”

I barely hear her. My attention is locked onto Alexis, who nods stiffly, her fingers gripping the edge of the examination table. She still won’t look at me.

A nurse arrives, pushing a wheelchair, and Dr. Bryant exits the room as the nurse helps Alexis into the chair. As they start to roll into the hallway, I get up to follow them, but the nurse holds up a hand to stop me.

“Please,” I say. “I—I’d like to go with her.”

“Are you family?” the nurse asks, giving me a once-over. “Her husband?”

My jaw clenches. Alexis finally looks my way for a moment. I can see the pain in her eyes as I grind the words out. “No. I’m not.”