Page 50 of Illicit Throne

He frowned. “Most things I touch end up broken.”

Before I could ask for clarification, there was a soft knock on the door, then it swung open to reveal Dr. Hawthorne. She was an auburn-haired woman in her late forties with frameless glasses, whose gaze darted between us until it settled on me, a professional smile on her face.

Tristan took a step away from me–like he didn’t want to be seen touching me.

It seemed silly, given that the evidence of his touch was all over me.

“Miss Orsini,” she greeted me, her soft voice carrying an intimate note of familiarity that threw me off guard. Then she glanced at Tristan and gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. “Tristan.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before turning back to me. “I understand you’re here for a routine check?”

“I just found out I was pregnant,” I said. “A couple of weeks ago. I haven’t seen anyone about it yet.”

Her eyebrows knitted together in concern, her professional demeanor momentarily slipping. “Well, we’ll get you checked out right away,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. She gave me a gentle smile before turning to Tristan. “I assume you’ll be stepping out?”

“No,” I said. “He’s staying.”

Tristan looked surprised, grateful even–but that wasn’t why I’d told her he was staying. I figured he would insist anyway. Even if he was being nice right now, he’d made it clear I was his captive.

Dr. Hawthorne nodded, writing something down on a piece of paper in front of her. “I need to make sure my staff knows it’s okay to talk about your medical treatment with Tristan. What are you to each other?”

I met Tristan’s gaze. I wondered if this was necessary at all, but it seemed silly to challenge it dressed in a hospital gown and ready to see a doctor for the first time since I had found out I was pregnant.

“I…uh,” I stammered, looking towards him for help. He was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting mine with a seriousness that was almost unnerving.

“We’re partners,” he said finally, his voice steady and sure. “In everything. She’s going to be my wife.”

Dr. Hawthorne nodded, making a note of it on the paper. “Very well,” she said softly. “Let’s get started then. How have you been feeling, Miss Orsini?”

My voice trembled as I spoke, forcing myself to keep eye contact with Dr. Hawthorne. “I’ve been…okay. Tired, mainly. And nauseous sometimes. I’ve been throwing up a lot. Feeling really dizzy. Is that normal?”

The doctor nodded, making a few notes on her clipboard before beckoning me to take a seat on the examination table. “Those symptoms are common in the early stages of pregnancy but we’ll conduct some tests to make sure everything is fine,” she reassured me, her gaze steady as she jotted down notes.

Tristan stood by my side, his hand finding mine as he traced gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. His familiar touch was comforting amidst the sterile clinic room and I felt some tension drain from my body.

“Are you ready?” Dr. Hawthorne asked as she approached the examination table, her gloved hands already reaching for my abdomen.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, squeezing Tristan’s hand in anticipation. He squeezed back in silent reassurance.

The doctor began the examination, her fingers pressing gently against my belly. She asked questions about my health history, my lifestyle and how I was feeling currently. I responded to each query honestly, constantly glancing at Tristan whose focus never shifted from me.

After a while, Dr. Hawthorne stepped back and lowered her hands to take off her gloves, her expression unreadable. “You’re doing well, Adriana,” she said, her voice steady. “I need to run some blood tests to confirm everything’s normal and would also suggest an ultrasound for more detailed information about the baby.”

“What kind of blood tests?”

“There are some genetic tests that can test the baby’s chromosomes to make sure they’re not at increased risks from certain genetic disorders,” she replied.

“It’s just a precaution, Adriana,” Tristan murmured in my ear. His voice was soft, soothing. But the room suddenly felt too hot, too small.

“Genetic…” I swallowed hard, feeling the color drain from my face. I hadn’t realized it, but since I had definitely decided to keep the baby, I had grown extremely attached. “You mean…there might be something wrong with the baby?”

“No, no. Absolutely not,” Dr. Hawthorne reassured quickly. “It’s just a routine part of prenatal care. These tests can provide insights into Baby’s growth and development. They’re very simple tests, you just get your blood taken. And you’ll immediately find out the sex of the baby.”

“Sex of the baby…” I murmured, my eyes on my belly. “Already?”

Dr. Hawthorne nodded, her professional mask slipping to reveal a small smile. “They’re quite advanced now, these tests. We can usually ascertain the sex by ten weeks.”

I glanced at Tristan–his gaze was locked on mine and loaded with emotion I couldn’t decipher. He was silent, his hand squeezing mine tightly. The thought of knowing so early seemed exciting yet terrifying–it was too real, too fast.

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