Page 91 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

His words are cryptic, but a sliver of hope worms its way through the panic. “Do you mean…food poisoning?” I venture.

He chuckles, a warm, reassuring sound. “No, Emma. Not food poisoning.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at me directly. “The tests indicate…you're pregnant.”

The world seems to tilt on its axis. Pregnant? The word echoes in my mind, a foreign concept that feels both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I gasp, shaking my head in denial.

“No,” I whisper, the word barely a squeak. “It can't be.”

Dr. Miller's expression softens. “The tests are conclusive, Emma. You're about two weeks along.”

My hand flies to my stomach, a sense of overwhelming disbelief washing over me. Two weeks. A life growing inside me, a tiny spark of potential waiting to bloom. Tears well up in my eyes, a mixture of emotions swirling within me—joy, fear, uncertainty.

“Does Liam know?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Miller shakes his head. “I haven't had a chance to speak to him yet. He was here all night, though. Seemed pretty worried about you.” He gestures toward the door. “He was sleeping on the bench out there until he had to get back to work this morning.”

A pang of guilt shoots through me. Liam, in his concern, spent his night on an uncomfortable hospital bench, all because of me. He deserves to know. He deserves to be a part of this.

But a primal instinct to protect the fragile hope blooming within me takes over. “Please,” I plead, my voice trembling. “Don't tell him…yet.”

Dr. Miller raises an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. “Emma, are you sure? He has a right to know?—“

“I know,” I interrupt, tears spilling down my cheeks. “But…I just need some time. Time to process this, time to figure things out.”

Dr. Miller sighs, but his gaze softens with understanding. “Alright, Emma,” he concedes. “Your privacy is important. I can't say anything to Liam…or anyone, unless you instruct me to.”

Relief floods through me, a temporary reprieve in the whirlwind of emotions. There is so much to consider—my career, Liam, how this will change everything. But for now, I just need a moment to breathe, a moment to grasp the life-altering news before me.

The door swings open with a flourish, and a wave of familiar faces floods the room. Damon bursts in first, his face etched with worry, followed by Ethan, a mischievous grin plastered across his face, and June, her eyes wide with concern.

“Em!” June shrieks, rushing toward me and engulfing me in a hug that would pop my stitches if I had any. Ethan follows suit, wrapping his small arms around me in a tight squeeze. Damon lingers by the door, a relieved smile playing on his lips.

“There she is!” Ethan exclaims, pulling back to examine me with wide, curious eyes. “Are you okay, Aunt Emma? Did they poke you with lots of scary needles?”

I chuckle, a wave of warmth washing over me at their presence. “Hey there, squirt,” I ruffle his hair playfully. “Yes, lots of needles, but nothing a brave adventurer like me couldn't handle.”

June, ever the doting friend, fusses over me next. “Emma, honey, you had us worried sick! What happened?”

“Just a little stress, that's all,” I reassure her, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation. “All part of the wedding craziness, right?”

Damon chuckles, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Wedding craziness, huh? Well, you certainly managed to steal the spotlight, even if unintentionally.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, a flicker of unease creeping in. Have they figured something out?

“Our wedding will now be famous for your dramatic fainting spell,” he says with a grin.

“And Liam going crazy when you fainted.” June giggles, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh, Em, you wouldn't believe it! Liam practically carried you out of the venue like a damsel in distress. He wouldn't let anyone else touch you, and then insisted on coming to the hospital in the ambulance, holding your hand all the way.” She leans closer. “Damon even tells me he cried and prayed on the way here.”

Images of Liam's frantic face, his panicked pleas echoing in the ambulance, flash before my eyes. My cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and a strange, fluttering sensation deep in my chest.

That was just his guilty conscience. All day yesterday I’d been worried every time he walked toward me that he was going to end everything officially and demand we tell the truth. As much as I’m hurt by his words the other night, I’m not ready to do that yet. I know it makes me pathetic, but I’m not ready to let him go…not yet.

Oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions, June continues to pipe up, “That's so romantic, Em! Just like in the movies!” She adds a wink at the end of her words.

Suddenly, a nagging thought strikes me. “Speaking of romantic things,” I say, changing the subject, “when are you lovebirds jetting off on your romantic getaway?”

June and Damon exchange peculiar looks. June stammers, “Well, Em, about that…”

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