Page 31 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

“I mean, okay. Wait, no, wrong answer. Congratulations?” Carter offers with a chuckle, clearly struggling to piece things together.

I say, “I haven’t told the father.”

“Why not? Did Jackson not want—”

“How did you know it was Jackson?”

Carter shrugs. “I mean, Cara said that you two were an item. I probably shouldn’t have listened to her, but she’s not usually wrong.”

He’s right. We are an item. But I also know that Jackson is a work-first kind of guy. I’ve seen him struggle to spend time with Bonnie, even when he wants to, and I’ve been there as he put work above me. I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want another kid, even if he doesn’t mind being in a relationship.

The thought of just telling him this—it’s too much. I don’t know how he’s going to react yet, so I’m just putting off telling him for now. Is that a mature way to handle things? Absolutely not. But it’s also the only thing that I’ve got right now.

And this totally proves my point, too. Cara has gotten a whiff of it somehow, probably while she was watching us during the work in the research lab and decided that we were together. Before she even spoke to me about it, she went off and told who knows how many people.

There’s literally no doubt in my mind that she wouldn’t do the exact same thing with the news of my pregnancy.

“That’s why you can’t tell her,” I say. “I haven’t told anyone else yet. I have my first check-up tomorrow, and I’m really scared about it. I just have a bad feeling, so I wanted someone else to know.”

A moment of silence, filled only by the music above us. Finally, Carter offers, “You want me to go with you?”

“You don’t want to know why I haven’t told Jackson?” I ask.

Carter shakes his head. “Not my business. But I can go with you if you want, so you aren’t there on your own.”

The smile that passes over my face must be bright enough to blind the sun. “Thank you,” I tell him, and make sure that I put a hell of an effort into bowling the rest of the night.

True to his word, Carter does meet up with me at Dr. Joyce’s the next day. Though he doesn’t specialize in this line of work, I’ve managed to get him to see me for the first appointment, just until I figured something else out.

It’s a lot easier going in there this time, knowing that Carter is in there with me. I sit on the uncomfortable, paper-covered table and Carter sits down in one of the chairs. The first thing he does when Dr. Joyce enters the room is hold up a hand and clarifies, “Not the father.”

“Not the father,” I agree, emphatically. I don’t want anyone thinking that I’ve been sleeping with Carter. We’re so, so not compatible. And I don’t want Jackson to hear about that either and get the wrong idea.

“Right,” says Dr. Joyce. “Well, it might be time to consider calling the father, whoever he might be.”

That seems very abrupt and very pointed.

Before I can respond, Dr. Joyce continues, “And it might be time for you to consider seeing a specialist, too. I don’t think that I can continue seeing you as my patient for this, Amanda. I don’t want that risk on my shoulders.”

My stomach drops straight down to my feet. “Risk? What are you talking about?”

Carter says, “How can a guy have bedside manners this bad, and have been in the business for this long? That’s seriously not how you break any kind of news to someone, let alone an expectant mother.”

I’m surprised by how quick Carter is to jump on Dr. Joyce’s case. He’s usually a laid-back kind of guy. The words have Dr. Joyce flushing.

“You’re right,” says Dr. Joyce. “This just… It isn’t something that I normally have to do.”

Pressing a hand to my belly, I demand of him, “Barry, what’s wrong with my baby?”

“Considering that we know several illnesses run in your family, I went ahead and did a few extra tests,” says Dr. Joyce. He looks between me and Carter and then shrugs. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to—Amanda, your child is going to be born with Margur’s disease.”

The sound that comes out of me is instinctive and inhuman. It’s a sudden gut punch, a slam into the pit of my stomach. The rug isn’t just pulled out from underneath me. The whole world has just dropped away. It’s like there’s nothing left but this moment.

“Margur’s?” I ask, my voice trembling and soft.

Dr. Joyce looks like he would rather be literally anywhere but right here. “I’m sorry, Amanda. I wish that I didn’t have to be the one to tell you this.”

“Amanda?” Carter asks, standing up and stepping toward me. “God, you should have brought Cara with you. She would have been way better at dealing with this.”

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