Page 64 of Pretty Little Disaster

“Given the nature of what you were doing before you called, I’d assume it was nothing more than female ejaculation that gave you cause for concern,” Dr Walsh explains, making me want to die. “I can assure you both that everything is still very much intact. You won’t be the first, or the last, to make that misjudgment, and it’s always best to check.” He snaps the gloves off his hands and I close my eyes in shame.

“You're sure you feel okay, no contractions?” Nic checks, despite what we’ve just been told.

“I’m positive, now can we just go home?”

“I need to get back to my routine patients, are there any other questions?” Dr Walsh asks as he makes his way to the door.

“No, we’ll see you in two weeks.” I smile, wondering how I’m ever going to face the man again as he leaves.

“That was scary, I thought things were really happening.” Nic lets out a long, deep breath once we’re alone.

“I know you did, all the way here I had to keep remindingyouto breathe.” I stand up and attempt to make myself decent.

“How were you so calm?” Nic gets up from the chair he’s sitting in so he can help me.

“Because I wasn’t in any pain, and someone had to keep you calm.” I laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He strokes the side of my stomach, still looking sick with worry.

“Well, next time don’t make me come so hard.” I kiss his lips before sliding back into my shoes.

“We’re taking it easy from now on. I don’t want any more false alarms, not until this little one’s ready,” he warns, smothering me with more tummy rubs.

“That doesn’t sound like much fun at all.” I roll my eyes and head for the door. If anything has come from this, it’s the fact I’m feeling a lot more confident than I was a few hours ago about this whole birthing thing. At least now I know that one of us can hold it together.

NIC

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Are you sure you're up to this?” I ask as she waddles her way toward the elevator.

“Of course, I’m sure. I didn’t waste hours finding something that would fit, to stay at home.” She’s sensitive and irritable, but that's totally understandable. We had a doctor’s appointment today and Dr Walsh told us the baby's head’s now engaged. The baby could come anytime and Lorna’s gone through a range of different emotions since hearing the news. Excitement first, followed by fear, then came some panic and all that in just one afternoon.

“You look great,” I tell her, as she shuffles into the elevator and presses the button.

“I swear, if someone asks me when I’m due or when the wedding is happening, I will punch them in the throat.” She rests her shoulders back against the wall as we descend to the parking lot. “And if anyone tries to touch me–”

“ThenI’llpunch them in the throat,” I promise, stealing a kiss from her before the doors open.

“Truck or car?” I ask as we approach my parking bays, I brought both keys with me, just in case.

“I can’t climb into the truck, and I struggle to get out of the car so it doesn’t matter!” She bites my head off again, but I keep smiling as I head toward the car and open the passenger door for her. Taking her hand, I support her back as she slowly sinks into the seat.

“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I?” She pouts when I get behind the wheel.

“You're just being pregnant.” I start the engine and reverse out of my space.

“I’m just so tired, I’m hardly getting any sleep at night, and after what the doctor told us, I’m nervous. The scan he did said the baby already weighs six pounds, what if he stays in here for another four weeks?” She sighs heavily.

“You're not going to go another four weeks, you heard what the doctor said, he’s down and ready to go.” I try sounding positive, although I know from the reading I’ve been doing that first babies' heads can engage way before labor starts.

“So what is this thing we’re going to? Madalina was making it out to be a pretty big deal on the phone.” She shifts uncomfortably in the seat as I pull out onto the street.

“Every year, the Marchetti family organizes a silent auction for charity. Everyone goes and throws their weight around by bidding ridiculous amounts of money.”

“So, it’s a pissing contest?” She laughs.

“It is, but it’s for a good cause. Leandro and his wife usually hire a famous Michelin star chef to do the catering and there’s always an A-list band performing. It’s a good night.”

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