“No,” I snap. “No, that’s not possible. I have an IUD.”
Dr. Singh doesn’t speak, and I hear the tapping of keys on a keyboard. “Mrs. Morris, did Dr. Harris not explain that you’d need to start an alternative form of birth control when he removed your IUD?” he asks, his tone clearly confused.
“Excuse me? I haven’t had my IUD removed,” I gasp.
“Mrs. Morris, Dr. Harris removed your IUD almost a month ago. I’m looking at the consent form you signed to have the procedure performed while you were sedated right now. Is that not correct?”
Lifting my startled gaze from the cell, I raise my head until I’m staring into the smug, smiling face of my husband.
“Of course. I’m sorry. That night is a little hazy for me. I don’t really remember anything after I took the sedative,” I say robotically through gritted teeth.
The doctor’s chuckle is forced and awkward. “I’m going to write you a script for some prenatal vitamins, and I’d recommend you schedule an appointment with an OBGYN for an exam and an ultrasound in a couple of weeks. Once again, congratulations.”
“Thank you, Dr. Singh,” Evan says, ending the call without looking away from me.
“What did you do?” I whisper.
“I made you mine,” Evan says boldly, without an ounce of shame.
“I was already yours,” I shout, shoving my hand with my engagement and wedding rings into his chest. “How could you do this?”
“You wanted this, Sammy. You begged me over and over to breed you. To put my baby in your belly. And that’s exactly what I’ve done. You’re mine. This baby is mine,” he says, placing his palm on my stomach.
“You’ve ruined everything,” I say, my voice barely audible.
“Our baby couldn’t ruin anything. It just made everything even more perfect.”
“No, no, no,” I chant, tears filling my eyes. “This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to go this far,” I say absentmindedly.
“The plan?” he asks.
“Why did you do this? You had me, Evan. You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You came to me, you claimed me, you married me. This is supposed to be our happy ever after, not the time to have a fucking baby. Why couldn’t you just stick with the plan?”
“What. Fucking. Plan?” he yells, his eyes narrowed to slits as he straightens, his hand tense, even as it still covers my stomach.
“We knew you’d never make a move on your own.”
“What?”
“Would you ever have crawled out of your pit of guilt and despair if I hadn’t gotten engaged to Drew?”
“Sammy, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, his tone terse, confused, and furious all at the same time.
“You’re mine, Evan, you always have been. I know it, you know it, but you weren’t making a move. You were too busy being miserable, content to just watch me date other guys.”
“What did you do, Sammy?” he questions.
Blinking, I let an angry grin spread across my lips. “I made you mine.”
Three Months Earlier
“Come home,” Starling insisted. “I have an idea that will fix everything.”
Shaking my head, I laughed softly. “Evan and I can’t be fixed. I told him how I feel, and he rejected me.”
“He rejected you because he’s an idiot. But we can fix that. Do you remember when I told you how I yelled at Clay and told him how fucked up all the stuff they were allowing Sebastian to do to me was?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I think so.”