Page 66 of Mile High Daddy

17

LILA

The waiting room smells like antiseptic and lavender, an odd but strangely comforting mix. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my already fraying nerves. Soft chatter fills the space—the occasional giggle from an excited expectant mother, the rustle of magazines being flipped through, the beeping of the receptionist’s computer.

I sit in the corner, my hands folded in my lap, my sweater pulled loosely around me.

I blend in here.

I look like any other soon-to-be mother, waiting to check on my baby.

But unlike the other women in this room, I’malone.

A few seats away, a couple murmurs softly to each other. The man rests his hand on his wife’s belly, grinning as she talks excitedly about feeling the baby kick. Across from me, another soon-to-be father leans over a pregnancy book, his arm draped protectively around his partner’s shoulders.

The sight of them sends a dull ache through my chest.

I turn away.

I made my choice. Iran.

I can’t allow myself to wonder what it would be like if Mikhail were here.

He wouldn’t sit here, murmuring about baby kicks. He wouldn’t rub my belly in public or readWhat to Expect When You’re Expecting.

But hewouldbe here.

And I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.

“Leah Carter?”

I snap out of my thoughts as the nurse calls my name.

I stand quickly, gripping my bag as I follow her down the hall. The exam room is quiet, sterile, a light pink curtain pulled to one side.

Dr. Reynolds is already there, greeting me with a warm smile. She’s been my doctor since I arrived in Camden Hill—a kind woman with sharp blue eyes and a no-nonsense approach that somehow never feels harsh.

“How are we feeling today?” she asks, rolling her stool forward as she gestures for me to sit.

I settle onto the cushioned chair, exhaling slowly. “Good. Mostly.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “Mostly?”

I hesitate, shifting. “Just…a little more tired than usual.”

She hums knowingly, flipping through my chart. “That’s normal. You’re nearing the home stretch now—around seven months in. How’s the baby?”

I place a hand on my belly instinctively. “Moving a lot,” I admit with a small smile. “Especially at night.”

Dr. Reynolds chuckles. “Ah, a night owl. That’ll be fun for you.”

I let out a soft laugh, but it fades quickly.

She glances at me, something understanding in her gaze. “Are you feeling okay emotionally?”

I tense. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t look convinced.

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