Page 53 of Capitally Unexpected

“Is something wrong with the IV? Her vein?” I stand up to look.

“Oh, no. I mean, she did surprise me with her answer, but no damage done. A bit more of a pinch than there should have been, I’m sorry. I mean, the waiver saying you weren’t boarding the boat past twenty-three weeks pregnant.”

I sit back down. Fuck. I skimmed through the waivers before I signed them, but never thought to check about any pregnancy restrictions. She can fly until thirty-six weeks, maybe a little less if her blood pressure rises. Why would this be any different?

“Why is that the rule? I can fly for another twelve weeks.”

“Because unlike an airplane, we can’t make an emergency landing if something goes wrong.” A sharp voice filters in from the entrance to the infirmary.

Chapter

Twenty

Hunter

Twenty-four weeks pregnant

“Dr. Patricia Gibson. I’m the ship’s doctor. So. You decided you could ignore the line in the waiver about the pregnancy limit and cross your fingers nothing bad happened?” She pinches the skin on Michelle’s hand to watch how long it takes to fall back into place. “This looks like dehydration. Probably didn’t drink enough water when boarding yesterday. With the proneness toward nausea, the choppier surf today sealed your fate.”

She turns her eyes on both Michelle and me in turn. Michelle looks at me too. She didn’t call me on the waiver thing yesterday, but I know it’s my fuck-up to speak up for now. “This probably isn’t much better than disregarding it, but we . . . I didn’t see the clause. I signed for both of us. We only booked a few weeks ago. This is the only time we can get away. Things with work were so busy, and I forgot about the waivers and signed them without looking for anything about pregnancy. My assumption was along the flying timeline too. I’d ...” My voicecatches, and Michelle grabs my hand and squeezes it once. It’s a reassurance I don’t deserve. “I’d never knowingly put her in danger. Please, is she going to be okay?” I look searchingly at Dr. Gibson and the PA. The doctor’s face morphs into something slightly more sympathetic. “We’re going to keep her in here until we anchor later this afternoon and keep an eye on her levels. If it’s simply dehydration, like I assume it is, she’s going to be just fine with rest and more fluids.”

The band around my chest loosens another notch. “Thank you.” The rest of what she said replays in my head. “Wait, anchor this afternoon? The first port isn’t until tomorrow morning, right?”

The sympathy leaves Dr. Gibson’s face and is replaced by something more stoic, like you would find on a general who has to give orders to her troops she disagrees with. “The cruise line’s policy is if you’re more than twenty-three weeks pregnant while on board, we have to remove you at the next viable port option. That’s Eleuthera. They have a small clinic and planes come in and out of the airport a few times a week. It’s been a while since I last looked at their schedule, but they usually have a small charter departing on Saturday afternoons. We might make it in time.”

Michelle’s mouth opens in shock. “You just . . . leave us there?”

“I am sorry, Ms. Lewis. It’s for your own safety.”

I want to rage there’s nothing safe about leaving a pregnant woman on an island without a guaranteed way off and a “small clinic.” The urge to upend the neatly organized medical supplies on the shelf along the wall across from me simmers underneath my skin. But I’ve already caused enough trouble. I won’t make this any worse for us.

“We understand,” I say. Michelle whips her head in my direction in shock.

Dr. Gibson presses a button. “Bill, do you want to help Mr. Brandt pack up their cabin? I’ll stay with Ms. Lewis.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A porter steps through the doorway from who the fuck knows where. I stand up to follow him, dropping Michelle’s hand. I follow Bill out without looking back. The band around my chest is tighter than ever, threatening to cut off my oxygen. Only a handful of hours ago, I woke up, having everything I never knew I wanted in my arms. And now, I’ve risked them. For what? To play the romantic? The guy who woos the girl? That’s not my role.

Hours later, Michelle’s coloring is much better. I force myself to meet her eyes as they get us on a smaller boat to make our way to Eleuthera. All the sparkle, the shimmer that matched the stars we watched last night, has disappeared. I snuffed it out.

I instead watch the people standing on their balconies and against the railing, watching us leave them behind. Michelle leans into my side then, and I tuck her under my arm. Not because I deserve to be her shelter, but because no one should think she did anything to get us this treatment. It’s all on me.

The crew member who brought us over makes sure we flag down a rickshaw pulled by a bike before taking off. The driver straps our luggage in.

“Airport?” he asks. It seems like this isn’t the first time two people have arrived on his island off a large boat like this.

“Yes, please,” Michelle says. He starts pedaling and turns up a radio, the sound carrying on the wind as we move away from the shore.

“Hunter.” She touches my arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

Despite my best intentions, I’m not able to hold back my scoff. “How is this not my fault? First, I didn’t consider hurricane season when I booked, but luck and weather patterns bailed me out of that one. I didn’t tell you there was a waiver. I forged your signature. Fuck, I’m pretty sure you should sue me. Duncan can find you a lawyer.”

Saying Duncan’s name brings forward the thought I’ve been trying to bat away all afternoon. One call to Duncan will solve allthis. But I’ll also have to admit to my oldest brother I fucked up and need him to save me.Again.

Michelle sits up straighter, prepared to argue with me. “I could have researched what I needed to know about going on a cruise pregnant. I mean, I did look things up, but not that part. What sunscreen can I wear? Pregnancy sea sickness prevention methods. Remember, it took two of us to board the boat. You’re not alone in this.” She repeats a variation on the words I said to her weeks ago, but they don’t penetrate the buzzing in my head.

A buzzing sound outside my head grows louder, and I watch as a plane takes off from behind the buildings in front of us and into the sky. It grows smaller and smaller as it gains height and distance.

“There must be a chance of weather between here and the mainland,” our driver calls over his shoulder. “Sometimes they run ahead of schedule if they have everything they know they’re waiting on. There’s another plane on Wednesday. I can take you to the airport to check on space and then get you somewhere to stay for a couple days.”

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