Page 23 of Reclaiming Kendall

Rolling my eyes again, I let Lucas repeat our conversation in answer to Mav’s question as we make our way out of the building.

***

I hop into my 4Runner still in shock. I’d taken Lucas’s words to heart last night and made an appointment with our family doctor. After telling them my symptoms this morning, they decided to see me right away. That was my first surprise of the day. The second was when they referred me to my OBGYN to run some tests.

Nurses from both offices asked me if there was a possibility I was pregnant, and I’d told them not a chance. Or, at least I didn’t think so. The guys never wore protection, but I’d been getting my birth control shots every six months with our family doctor. I know they aren’t fool-proof, but I figured I’d know if I was carrying a baby inside of me, surely.

My thoughts had been jumbled the whole time I’d waited for my test results to come back. A little flutter filled my chest as pictures of tiny carbon copies of my husbands running around our house played in my head. We’d discussed kids before, and no one was opposed, though, we wanted to wait a few more years. I seriously doubted any of them would complain if we had one now. I know I wouldn’t. Especially imagining how good of fathers they would be. Even Grant who is terrified of turning out like his dickhead dad. None of us would ever let that happen.

Sitting for at least an hour and a half with these thoughts running rampant, when the doctor returned carrying my chart I’d almost jumped out of my chair with joy.

“Mrs. Michaels,” she starts with a tone that has my smile dropping instantly. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

My hands close into fists on top of my thighs as I nod for her to continue.

She takes a deep breath before pulling her dark-brown eyes up to mine, “You’re not pregnant.”

A whoosh of air escapes me. If that’s the worst she’s got, then I can accept it; even if I had my hopes up for a few minutes.

“That’s okay,” I respond. “We weren’t planning on having any for a few years, anyway, so it’s not awful news.”

Her lips turn down into a thin line, “Well, that’s not exactly it. When you first started coming here a couple years ago after your accident, remember we did ultrasounds and all of the extra tests to check to see how your lower abdomen was healing? We never noticed before, maybe because we weren’t looking directly for it, but you’ve got quite a bit of scar tissue from the bullet wound in the top part of your fallopian tube. There’s a small chance that you may never be able to have children.”

Behind the wheel of the car now, it still feels like a sucker punch to my chest as much as the first time she said it. She’d went on to tell me that my body is adjusting from all of the sex we’d had on the honeymoon, and it had thrown my hormone levels off. She said everything should return to normal, but if not, then we’d have to check into different forms of birth control that would help it along.

All of that is fine and dandy. It’s fixable. What’s put a knot in my stomach, making it difficult to not puke on the nice clean leather seats of my car, is the fact that I’m likely broken. What if I’m not ever able to have children? I feel like that should’ve been disclosed before we got married. No man wants a broken woman who can’t mother children.

Hot tears threaten to slip down my checks, but I’ve got to hold it in. The guys will take one look at my puffy eyes and will demand to know what’s going on. I’m just not sure I’m ready to tell them yet.

I try my best to push it to the back of my mind all day, cursing Ry for canceling all of my appointments; I’d welcome the distraction today. Instead, I stay away from the house, running different errands. Going on autopilot, I spend way longer than necessary at the grocery store.

As I make it home, Mav meets me out in the garage to help carry in the random food I bought. He stops me as I go to move inside, “How did the doctor visit go?”

“It was okay,” I lie. His eyes narrow in suspicion, but he releases the arm he’s got a hold of and turns to grab the last of the bags from the back.

I’m so busy putting everything away that I don’t even realize Mav hovers just out of sight. When I put the bags in the recycling bin in the pantry, he sneaks up behind me, “There hasn’t been a single time in this house that you’ve come home and not immediately let us welcome you home with a hug or kiss.”

He snakes an arm around my waist from behind and drops a kiss to the side of my neck, “I don’t know what happened, but when you’re ready to talk about it, you know where to find me. And, baby girl, remember you aren’t fighting battles alone anymore. We’ll handle whatever it is together.”

With another lingering press of his lips to my neck, he leaves me standing in the dark pantry, throat burning from the sob I’m fighting back. I give him a few minutes to find his way back to his office. If I have to face him again right now, I know I’ll break. When I’m sure enough time has passed, I race upstairs to my old room. The urge to keep going up to our new room was strong, but I didn’t need another reminder of holding so much disappointment in my hands. Not just for one man, but four.

A rational part of my brain tells me that I’m probably overreacting. The doc did say that it was a possibility not a reality yet. I know that the hormones are playing a major part in my freak out, but I can’t stop it. On top of all the odd feelings I’ve been having for the past week or so and the bone deep exhaustion, I just want to sleep for like a week. My sigh is deep when it dawns that my old acquaintance depression has been worming its way back inside. This time I know it’s from the hormones, because I couldn’t possibly be any happier than I am.

You may want to hold that thought until after you tell your husbands you can’t have their children.

I groan at that little voice of doubt in the back of my mind. Pushing up off the bed, I strip down while walking towards the bathroom. Maybe a super-hot shower will relieve some of the tension in my body, and I can finally let these tears loose without worry.

Thirty minutes later, I’m cried out and feeling more exhausted than ever. My body is as red a fucking lobster, and it wasn’t even worth it because I feel even worse now than before I stepped in.

Tossing my towel-dried hair up into a messy bun, I walk back out into the room to find some clothes. I’m pulling a sports bra and soft sweater over the tops of my leggings when my phone goes off. As I check it, I almost face-palm myself to yesterday. With the overwhelming load of information, I got today, I completely spaced and forgot Ry, Logan, and the others were coming over tonight for dinner. Well if nothing else, it’ll be a good buffer, so the guys won’t pick up on my mood. Or, if they do, they won’t approach me about it until everyone leaves.

I shoot her a quick reply confirming we’re still on for dinner. Putting on the best face I feel I can manage; I make my way back downstairs. Over the next hour or so, I focus on cooking dinner for everyone. Thankfully, Mav stays locked up in his office and doesn’t come back out to pressure the truth from me.

I’m just taking the ravioli lasagna out of the oven when I hear the door to the garage open. Fixing a smile on my face, I turn towards the footsteps.

Teagan comes around the corner, blond hair swaying while he rubs at his stomach, “Jesus, sweets. Something smells so fucking good in here.”

He rushes the last couple of steps towards me and wraps my body up in his arms as he presses a kiss against the side of my head, “Of course, dinner smells good, too.”

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