Page 77 of Enemies, Lovers & A Valentine's Baby

“You don’t have the flu, Ms. Smith.”

I stare at him puzzled. What does he mean I don’t have the flu? I definitely have something.

“Ms. Smith, you’re pregnant.”

My heart seems to skip ten beats, everything suddenly falling silent. The silence turns into a loud buzzing in my ears as the blood courses loudly through my veins.

“Wh—what?” I whisper, unable to blink, move, or even breathe.

There’s no way I heard that right. There’s no way I—I’m so sick my mind is playing tricks on me.

“What are you—what do you—” I stutter, unable to string together a full sentence.

“The symptoms you mentioned are common with the flu, but they’re also common with pregnancy, so I ran a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. Your symptoms are unusually strong this early into the pregnancy, but you’re one of the special cases where…”

It’s as If I’m outside of my body looking in. I can hear the words, but I can’t make sense of them. He’s not a very good doctor, is he? An infertile woman cannot get pregnant. Is this some cruel, inhumane joke?

“I don’t understand, doctor. How can I—how am I pregnant?” I ask, mouth hanging open and eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

“Well, typically, it happens when a man and a woman—”

“No, no! This isn’t funny. I’m very serious right now. Please don’t—if this is some kind of twisted joke, please just stop it right now, because I can’t handle this. I…I just can’t,” I whisper, a sob breaking out of me.

His own eyes mirror my shock and confusion. He genuinely doesn’t seem to know what is going on.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to upset you. In fact, I thought you were going to be happy with the news,” he explains, suddenly looking very uncomfortable.

Could he be serious? Could this really be happening to me?

My heart is slamming so hard against my chest that I worry it might break a rib. Just stringing my words together is a struggle as I look for answers to the most important question I’ve ever had to ask.

“But the doctor said I—I don’t understand. Are you sure?” I ask, the tiniest fraction of hope starting to bubble up in my chest. I’ve never hoped so desperately for something to be true.

“Yes. I already ran the test twice, as is customary with the policies of—”

“Run it again. Run it five times if that’s what it takes for you to confirm that it’s true,” I beg, reaching forward to clutch his hand in my ice cold, trembling ones.

“Ma’am—” he starts to protest, but I don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence.

“Please,” I whimper, tears streaming down my face. “You have no idea what this means for me. I just need you to confirm that it’s true. Please.”

He stares at me for a moment longer, his eyes softening at my clear distress.

“Okay, but you can expect the same results. You, ma’am, are very pregnant, and no number of tests is going to change that. But I’ll run them again, just to prove it to you.” He gives me a small smile, getting up from his seat and disappearing behind the curtain that leads to the lab area.

“Thank you,” I mutter to his retreating figure. I sit there, unable to do anything but breathe and pray. It seems impossible to believe that there’s any chance that this could be real, but just in case, I pray harder than I ever have in my life, promising anything in return if this could be true.

My head snaps up, eyes wide as saucers as the doctor comes back into the room.

“What did I tell you?” Dr. Gerald says triumphantly, slapping down another folded piece of paper in front of me. “You, Ms. Lila Smith, are approximately three weeks pregnant.”

Chapter 32

Against All Odds

Lila

Dazed and still very confused, I slip the key into the door, letting myself into my apartment. My movements feel automated, like a robot performing routine tasks. I am devoid of a heartbeat, except now, there are supposed to be two hearts beating inside of me.

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