Page 103 of Dubious Match
“Good deal,” he says, nodding his head. “I wouldn’t have thought to do that.”
“It’s taller than I am, so I may need some help,” I tease. The windows in this room are very high to match the ceiling, and the snow falling gives a calming effect.
Duncan helps me by holding the bag while I get the cannula into Quinn’s vein. I move quickly so she doesn’t even twitch, and soon her eyes close as she relaxes and Duncan hangs up the bag.
“How is she sleeping?” I ask, my gaze on her face. There’s some bruising under her eyes, telling me she’s not.
“Nausea and nightmares don’t mix,” Linus says softly, rubbing Quinn’s temples.
She hums under her breath as she falls deeper asleep. I don’t even care if I have to come back next week for her vitals. I see her once a month at the moment, and the knowledge that she’s catching up on some much needed sleep is good enough for me.
“I bet they don’t,” I murmur, moving to sit down. “Some women have more vivid dreams during pregnancy. With her history, that’s not going to help her nightmares. Is she still going to therapy sessions?”
Pack Kelly was really open about any worries and concerns they had, along with Quinn’s past. They wanted to make sure that I could handle anything that may come up that she’d want to talk about.
My heart breaks for her, but I’m so happy for the happiness she’s working so hard for now.
“We both are,” Linus says with a bob of his head. “Sometimes, the sessions can make things worse because it rips open healing wounds. Those are the nights she wakes up screaming.”
Biting my lip, I hum under my breath.
“How do you feel about a low dose anti-depression medication?” I ask.
One of her alphas mutters in Spanish, and I raise my brow.
“Rude,” I grunt. “I totally know what I’m doing, and yes I can prescribe medication. It won’t hinder Quinn’s ability to heal, but it could help her sleep better.”
He’s too far to hit, so Callum takes off his shoe and throws it at him. It manages to hit him perfectly, making me smirk as I turn back to Quinn. Her breaths are even, and she’s even beginning to snore lightly.
“My apologies,” Christian says. “I hate that she’s not sleeping, and she can’t keep very much down.”
“That’s completely normal. I’m sure Adira has let you know this,” I remind him. “I also understand the worries attached to becoming parents for the first time.”
“Yes,” Christian says, sighing heavily. “Do you have any suggestions for foods that would be safe?”
“After this IV treatment, she won’t be as nauseous,” I explain. “I would start with toast, pancakes, and move up to rice with some shredded chicken. Any food she’s able to eat is a win. Quinn is underweight because of her past, but the baby is doing great.”
“We’re all so excited,” Callum says. “It feels as if we’re being pulled in different directions in our emotions, though. Is that normal? I know pregnancy is going to be hard for Quinn.”
“Doesn’t need to be,” I say, shaking my head. “Look, if there’s something that comes up, we address it, just like we are now.Hydration IVs until we hopefully move out of the nausea stage, a chiropractor if her body is sore as the baby grows, etc.”
“Can she still dance?” Linus asks. “It’s been a point of contention.”
Duncan and Callum growl under their breaths while Christian hides a smile.
“I need more information than that, please,” I say politely. “Dance how? She should still be stretching, because as a dancer, she’ll feel worse if she doesn’t. Her body should do the things that it’s used to. Just like a runner can continue to run throughout their pregnancy.”
“She dances at a club in a cage, and I worry if it’s safe,” Duncan says. “I’m trying really hard not to put her in a bubble.”
“She’s barely showing any signs of pregnancy,” I say. “I think she should dance for as long as she can. Exercise will help to tire her out so she can sleep too, and also should build up her appetite as soon as we can curb this nausea.”
“Well shit,” Duncan mutters. “Pass me the computer, Callum.”
“What are you doing?” Linus asks, smirking.
“Buying her more of those adorable leotards and a better padded stretching mat,” he grumbles. “Three weeks of arguing and I just should have asked Nova.”
A snort escapes as I cover my face, and then I’m giggling. It feels nice to do something other than cry.
