Page 88 of Leave Before I Love You
She leaves, and I reassume the fetal position, tucking my knees to my chest and rocking myself.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, and the nurse holds it open for a beautiful redhead in a lab coat with an air of authority about her as she enters. “Hi, I’m Dr. Moretti,” she introduces herself. “And you must be Avery.”
I nod.
“I hear you just got some big news.”
I shake my head. “No, no. No news. Because your tests are wrong. They have to be.”
Dr. Moretti smiles. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with our tests, Avery, but I do understand the shock that comes with finding out you’re pregnant, if it’s not something you’ve been planning for.”
“With all due respect, there’s no way I’m pregnant, okay? It’s…impossible. Immaculata, you know?”
“Immaculate?”
“Yes! That!”
“Are you saying you haven’t had sex, Avery?” Dr. Moretti asks, her beautifully shaped brows drawing together.
“Ye—well. Technically, no. But, like, Ijuststarted. Twenty-seven years of no boom-boom in the hoom-hoom, and I finally do it, and you’re telling me it made a baby?” I shake my head. “No way.”
Dr. Moretti smiles, glancing back at the nurse and nodding. “Okay. Let’s do an ultrasound, just to get a look for sure if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Yes!” I nod. “Please. I need to feel better.”
Her smile is conciliatory in a way I don’t like, so instead of focusing on her, I ignore it.
“So, let’s do it. Whip that thing out,” I say, pulling up my shirt.
Dr. Moretti’s smile lifts to her eyes. “Because of the suspected early progression of the pregnancy, we’ll need to do the ultrasound transvaginally. Nurse Higgins and I will step out. You’ll remove your clothes and then put on this paper gown with the opening in the front, okay? We’ll come back with the machine when you’re ready.”
I nod woodenly, despite not liking the sound of the word “transvaginally” at all.
The nurse hands me a gown before her and Dr. Moretti leave the room. And I do as I’m told, my hands shaking as I remove my Louboutins and jeans and panties, and shortly after my bare ass hits the scratchy-paper-covered table, there are three soft knocks to the door.
“You can come in.”
Dr. Moretti and her nurse step back inside, and the nurse turns down the lights.
“Now, since we’re not sure how far along you are, we’re going to have to start with a vaginal ultrasound,” the doctor explains again. “It won’t hurt. You’ll just feel some pressure. Go ahead and spread your legs for me, and scoot down on the table if you can.”
Good grief, the things women have to go through.
I hold my breath, and just like that, things arestarted.
I can feel her moving the wand around inside me, and I close my eyes tightly, refusing to look at the screen.
“Okay, Avery,” she says after a moment. “I can confirm that you are pregnant. You look to be about eight weeks along.”
My eyes fly open. “Eight weeks?”
“Yes,” she says. “I’d say your date of conception is on or around January 10th or so.”
January 10th?While we were still on the island.
“Holy fucking shit,” I blurt out in a rush. “Did I get pregnant the first time I had sex? What is this, an episode ofThe Secret Life of the American Teenager? Am I Amy Juergens?”
Dr. Moretti raises an eyebrow. “Well, I can assure you that it’s not a TV show. But yes, it does happen.”
