Page 2 of Flawed

If only I'd never laid eyes on Luca.

Dr. Depeckin takes a few deep breaths, adding to my stress. "When's the last time you had sex?"

The heat in my cheeks burns hotter. I exaggerate, stating, "It was months ago."

"How long?"

Why is he pushing me about this?

I shrug, admitting, "Less than two months ago. But I'm not sexually active right now. And it was only once! I don't sleep around!"

Why did I add that last part?

"Ms. Moulin, did you use any protection?" he questions.

More embarrassment floods me. Visuals of Luca's muscular frame caged over my body, the warmth of his strong arms around me, and the pressure of his lips feels as real as that night. His thick Italian accent, stating dirty phrases in both English and Italian during our encounter, never quiet. I squeeze my legs together, trying to alleviate the ache I always feel whenever I think about him.

"Ms. Moulin?" Dr. Depeckin snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Ummm... I ummm..."

"I'll take that as a no?" he asserts.

"I'm on the pill," I blurt out, wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

This is so humiliating.

He runs his hand through his graying hair and motions to the desk chair. "Have a seat." He takes the one across from mine.

I obey, preparing myself for the lecture about safe sex. I announce, "I promise I'll be smarter next time and use a condom."

An expression I can't interpret fills his face. He clears his throat then states, "That would be a better choice. Now, please tell me if you've experienced any nausea?"

Why would I have that?

I answer, "No."

"Tender breasts?"

I internally groan, wondering if he's determined to continue shaming me, and reply, "No."

He leans closer. "Your form said you don't remember the last time you got your period."

The smell of his Old Spice cologne makes my stomach churn.

Maybe I should tell him it's time to get a new scent?

I shrug again. "I've never been regular. It's in my chart."

"Ms. Moulin, did you take all your birth control pills as prescribed?”

"Yes. Of course I did."

A tense moment of silence passes. He studies me then announces, "Then your pill failed. You're pregnant."

A nervous laugh escapes me. "That's not funny."

His face turns sterner. "I'm not joking."

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