Page 109 of Beautifully Wild

Yasmine rubs my back, and my face falls in my hands. “I really can’t be pregnant. I’m still living at home, for fuck’s sake.”

“Not for long,” Yasmine says and smiles. “We’re going to be one happy family here.”

I smile at her kindness. We’re jumping to conclusions, yet I panic every way I look at it. How do I tell Samuel? Christ, he doesn’t even reply to my texts. It’s something I’d have to say and not in a text.

Ugh, how do you tell someone over the phone?

Surely, I can’t visit him while pregnant.

“Don’t worry unless you have to.” Amy removes my glass and pours the wine into her glass. “Go to the doc and take it from there. To be on the safe side…” she raises her glass, “… no more alcohol for you.”

I sigh because right now I need a drink.

I set theNational Geographicmagazine on the chair beside me when my phone vibrates. I have every intention of ignoring it until I read Asoo’s name on the screen.

Asoo: Samuel misses you. Good you left Ulara. Samuel followed from his exploration by warrior from Watache tribe. Some cannibals. Shaman’s magic scare them away.

He was followed. What does that mean? Is another tribe angry at them? I had read somewhere that cannibalism still existed, only I thought it was deeper in the Amazon. There are tourists and helicopters visiting Angel Falls not far away. Why can’t he just leave if his safety is jeopardized? There must be some clause in his contract. Honestly, I think he enjoys the element of danger when he has to ramp up measures for his safety. I shake my head and try to picture him here with me. I want to believe we could live happily together, but I have no idea how long he’d survive in society without it depressing him.

He’d have me.

“Eden Monteford.”

I look up to the doctor calling my name and follow her along a hallway.

After another urine test and physical examination, she tells me I’m pregnant and writes a referral to an obstetrician. She removes the rod from my arm and sutures the incision.

“Malaria medication can be detrimental to the fetus. You also ingested ayahuasca, and my knowledge is limited regarding these teas. You can discuss this in more detail with the obstetrician.” She peers at me over the rim of her glasses with a tight, serious expression. “My calculation is a January baby, although it’s a broad guess considering you haven’t menstruated in some time, and the times of sexual intercourse were spread over a couple of months.”

I nod. The rough lump in the back of my throat burns, and I’m afraid to speak. The moment I open my mouth, I know the damn tears will come. I’ve cried more since I returned from South America than I have in a long while. I should’ve picked up that it was a sign of hormone overload.

“Good luck,” she says as though I’ll need it.

On the drive home, my thoughts race to Samuel and my father and how to break the news to both. Or do I?

The photo of Gran holding a baby in the jungle is like a snapshot of my future. I can’t shake the image out of my head, and I can’t help believing it means something more.

Is Dad right… am I like Gran?

I let out a sigh. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. If I decide to visit Samuel and tell him about our baby, I have to be aware of the many things that can go wrong. Shit. Is it how Gran lost her daughter? Or was it the malaria prevention medication? Did they even have those meds in the 1960s?

I have to take each day as it comes.

Making my way up the stairs, I head directly to my room to be alone and process everything.

“Eden.”

I turn to my father stepping out of his bedroom.

“Do you have a moment?” His brow pulls tight, and his eyes flick over my face. “I don’t want us fighting anymore. I haven’t properly apologized for my reaction at dinner. Your mother has informed me she has enlightened you on why I felt strongly about you avoiding the jungle.”

“Yes, she—”

“It’s still no excuse not to trust you. I apologize.”

“Dad, I understand.”

He runs a hand over his head. “I may have earned myself a few more gray hairs in the meantime.” He chuckles low.

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