Page 20 of Secret Baby for the Billionaire Doctor

"That's great news!" I exclaim. "How much are they paying you?"

Ashlee takes a sip of her coffee before answering. "They are paying me $18,000 US dollars for the entire wedding planning process, from start to finish."

My eyes widen. "Wow, that's a lot of money. Congratulations, Ashlee! You really deserve it."

"Thanks, Ally," she says, beaming. "I am really excited about this project. It is going to be a big challenge, but I think I can pull it off."

I nod. "I have no doubt that you can. You are so talented and dedicated. I am really proud of you, sis."

Ashlee smiles. "Thanks, Ally. That means a lot to me."

I shoot a glance at the clock on the wall and my heart skips a beat. It is already 7:45 in the morning, and I have to be at the hospital by 8. I quickly gulp down the last of my coffee and stand up from the table.

"Ashlee, I have to run. I can't believe I lost track of time like this," I say, feeling a little flustered.

Ashlee looks up at me with a concerned expression. "Are you feeling okay, Ally?"

"I am fine. Why do you ask?" I reply, trying to mask the sudden wave of nausea that washes over me.

"It is just that you look a little pale," she says, narrowing her eyes at me.

I shrug it off. "I am just a little tired. I will be fine once I get to work."

As I make my way to my room, I feel a sudden urge to throw up. I run to the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Ashlee hears me from the living room and rushes to the bathroom.

"Are you okay, Ally? What is going on?" she asks, rubbing my back as I heave.

"I do not know. I just feel really nauseous all of a sudden," I say, feeling a little embarrassed.

Ashlee looks at me with a concerned expression. "Ally, when was the last time you had your period?"

I roll my eyes. "Ashlee, I'm not pregnant. I'm on the pill, remember?"

"But you had sex with Dante without protection twice," she argues.

I feel a sudden sense of panic rising in my chest. Would it be possible that I am pregnant? I shake my head, trying to push the thought away.

"I don't think I am," I say, trying to sound confident.

"Let's just be sure. I have a pregnancy test kit in the drawer. Pee on it," she says, handing me the kit.

I hesitate for a moment, but then decide to go through with it. As I wait for the results, I put on a new set of clothes and rush out of the house. I must be at the hospital before morning meeting at 8 AM so that I don’t get in trouble. I can't stop thinking about the possibility of being pregnant on my way to work. It's all I can do to keep my mind from going into overdrive.

When I finally arrive at the hospital, I go straight to the locker room to put on my scrubs. As I'm changing, I feel a sudden cramp in my lower abdomen. I wince in pain and have to sit down for a moment. Just then, my phone beeps. I look at the screen and see a message from Ashlee.

"Ally, the test is positive. You're pregnant."

I feel my world come crashing down around me. This’s the last news I wanted to receive today. How am I going to deal with this? How am I going to tell Dante? What about my career? I take a deep breath and try to compose myself before walking out of the locker room and heading to my shift. But my mind is racing with thoughts of the future and all the challenges that are ahead of me, especially with Dante and I still fighting. We cannot resolve our own issues, let alone adding a pregnancy to the mix.

I walk to our office and see it's empty; the rest of my colleagues have gone to make their rounds in the wards assigned to them. I decide to stay there for a while. As I sit there in the room, still in shock from the positive pregnancy test, Dante walks in. He looks concerned and asks me if I'm okay. I try to maintain my composure and tell him that I'm fine, but he can tell that something is off.

He asks me again, and again I lie, making up some excuse about feeling nauseous. I have to hide this from him for now.

He peers over at my phone, which I had carelessly flung onto the table, and sees the message from Ashlee.

He is dumbfounded and asks if it's his or if I have been seeing someone else secretly, mentioning Michael’s name again. I don't know what to say. I just sit there, frozen, unsure of how to respond. It's clear that he's in shock, and I don't want to add to his confusion and frustration.

As I sit here, I see the door open, and the rest of my colleagues walk in, including Dante's assistant, Dr. Peters. He is excited to see Dante and greets him warmly, but Dante is clearly not in his right state of mind. He walks out of the room with Dr. Peters, who is giving him a rundown of the patients' progress and an update on the performance of my fellow resident neurologists.

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