She’s so tender. So vulnerable. So giving, and she barely knows me. If she’s upset that I’m left standing in the hall while she gets this private procedure, I can’t imagine how she’s going to feel when she carries our pups and then hands them off to a virtual stranger.
I know my heart will be broken when this time with her is over; that’s part of the deal. I just don’t want to break hers, too. She already has her happily-ever-after, right? I’m not trying to fuck it up. But I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to her.
I want her. I need her. Icraveher.She belongs with me.
It’s just the mate bond talking, but it’s so loud, louder than any sense or reason.
“Ian?” Helena’s head pokes out. “You can come in now.”
I go straight to Julia, who’s sitting up, still pink-cheeked but a little teary now. I grab her hand and squeeze, picking up where we left off. “Are you all right?”
She nods, blinking rapidly.
“Everything looks great,” Helena chirps. “Julia has plenty of observable ripening follicles. We can do an ovarian reserve blood panel if you want, but I really don’t think it’s necessary unless you two have trouble conceiving.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it. Julia nods in agreement, squeezing my hand back.
“I appreciate you answering all my questions,” she adds to Helena. “You were so helpful.”
“No trouble at all. You can message my answering service if you have any more, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I look forward to caring for you during your future pregnancy!”
After she leaves the room, Julia slides down from the table, still holding my hand.
“Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” I ask her, noticing a tear slip down her cheek. I’d kiss it away if I hadn’t already pushed my luck by calling her ‘baby.’ “Helena didn’t say anything that upset you, did she?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry I’m so emotional. She was really nice.”
“What’s bothering you, then?”
“I guess I didn’t expect to get good news. She said…this is stupid, I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much. But she said my ovaries are beautiful. What does that even mean?” She laughs through a few tears.
“Helena looks at a lot of ovaries, so she knows a beautiful one when she sees it,” I deadpan. Why am I not surprised that compliments make Julia cry?
She shakes her head. “She probably says that to everyone.”
“If your insides look anything like your outsides, they’re the prettiest ovaries in the world.”
Her disbelieving scoff is weak. “You must think I’m such a crybaby.”
I tip her trembling chin so she has to look me in the eyes. “I think you’re sweet and sensitive and compassionate. I think you’re not used to being seen or valued for the incredible person you are. I think compliments make you cry because you believe you don’t deserve them, but you do.”
“Stop it, you’re not helping,” she whispers, more tears tumbling down. But I can tell they’re not sad tears. A little tiny part of her heard the truth in my words.
There’s a box of tissues on the counter, so I swipe a few and hand them to her so she can dab her eyes with them before we leave the exam room.
When she collects herself, we head for the parking lot, still hand-in-hand.
She forgot her panties on the chair.
But I didn’t.
Chapter 8
Julia
I’m grateful for Ian’s strong, callused grip on my left hand, because I’m feeling pretty wobbly as we exit the clinic. Bright new information from the appointment swirls in my mind, much like the breeze-blown leaves scudding across the parking lot: Ian is ten years younger than me. A wulver pregnancy lasts seventy-five days. And my ovaries are beautiful. They’re ready to go. If I got pregnant this cycle, I could have a litter before the end of the year.
Am I really going to do this?I mightbe.
