She’s not happy I’m here. Sheispale, though.
And tired. There’s a sheen of sweat at her temple, and the top she has on underneath her coat is stretched tight across her bump.
“You didn’t need to come,” she mutters.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy scanning her. Eyes to belly. Belly to face. I take in the slight shake in her hand when she unscrews the cap on her water.
Heidi lingers behind me. “Vitals are stable, and baby’s moving well. She just looked off, and I didn’t wanna take chances.”
Carina lets out a frustrated exhale and takes another sip of water, her eyes darting to Heidi, then back to me.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“You don’t look fine,” I say tightly.
Heidi lifts her hands like she already regrets getting involved. “Alright, I’m not in this. Just didn’t want her passing out before the scan.”
Carina mutters something under her breath, but Heidi’s already backing toward the door.
“Scan’s in an hour anyway,” she adds. “Why don’t you just take her now, Reid? Get there early and give her a breather.”
“I’mright here,” Carina snaps, but her voice lacks bite.
Heidi gives me a look, then ducks out, letting the door click softly behind her.
It’s quiet for a second.
Carina adjusts her posture like she’s fine, like she hasn’t been scaring the shit out of me for the past half hour. She won’t meet my eyes, so I move closer, lowering onto the bench beside her.
“You fainted?”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t faint. I stood up too fast, skipped lunch, and Heidi decided to escalate.”
“Skipped lunch again,” I say quietly.
That gets me a glance—a sharp, annoyed one—but I hold firm.
“You’ve been pushing hard lately.”
“I always push hard, that’s not new.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “But you’re not on your own anymore. I can help.”
Her expression shutters at that.
“I didn’t ask you to come,” she says. “Heidi shouldn’t have called.”
“I’m glad she did.”
More silence.
Carina looks down at her hands. They’re folded neatly in her lap, but her thumb keeps brushing the curve of her belly like she’s trying to anchor herself.
“I love you.” I watch her for a beat. “And I worry the fuck about you, and I’m trying really hard to not be overbearing. But if you refuse to sit down and take a break at twenty-one weeks pregnant—”
“Twenty-one and a half,” she snaps. “And you think I don’t know my limits?”
“I think you ignore them.”
