Grant
The waiting room is packed with pregnant women. I've been in a thousand high-stakes meetings, negotiated deals worth hundreds of millions, but sitting here on this uncomfortable chair with a three-month-old copy ofParentingmagazine on my lap, I feel completely out of my depth.
Emma sits beside me, filling out forms on a clipboard. Her knee bounces—a nervous habit I've noticed more and more recently. I want to reach over and still it with my hand, but I'm not sure if that would comfort her or make her more anxious.
We've spent nearly every night together since the dinner that ended in my bedroom. She hasn't moved into the Tribeca apartment—and I won’t bring it up for fear that she’ll freak out—but she shows up at my place after work, and we talk about everything and nothing until she falls asleep on my couch while I’m rubbing her feet. Then I carry her to bed.
Yesterday afternoon, she called me in a panic. She had started bleeding a little and was certain she was losing the babies. I got in touch with someone at the practice I know specializes in multiple pregnancies and a nurse called Ella and talked her through the situation. She told her to rest for the restof the day and made an appointment for her to come in today to see a doctor.
The spotting stopped last night, but she’s still shaken up by the whole thing.
"They want my insurance information," Emma says, her voice tight. "I have it through the plan I got when I started Essence, but the deductible is insane, and I don't know if it even covers?—"
"Use mine."
She looks up from the clipboard. "What?"
"My insurance. I can add you to my policy." I keep my voice casual, like I'm suggesting where to order dinner. "The coverage is comprehensive, and there's no deductible for prenatal care or delivery."
"Grant—"
"It makes sense and I should have thought of it earlier." I meet her eyes, reading the panic starting to build there. "You need good coverage for a twin pregnancy—and the best care possible."
Her jaw tightens, and I can see her fighting with herself. The independent part of her that wants to handle everything alone, warring with the practical part that knows twin pregnancies aren't cheap.
"Okay," she says finally. "Thank you."
The concession costs her. I can see it in the way her shoulders curve inward slightly, like she's bracing for me to take over more of her life now that she's accepted this one thing.
I lean closer, lowering my voice even though the waiting room is mostly empty. "Emma. Look at me."
She does, and I see fear in her eyes. Fear of what accepting my help means.
"This is just insurance," I say gently. "I'm not going to use this as leverage to make decisions about your body or your business or your life. It's just practical support. That's all."
Her breath shudders out. "Sorry. I know you're not—I know you're trying to help. I just?—"
"I know." I reach for her hand then, threading my fingers through hers. "But we're in this together, remember? That's what we agreed."
She nods, squeezing my hand.
I text my head of HR and ask her to add Emma to my plan immediately.
A nurse appears in the doorway, calling Emma's name. We both stand, and I follow Emma down a hallway to the exam room. The nurse weighs Emma, takes her blood pressure, and asks her a series of questions.
"Dr. Martelle will be in shortly," the nurse says, handing Emma a folded gown. "Go ahead and change from the waist down, and she'll get started with the ultrasound."
The door clicks shut, and Emma stares at the gown like it's personally offended her.
"Do you want me to step out?" I ask.
"No." She sets down her purse and starts unbuttoning her jeans. "I just hate these things. They never close properly, and the paper crinkles every time you move, and—" She stops, pressing her lips together. "Sorry. I'm nervous."
"I know." I am too, though I'm trying not to show it. "Want me to distract you?"
"With what?"
"I could tell you about the Henderson acquisition. The whole thing fell through yesterday because the environmental survey came back with soil contamination issues that would cost more to remediate than the property's worth."
