We leave Leo and Wesley outside the bistro and sprint next door and up the steps of the OBGYN clinic.
This was the last place I expected to be, and I feel completely out of my depth. I felt less nervous walking into a shootout than I do right now.
A baby.
I knew something was bothering Riley, but this is not what I expected.
A baby changes everything, and not necessarily for the better.
It makes the stakes even bigger.
If Sean touches her now, he touches our child too.
Chapter Twenty-Five
RILEY
The clinic’swaiting room smells faintly of antiseptic and lavender, which is a strange enough combination as it is, but add in a sensitivity to smell and a nervous stomach, and it’s a recipe for disaster.
It’s a miracle I manage to check in without vomiting all over the reception desk.
My hands are clammy, and my throat is bone dry. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this nervous in my life.
What if the heartbeat’s even slower this time? What if there’s no heartbeat at all?
What if I’ve already lost this baby and I didn’t even know it?
I should be getting excited about cribs and tiny socks and arguing with Kieran over baby names.
I glance toward the doorway, half-expecting him to appear and lift me into his arms, promising me that everything will be okay.
But he isn’t here because of the choices I made, and now I have to face this uncertainty alone.
I force myself to breathe, but it’s useless. My mind is a carousel ofwhat ifsthat only seems to speed up.
Scrolling through my phone, I try to distract myself, but all that does is lead me back down the dark rabbit hole of pregnancy forums and medical articles I need to stop reading but I can’t.
My thumb scrolls on autopilot, and I continue to torture myself with worst-case scenarios until a message from Ciara pops up on the screen.
Ciara:You’ve got this, Riley. Your baby is a fighter, and so are you! I’m here if you need me. x
Her kind wordsare enough to trigger my tears, and before I know it, I’m full-on sobbing in the middle of the waiting room.
“Are you okay?”
I look up to find the woman sitting adjacent to me looking at me with concern.
“Oh uh, I’m fine.” I try to subtly wipe my eyes. “Just hormones.”
“Tell me about it.” She rubs at her small bump. “The slightest thing would set me off in the beginning. I’m so glad everything seems to have settled down now.”
“How far along are you?”
“Almost five months, which is crazy. It’s flown by, though I doubt my husband would agree.”
“What wouldn’t I agree on?” A man, who I assume is the husband, appears carrying a cup of water.
He hands it to his wife before taking the empty seat beside her and wrapping an arm protectively around her shoulders.
