“Riley. Stop. You don’t get to apologize for being scared. That’s what I’m here for.”
“But you?—”
“I’m fine. I have Ronan and Elena and countless other help to make sure I don’t even have to wipe my own butt if I don’t want to. You, on the other hand, are carrying this on your own. So no, don’t you dare feel guilty for needing me.”
The tears stream down my cheeks, and I press my palms against my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.
“Listen to me. You don’t know what’s going to happen. None of us do. So, don’t torture yourself until you have something real to torture yourself about.”
I take a shuddering breath as I lower my hands to my lap. “That’s easier said than done.”
“Of course, it is. But you’re stronger than you think. And your baby is stronger than you think, too.”
I nod, but the fear is still there, slowly suffocating me.
God, I want to believe her, I really do. But how can I ignore the facts when they’re staring at me in the face?
“What’s your next appointment?”
“In a few days.”
“And does Kieran know?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think it’s time you tell him? It sounds like you’ll need the support.”
I shake my head. “I can’t tell him. Not until I know for sure what’s going on. I don’t want to give him anything else to worry about. He’s already got so much on his plate, he doesn’t need this too.”
Ciara frowns. “So, what’s the plan? You can’t use me as an excuse again, not when he called your fake errand for me an unnecessary risk.”
I groan, running my hands through my hair. “I know. That’s the problem. I can’t keep making up excuses.”
“Then don’t.”
I shoot her a look. “Be serious.”
“I am.”
“I can’t tell him, Ciara. This would break him.”
“And you think keeping it from him won’t?”
“No, but…” I don’t have an answer for her. “Either way, I hurt him.”
“So, you might as well just rip off the band-aid now.”
I shake my head.
She huffs. “I didn’t think it was possible to find someone as stubborn as me, but right now, I think I might have met my match. So, if you’re not going to tell him, how exactly do you plan on getting to your appointment?”
I chew on my lip as I consider my options.
Ciara’s right. I can’t use her as an excuse again, and I’ve already used Lucy when I secretly met up with Oscar.
The faintest thread of an idea clicks into place. It’s fragile, but it could be the answer I’ve been looking for.
“Is there a café near Dr. Rogers’ office?” I ask.
