My stomach tightens as I’m certain I know what she’s about to say. “What’s that?” I ask stupidly.
“Pregnancy.”
The word lands like a bowling ball tossed onto the floor in front of me. I don’t know what to say or do with it.
“I’d like you to take a test,” she continues. “It’s routine. But given the timing you’ve described, it’s important we know for certain before we assume anything else.”
I nod, trying to play it cool despite the fact that I feel like I’m going to faint. I go into the bathroom, do my business, and give the cup to the nurse.
“It’ll be just a few minutes for the results,” she says. “Go ahead and take a seat.”
Dr. Kovacs returns. “Well, that confirms my suspicion,” she says with a small smile.
My heart drops into my stomach.
No way.
The room spins. I grab onto the table as if it’s going to launch me into the air.
Pregnant.
Holy shit.
I think of Roman. I think of Sasha. I think of the panic room. I think of the lawyers. I think of what he told me during that game of truth or dare.
Suddenly, I’m fiercely afraid.
“I need you to keep this between us,” I tell her.
She frowns. “Amalie?—”
“Please. I just need time.”
She removes her glasses, folding them carefully. “I am bound by law despite my relationship to Roman, so if you want me to keep it between us, it stays between us.”
“Thank you. There’s just so much happening right now, and I don’t want to add to that until I know how to tell him.”
“You care for him deeply,” she says.
“Yes,” I admit. No point in denying it. “And Sasha.”
She smiles. “This is a complicated situation with a complicated man.”
I snort. “That’s putting it mildly.”
She hands me a small packet containing information, vitamins, and a list of do’s and don’ts. I slide off the table, my legs feeling a little shaky.
“You have my number in case you need anything,” she says, preparing to leave. She stops and turns at the door. “You’ll be alright.”
I nod, not knowing what to say.
Andrei stands when I enter the waiting room.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Everything’s fine.”
“Good.” He doesn’t pry.
