Pulling his phone out his pocket, he sent Cyanna the final text and headed on his way to his next match.
EIGHT
Cyanna
Four days of silence. Four days of soccer matches. The last one ending the winning streak and swiping L.O. of their championship hopes. Four days of living in a penthouse that reminded her of her parents.
Cyanna laid on the examination table, her yearly checkup doubling as a check-in after the miscarriage. The doctor pushed the gloved finger inside of her and hummed.
“When did you say your last period was?” Dr. Shelby Yates asked.
“I’m like a week and a half away from my next one,” Cyanna shared, not thinking anything of the question.
“How have you been feeling?” Dr. Shelby asked.
“Fine. I spotted for a day and had a cramp, but outside of that, nothing. Why? What’s wrong?”
She removed her finger and glove, washed her hands, and sat back on the stool. “Your cervix is closed. But the only way to one hundred percent confirm that you’re pregnant is another test.”
Cyanna sat up and frowned. “I-shit.”
Dr. Shelby handed her another gown for the front of her body and a sterile cup. “It’ll take five minutes for us to find out.”
In a daze of flashbacks, Cyanna took the sterile cup and donned the gown. She shuffled down the hall, offering them a sample in the cup, and going back into the examination room to await her fate. No question that if she were pregnant again, it was Karys’. No question that it made her stomach do somersaults.
One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Four minutes. She nervously watched the clock and bounced her leg. Five minutes, six minutes and then the knock of fate. Dr. Shelby entered the room laptop in hand and turned on the ultrasound machine.
“Your test is positive. Very faint but I want to do an ultrasound to make sure everything looks on the up and up,” Dr. Shelby announced.
Cyanna didn’t offer a verbal response. She positioned herself back on the table and looked up at the ceiling while her doctor gently maneuvered the wand to find the implantation.
“There it goes. We won’t have a heartbeat for about another four to five weeks, but you are, without a doubt, pregnant.” It was confirmed. A printout in hand for her to mull over.
“Thank you,” Cyanna said quietly.
“Congratulations, Cyanna. I know you and your husband are elated,” Dr. Shelby shared.
“We’re, uh, getting divorced. This…this isn’t his baby,” she admitted lowly. She’d been seeing Dr. Shelby since she got her first period. They were familiar. That type of admittance was safe and unjudged here.
Dr. Shelby placed her hand atop Cyanna’s and offered her a warm smile. “You deserve to have your fairytale. You’ve kissed a frog, maybe you’ve found your prince.”
“Yeah, I hope,” Cyanna blew.
“Take it easy for the next couple of weeks. No rough sex, rides whatever. No stress as much as you can avoid it. Be gentle with yourself. I want to see you back in four weeks so we can hear that heartbeat, okay?”
Cyanna nodded. “Okay. See you then.”
She stuffed the printout in her purse and returned to work. Before she left, she informed human resources that Jackie had been relieved of duty and her desk needed to cleared out, and all personal effects forwarded to her address. The contracts for the block renovation were signed, and the pieces were falling into place.
It was an hour before she was interrupted again. This time it was Damari barging into her office holding the papers he’d been served upon returning to his leased house. He was greeted by a car full of his things and a sobbing Yanieca. The papers were the cherry on top.
“You’re not fucking divorcing me,” he stated, as if there was a choice to stay or go. “You’ve been a cold bitch ever since you lost the baby. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, support your wife. Be there. Comfort me.” Cyanna shrugged, refusing to get herself upset. She was guarding something precious and she wanted to keep it safe and sound. “Not out fucking my secretary.”
“Oh please, you weren’t fucking me, what was I supposed to do,” Damari argued, seeing his lifeline slip from him. He’d made partner because of her campaigning for him. He had this access in life because she’d built it. The ride was over.
“That would’ve been a valid point. And I was concerned about it when I overheard you talking to Jackie on the phone about playing the long game. The issue with that is, you’re sloppy. You’ve been fucking her since month four into this. Alienation of affection therein applied to me. Every night you left me alone. Every dollar you spent on her. Every lie you toldme. And then, the overall arch of you leaving me alone while your baby fell out of me. So please miss me with the bullshit. Sign the papers and move on. Or contest it. Make it messy so the rest of your partners can see how you treated me over the last year and a half. Doesn’t Henry, Jacob, and Nash have a clause about that? For a lawyer, you suck at reading the fine print. Sign it and get the fuck out of my face.”
