I Married a Billionaire: The Prodigal Son (Contemporary Romance) (7 page)

“I know exactly why he’s coming back,” Daniel insisted. “If it is indeed him, which - can I remind you? - we don’t even know yet. He saw that you might be pregnant, and it either spurred some ridiculous desire to try and ‘make things right’ by being a better grandfather than he was a father, or he thought it would have softened me up enough to welcome him back into my life. After everything that happened. After he’s apparently lied to me for all these years, letting me believe he was dead. He’s going to come back with too-little-too-late apologies, or some kind of ridiculous excuses, and I don’t want to hear any of them.” He stopped, his tone suddenly urgent. “You didn’t tell Lindsey, did you?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t go to her before I went to you.” I shook my head. “But Danny, honestly.”

He was shaking his head. “We shouldn’t even be talking about this, not while you’re…” he looked like he was about to say
fragile
, but backed away from it at the last possible moment.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll go to the stupid doctor.”

The thought made me grit my teeth, but he was right.

***

“Are you currently on any medication?” She glanced up at me briefly.

“No,” I said, automatically. “Well - yes, actually, but just birth control. The seasonal kind, where you only have a period every three months. It helps my premenstrual symptoms be less severe. I wrote it all down on the intake form.”

“I apologize if this is repetitive,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “There’s nothing written down here for referring physician. Are you seeing someone for regular check-ups?”

“I see my gynecologist once a year.”

She looked up at me. “How long has it been since your last checkup?”

I shrugged. “A few months, I guess. Maybe longer. Why?”

Dr. Conklin cleared her throat. “Well, when you’re on continuous birth control, it’s generally recommended that you take monthly pregnancy tests whenever you’re not scheduled to have a period. Just to be sure. Have you been doing that?”

“No, they never told me I had to.” I bit my lip, not wanting to say it, but feeling like I had to. “Is this about that article?”

“Article?” Dr. Conklin frowned. “I’m not sure what article you’re referring to, but given your situation, my first recommendation would be that you take a home pregnancy test. You’re talking about feeling fatigued and losing your appetite, and when there’s no other obvious trigger for sudden onset panic attacks, it makes me wonder about a hormonal disruption.”

“I’m not pregnant,” I insisted. “I take my pill every night when I go to bed.”

“And do you go to bed at the same time every night?”

I felt slightly irritated. “Not always, why?”

“Theoretically, hormonal birth control is still 99.9% effective if it’s taken within the same four or five-hour window of time every day. But with these continuous pills, the whole system is slightly less stable. If you don’t take it at exactly the same time every night, there’s a theoretical possibility.”

I managed to stem the rising anger - or maybe it was panic - in my chest and ask her coolly, “why didn’t they say something at the clinic?”

“I can’t possibly answer that,” said Dr. Conklin. “Maybe they did, and they simply didn’t emphasize it enough for it to stick in your mind. If you read the documentation that comes with the prescription…”

“Who actually reads those things?” I snapped. I was feeling completely frustrated and overwhelmed, and though Dr. Conklin was a little on the cool side, I knew I had no right to take it all out on her. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes for a moment, then re-opened them. The doctor was still looking at me dispassionately.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just frustrated. I had no idea about any of that.”

“Many women don’t,” she said. “That’s why I advocate patients educating themselves as much as possible.”

I tried to ignore the subtle dig. “Well, now I know. I guess I’ll go take that test.”

“If it comes back negative, please do make another appointment. I’ll be happy to explore some treatment options for your anxiety and your fatigue, once I’m sure it’s not putting a pregnancy at risk.”

“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile as I stood up and left her office.

Once the cool air outside hit my face, I took a deep breath and relaxed a little. I told myself it was highly, highly unlikely. Point-oh-one percent unlikely, to be exact. I was pretty sure that was even less likely than being struck by lightning. But still, when I went into the drugstore and bought the thing, I couldn’t stop my heart from jumping into my throat. I filled up my basket with random bags of candy, sunglasses, and nail polish, burying the test under a pile of junk, just in case. I didn’t think I could handle another pregnancy speculation article, especially now that it might be…

No, no, I couldn’t think like that yet. I didn’t know.

My stomach was fluttering the whole way home. Those few minutes, pacing the bathroom with the little stick balanced on the edge of the sink, were the longest of my life.

I’d gotten the fancy digital kind, so there would be no squinting at half-formed lines and trying to interpret them like hieroglyphs. But the little hourglass on the display screen seemed to be silently mocking me.

I forced myself to close my eyes for the last few seconds.

Looking won’t make it happen any sooner.

I waited a few extra seconds, just to be sure.

Pregnant.

***

“Home tests are usually quite accurate,” the nurse practitioner was saying. “More accurate than people think. But you did the right thing by coming in. We always confirm with a blood test to be absolutely sure.”

I nodded. There was a slight ringing in my ears. “Thank you for fitting me in at the last minute,” I heard myself say, for the fiftieth time.

The nurse smiled. “It’s no problem. We get a lot of cancellations and no-shows this time of year.”

“Well, that’s not very considerate of people,” I said, swallowing thickly.

“Hey, you know, folks are trying to get their kids off to school…they get busier than they expected, I get it,” the nurse said, reasonably. “You’re going to feel a little pinch.”

I barely noticed it.

“The results should be back in one to three days, depending on how busy the lab is. We’ll call you as soon as we know. Is it okay to leave a message with the results?”

“Yeah, sure.” I didn’t want to risk missing the call and having to wait a whole night - or, worse, a whole weekend. “Please do. I’d rather know.”

“Of course.” The nurse taped a tuft of cotton on the pinprick and patted my arm gently. “Okay, you’re all set. Just see the front desk to check out. Don’t forget to get your parking validated.”

***

I spent the rest of the day like a zombie, sitting on the sofa and staring at the TV without any sense of what I was watching. When Daniel came home, I forced a smile and went over to greet him. To this day, I still have no idea how I mustered it.

He kissed me, then pulled back in concern, no doubt seeing the tired, blank expression on my face no matter how I tried to hide it.

“Did you go to the doctor?”

I nodded. “Just waiting for some tests to come back.”

Seeming to sense that I didn’t want to go into any more details, he set down his briefcase and hung up his coat. “All right, well. I’m glad you went. I hope it wasn’t as bad as you thought it might be.”

I shrugged. “She didn’t have the greatest bedside manner, but she gave me some stuff to think about.”

“Well, good.” He smiled a smile that meant
I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m going to be encouraging anyway
. “I’m sure she’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

I could tell that he noticed the bandage on my arm. His eyes kept flicking towards it, but he wasn’t going to bring it up unless I did. I had absolutely no idea if there were any blood tests that would normally be indicated for panic attacks, but I’d never heard of such a thing. The same thoughts were probably running through his head, but he knew better than to push.

Aside from clearly being worried about me, though, I couldn’t really detect anything under the surface. If he was thinking about his father at all, he was hiding it exceedingly well. Despite what casual acquaintances might say, Daniel was simply not good at hiding his feelings. Not once you knew all his tells.

It was puzzling, for sure. I couldn’t imagine being in his situation and just being able to…push it aside, seemingly. To forget that his long-lost father was just out there somewhere, wanting to talk to him. Even if I felt vindictive towards him, even if I’d spent the last however many years of my life thinking I’d be happy to never see him again, I’d be too curious to ignore him. Why on earth would he fake his own death? Why would he hide?

For a moment, wondering about old Mr. Thorne almost made me forget that I might be…

Ugh.

The feelings of raw panic at the thought had subsided, and now I just felt…annoyed, more than anything. I had overdosed on information while John drove me home, scrolling through pages and pages of results for “false positive home pregnancy test” while he inched his way through the traffic. There wasn’t much good news to be had. False positives were rare, especially nowadays. Of course, I’d had to buy the most fancy, state-of-the-art test there was. If I’d gone for the discount rack, at least I could have told myself that there was more of a chance.

Somehow, I must have fried my brain’s worrying circuits, because the thoughts finally just stopped. There was no point in fretting about it until I knew for sure.

Then, after dinner, Daniel ruined everything.

He fixed me with a penetrating gaze - I’d been sort of avoiding direct eye contact all evening, but once I was pulled in, it was like a tractor beam. I couldn’t look away.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at the doctor’s?”

I immediately started crying.

The instant sense of shame only made it worse. He came over to me quickly, wrapping his arm around me and stroking my hair until I caught my breath and was able to answer him.

“She started asking me all these questions about my birth control…I guess…” I stopped, but found myself unable to look up at him for a reaction. “I guess I was supposed to be taking monthly pregnancy tests to make sure…because I don’t…”

“Yes?” said Daniel, when I didn’t continue, his voice remarkably calm and steady. “Because you don’t menstruate every month. That makes sense.”

I found myself letting out a strange guffaw of laughter at his vocabulary choice. “Well, I haven’t been. I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Yeah, except, I don’t.”

He seemed frozen for a moment. Then, he looked down at the bandage on my arm, and back up to my face. His eyes were like saucers.

The waterworks started again. I nodded, unable to muster any more words for the moment. “Yeah,” I managed, finally. “So I won’t know for sure until it comes back…but they say the home tests…false positives are pretty…”

He just kept staring at me. More tears gathered in my eyes, but I was able to finally hold them back a little.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know. I guess you have to take the pills at the exact same time every day, if you want to be one hundred percent sure. I haven’t been as careful as I could have been. I just didn’t realize. I thought I knew, but I didn’t.”

“Maddy,” he said, suddenly, sharply, his voice very loud. “Stop.”

I sniffled, and took a deep breath.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said, leaning down so that our faces were level. “Did you think I’d be upset?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Are you?”

“Of course not!” Despite his words, he looked slightly like a cornered animal, but I decided to take him at face value. “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

“I was surprised too,” I said. “I know we didn’t…”

“Maddy,” he said, as my eyes started to drift away from his face. “Maddy. Look at me.”

I swallowed hard, and did.

“Do you want this?” he asked, with a flicker of some emotion in his eyes that I couldn’t read.

I bit my lip. I hadn’t even allowed myself to ask that question yet, but the answer was incredibly clear to me now, for the first time.

I nodded.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Of course I do.”

Of course.

He smiled, a little hesitantly. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Why would I? You don’t even want kids.”

“Maddy. Sweetheart. This isn’t just about me right now.”

“But it’s about you a little.” I sniffled. “A lot, actually.”

He thought for a moment, in silence, before responding. “I didn’t plan for this,” he said, finally.

I gave him a
no shit
look, and he smiled.

“I didn’t plan for this,” he repeated. “And I don’t think you did either. But it can be…we can do it. I’m sure we can.”

“We can be better than your parents, or mine,” I said. “I don’t have any doubts about that.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile growing a little more genuine. “To be honest, ever since that charity dinner…the idea’s been in my head, you know, I couldn’t shake it. But I didn’t want to say anything. Because I knew it was something you…and, I mean, at any rate, you’re the one who has to become a human incubator for nine months.” He paused, seeing the look of chagrin on my face. “Sorry. Not the best time to bring that up.”

“Your terminology could use a little work,” I replied, smiling and wiping my eyes. “But I’ll give you some credit for not referring to it as a ‘parasite.’”

“Thank God, that was my second choice.” He hesitated for a moment, then straightened up and pulled me against him, tightly. “I love you, Madeline.”

“I love you too,” I said, muffled against him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

“For the love of God. Stop apologizing.” He laughed, pulling away. “Do you want to tell anyone?”

I shook my head. “Not right away. You’re supposed to wait. Right?”

“I suppose so,” he said, laughing a little. “I have no idea.”

Neither one of us knew what on earth we were doing. For some reason, that thought didn’t scare me as much as it ought to have.