He sounded a little sick as he said, “I’ll tell you later.”
I swallowed hard. Maybe I didn’t want to know.
I didn’t feel much of anything as the doctor cleaned the wound. A cold liquid on my skin, like she was rinsing it, and then more tugging. Griffen kept his eyes on me, holding my hand and stroking my hair back from my forehead. I tried to breathe, to relax, to think about anything except for the hole in my arm. And that I’d told Griffen I might be pregnant and he hadn’t said anything.
A nurse came into the room just as the doctor was lifting her head to place tools in a tray beside her. Ignoring me, the actual patient, the nurse passed the doctor a sheet of paper and took over with the instruments.
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer, congratulations. That was a good guess. You’re pregnant.”
“Is the baby okay? How would we know? Can you do an exam or an ultrasound or something?” My heart raced. It was one thing when the baby was theoretical. I’d been able to separate the possibility of a baby from the accident and all that blood. The piece of tree in my arm.
But now, knowing our barely-there baby had been through that car accident with us, tossed around as I bled so much— “How do we know if he’s okay?”
“It could be a she,” the doctor said in a gentle tease. “I’m going to help you slide to the end of the bed and I’ll give you an exam. That’s the best I can do at this point. It’s a little early to see anything on an ultrasound. You need to make an appointment with your OB/GYN, and in a few weeks you can go and get your first baby pictures.”
With her and Griffen to help, I scooched to the end of the bed where the doctor unfolded cleverly-hidden stirrups. “I don’t care if it’s a girl or a boy as long as the baby’s okay,” I said. Griffen silently squeezed my hand in what I hoped was agreement.
The doctor flicked her gaze up to him. “Are you comfortable having this exam with your husband present?”
“If he wants to stay,” I said, my cheeks burning at the idea of Griffen watching me get a pelvic exam. Never mind that if I really was pregnant that was probably the least of what he’d see. Still, I wasn’t there yet.
“I’m staying,” Griffen said, his voice low.
I tried to pretend I didn’t have my knees hiked to my chin with the doctor leaning between them. She put on a fresh pair of gloves, took the equipment the nurse handed her, and said, “You’ll feel a touch now and some pressure.” That was an understatement. I never really thought about how big a speculum was but… ouch.
“Try to relax,” she murmured, shoving the speculum in deeper. I don’t remember a pelvic ever hurting before.
Griffen squeezed my hand again, drawing my attention. He stroked his fingers down my cheek, rubbing gently. “Relax, Hope. Every muscle in your body is locked tight. Take a deep breath and relax.”
He was right. I was holding my breath, utterly terrified, tensed against the bad news I was afraid was coming. I let out the breath I’d been holding and drew in another, this one long and slow. Gradually, breath by breath, I relaxed my body, the exercise mostly taking my mind off the doctor poking at my cervix.
Okay, not mostly. It took my attention a tiny bit off the doctor. I was still more terrified than relaxed.
Finally, she straightened. “Everything looks good. I don’t see any signs of bleeding, and your cervix looks great. I can’t make any promises, considering you just came through a car accident, but I don’t see any cause for concern. I’d call your OB tomorrow and have them schedule you for your first appointment in the next few weeks. We’ll get your discharge papers together and then you can head home.”
I said a weak thank you and slid into cruise control as we waited to go over discharge instructions and final paperwork. Griffen held my hand through it all, but he said almost nothing.
Was he angry? He must be. He’d said he didn’t want to have a baby with me.
Now he was stuck.
Forever.
With me, the wife he hadn’t wanted.
Chapter Forty-Two
Griffen
I called Royal while Hope was working on her discharge paperwork. “I need a favor,” I said, trying to focus on our immediate needs. My head was too crowded by the sight of Hope covered in blood, her scared eyes.
She was pregnant. I couldn’t begin to get my head around that.
When I found whoever had pulled that trigger, I was going to kill him.
“Sure,” Royal said easily, “What’s up?”
“Hope and I are at the hospital. Someone shot out our tire and my car flipped. We’re okay, but we need a ride home.”