Twenty-Seven
Jemma
As I walk down the long hallway, toward the Health Center on campus, I suck in a deep breath, terrified of the potential news. My body looks the same, though it somehow feels different. I haven’t had my period in about two months. I know I’m pregnant, even though I’ve never been before. Some things you just know.
But I still need to hear it from the doctor. Then, it will be real. And only then will I be able to accept that my life is about to change. That Trent’s life is going to be thrown into a tailspin, too. Every time I consider having the talk with him bile rises from my stomach, choking me.
I enter the Health Center, pleased to find the waiting room is empty.
The nurse at the front desk spins around in her chair, her face devoid of emotion. “Sign in.” She pushes a clipboard in front of me along with a pen.
I do as she asks, and then she looks at the paper for my name. She scrolls through the computer, clicks a few buttons and says, “Have a seat. The doctor will be with your shortly.”
I find a seat in the waiting room, and within minutes, a nurse, dressed in dark blue scrubs, opens the door to my right and calls out my name. The tiny hairs on my arms stand at attention, nervous energy coursing through my veins.
I force a smile, doing everything in my power to keep my shit together, as I walk alongside the nurse to the back of the clinic. She instructs me to sit on the examination table and proceeds to take my vitals without speaking a single word to me. The silence in the room is killing me.
She leaves the room, replaced by Dr. Grady, an older man with a withered face and dark hair salted by some gray.
“Morning, Jemma,” Dr. Grady says as he shuts the door behind him. I greet him in the same fashion, and then he takes a seat on the stool next to the table, flipping open the chart in his hand.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrug. “Okay, I guess. I’ve been feeling sick in the morning, and I’ve has some soreness.”
“That’s normal for the first trimester,” he says.
The air drains from my lungs. My heart pounds in my chest, my pulse racing so fast I can feel it throbbing in my neck.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, barely able to get out the words.
“Yes. I know this isn’t the news you want to hear at your age, but I’m afraid you’re right.” He pushes himself up from the stool and removes the stethoscope from around his neck. Dr. Grady checks me out, informing me that everything is normal.
“Do you know how far along I am? Does the blood work tell you that?”
He shakes his head. “You’ll need to see an OBGYN to determine how far along you are. An ultrasound is required. Unfortunately, I don’t have the equipment in this office.”
“Thank you,” I mutter. “I’ll make an appointment with my doctor.”
He closes the folder and opens the door, looking over his shoulder at me once more. “Take care of yourself, Jemma. I hope everything works out for you.”
I flash a closed mouth smile, my heart sinking to my stomach. My entire world has come undone in a matter of seconds.
How do I tell Trent?
But what if the baby isn’t his?
Could it be Tucker’s?
I had sex with both of them. They share the same DNA, making it impossible to tell them apart.
I clear the lump forming at the back of my throat, unable to move from the exam table. When I left Lancaster, I was running away from a problem, only to find another. I wasn’t ready to start a family with Corey, and now, I’m going to be a mother.
Twenty-Eight
Trent
“I’m pregnant,” Jemma says, and my heart stops, or at least it feels as though it did.
I can hear my heart beating in my ears, feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. My throat closes up, the anxiety choking me. I’m stunned, too in shock to respond. Jemma waves her hand in front of my face, but I can’t move. Can’t think. My entire body is frozen in place, yet every single part of me feels alive. Fear rocks through me in waves, followed by intense panic.
“Trent, say something,” Jemma says, now snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Are you okay? I know this is a shock. I still can’t believe it myself. But we need to talk about this.”
She sinks to the bed next to me, taking my hand in hers. Her delicate touch sets my skin on fire, leaving a brush of heat along my arm. Still, even with Jemma trying to calm me down, I can’t function.
How can she be pregnant? We always use condoms. This doesn’t make sense. Was she with someone else? Tucker. Fuck, she was with him, too. What if the baby isn’t mine? We have identical DNA.