Dr. Anderson enters the room a few minutes later. “I called her,” I tell Harper, noticing her surprise.
Dr. Anderson performs an exam as she asks Harper questions. A few moments later, she sits on a stool by Harper’s bed. “Your cervix is still closed, so that’s a good sign. I want to get an ultrasound. The technician will bring in a portable machine as soon as he’s free.”
“He had better be free quickly,” I say, with a hint of steel.
The stool squeaks when the doctor stands up. “I’ll see what I can do to hurry the process, Mr. Satyros.”
When she leaves the room, Harper manages a feeble smile. “You’re shameless, trying to intimidate them into preferential treatment.” I manage a little smile back.
“What good is it to be a captain of industry if I cannot use my position for a few favors?”
She starts to laugh, but a sob emerges instead. I rush to her, lying beside her on the narrow bed and taking her into my arms. “I’m so scared, Jayson.”
“As am I, agape mou.” I squeeze her gently before saying, “I am a selfish bastard.”
Harper turns her head to look at me. “What?”
“Our child is in danger, and all I can think of is that you’ll leave me if you lose the baby.” I study her intently. “Promise me you won’t leave, even if the baby is… gone.”
Harper sighs. “I can’t do this right now, Jayson. I can’t promise anything. I can’t even think clearly. I just need to know he’s okay.”
After a second, I nod, drawing her close again. “Of course. I told you I am a selfish bastard.”
She shakes her head against my shoulder. “No. You have done some things that might be wrong, but I don’t doubt you did them for reasons you believed justified the end results. You had to protect Sophie and the company. It’s her inheritance.”
“Harper—”
The arrival of an ultrasound technician interrupts anything I might say. He gives a frown of disapproval at seeing me in the bed with Harper, but at least he has the good sense not to say anything.
The cold gel makes her wince when he squirts it on her stomach a couple of minutes later, and I want to yell at him. “I hope we can get this abdominally,” comments the technician. “The other way isn’t pleasant.” Harper winces again.
Fortunately, the man gets a clear picture and spends a few minutes looking at the screen, not uttering a word. I can’t even discern where the baby is, so I know nothing more when the man leaves to get the obstetrician.
The wait is interminable, though Dr. Anderson can’t have taken more than five minutes to arrive. Without speaking, she also performs an ultrasound. Harper studies the doctor’s face, but her expression is impassive.
Finally, Dr. Anderson puts away the probe and scoots the stool closer. “I’m sorry, Harper, but the baby stopped growing a couple of weeks ago.”
She shakes her head. “No. I still feel pregnant. I’ve had morning sickness, afternoon sickness, and fatigue.”
Dr. Anderson seems genuinely sad. “The baby is gone. Your body just doesn’t know it yet.”
I take her hand when the doctor finishes speaking. “What happens now?” I ask.
“I can admit you to the hospital overnight for a D and C in the morning, or you can take medication at home to induce the miscarriage.”
“No. I couldn’t bear the thought of that. I don’t want to have to know, have to feel it.” I understand.
“Okay.” Dr. Anderson makes a notation on the computer before turning to me. “We’ll do the procedure around nine in the morning, and you should be able to pick her up by two.”
My mouth tenses. “I’m not leaving her.”
She doesn’t try to argue with me. “I’ll get you two into a room as quickly as possible.”
Late the next afternoon, Harper clings to my arm as I lead her into the apartment building from the parking garage. The anesthetic has left her woozy, but it hasn’t dulled the emotional pain. Tears are intermittently streaming down her face. The elevator ferries us to our floor, and I open the door with my key rather than waiting for a maid to open it.
As she crosses the threshold, tears slip from her eyes. “It’s unbelievable that I was pregnant the last time I stood here.” The tears intensify.
I don’t try to get her to stop crying—I merely lift her, carrying her to our room. Putting her down briefly, I open the door before taking her to my bed. Harper curls into a ball of misery, curving into me when I lie beside her, holding her as she weeps.