It took me at least five minutes to convince her to let me come inside with her to the doctor. And another thirty to get her there, out of the car and into the waiting room. Friends do things like this, or at least that was my argument. I get it, she’s got this aversion to commitment, and she’s ready to dart at the first sign of feelings, but I’m not leaving her alone when she’s this sick. She can think what she wants, but I’m a good guy, and I wasn’t about to be an asshole and leave her by herself.
Fun fact. I hate going to the doctor alone. A grown ass man who is terrified of doctors, and even more afraid of needles. Not that I was going to let Emery know that. Matter of fact, she forbid me from even talking when the doctor entered the room, so I’m a church mouse as I watch the nurse takes her vitals, and asks her a series of questions.
“After I swab you for the flu, and for mono, I’m going to bring back a cup for you to do a pregnancy test and then the doctor will be in to see you, Emery,” a short, busty redheaded nurse says kindly, before pulling out a long as fuck Q-tip and promptly shoving it up Emery’s nose all the way to her goddamn brain, then says a quick goodbye and exits the room.
“Jesus, that was an actual torture device. A pregnancy test?” I say, eyebrows raised.
She nods, sniffling. “Some medications can’t be given to pregnant women, so they do a test each time before prescribing them.”
“Hm.”
A minute later, the nurse returns with a clear plastic cup; Emery follows her out of the door then returns soon after empty-handed.
“It hurts to even walk to the bathroom.” She moans, hoisting herself back up on the table and lying back against the white tissue paper covering the table.
“They’ll get you some medicine, and then when we get home, I’ll heat the soup up for you again.”
Sitting up on her elbows, she looks at me, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Why are you being so… sweet?”
“As opposed to being an asshole?” I shrug. “Not who I am. You said you’re done with whatever we had going on, okay. I respect you and your decisions. You think I’d be a piece of shit to you because you decided to stop sleeping with me?”
She shakes her head then pulls her lip between her teeth before she answers, “I just... I don’t know, most guys just don’t take things like that well.”
Before I can answer, the door opens and an older man, with black hair that’s peppered with gray, walks into the room, wearing a long white lab coat. The name tag on his coat says, “Dr. Montgomery.”
“Hi Emery.” He smiles, and then nods at me and extends his hand. “Hi, I’m Dr. Montgomery.”
Sitting down on the round rolling stool across from Em, he looks at his clipboard and flips a few pages before glancing up through his glasses.
“Alright Emery, it looks like your flu test did come back as positive for influenza type A as well as strep throat, so that’s probably what has you feeling so crummy. I’m going to take a quick look at your ears and throat, and have you breathe for me, so I can check your lungs.
“Thank you so much.”
He checks her over fully then takes a seat back on the stool. “Yeah, your throat’s pretty red, so we need to get you on some antibiotics. Although the antibiotics won’t help the flu, since it’s viral, it will clear up the strep throat. I’m going to prescribe a pretty mild antibiotic, so it doesn’t hurt the baby.” He smiles.
I would’ve sworn he just said baby, but I know I heard wrong.
“Baby?” Emery looks completely confused; her brow furrowed. “I think you have the wrong chart. No baby here.” Laughing, she looks at me then back at him.
Dr. Montgomery lifts a paper on his clipboard and scans the sheet then shakes his head. “No, right here it shows that the administered pregnancy test came back positive. You’re pregnant, Emery.”
Pretty sure the floor just opened up and swallowed me fucking whole.
Pregnant?
My gaze darts to Emery, who looks as pale as the sheet she’s sitting on. What the hell is happening right now?
“That’s im- impossible.” She stutters over her words, obviously upset. “I’m on birth control, I don’t- what?”
The Dr. Montgomery reaches out for her hand. “I didn’t realize you were unaware, Emery. I’m sorry. This is your first pregnancy, so I know it can be scary and overwhelming. There is support for both you and your husband.”
“He’s not my husband! We just… we were hooking up.” She screeches, yanking her hand free and covering her face. I hear a sniffle and realize she’s fucking crying.
Fuck, this is the last thing I ever expected to find out when bringing her to the doctor for the flu. I mean… we were reckless. So caught up in the moment, but fuck, I thought she was on birth control? I thought we were okay. That’s why we haven’t used a condom, because I thought she was covered.
“Birth control isn’t one hundred percent foolproof. There is always room for it to fail. It’s nothing that you’ve done wrong or incorrectly. There’s a failure rate for all medication,” he says.
Emery shakes her head. “No. This can’t be happening. I have the flu. I came here to get antibiotics… not be pregnant. I don’t want- I didn’t plan on ever having children.”