Unexpectedly Yours Page 22

  “The sexual tension between them is off the charts,” I remark.

  “Please don’t talk about it,” he groans as he shuts off the outdoor fire pit. “Those two are an HR nightmare waiting to happen. Oil and water.”

  “And we aren’t?” I raise my eyebrows.

  “No. We’re not.” He winks at me and pulls me into a long hug before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Now let’s go to bed. I need some alone time with you, and I thought they’d never leave.” He palms my ass before dragging me off to the bedroom.

  * * *

  I wake up feeling worse than ever. My entire body aches and my head is pounding. I’m so weak, I feel like I can barely gather the strength to get out of bed. It’s time to see a doctor, and not at the Minute Clinic.

  Drew sleeps peacefully next to me as I reach for my phone and search for a clinic or urgent care that’s open on Sundays. I’m lucky enough to find one a few blocks over that opens in an hour.

  I muster up the strength to get out of bed and into some comfortable clothes. I brush my teeth and braid my hair in an attempt to look halfway presentable in public. By the time I make myself a glass of tea, it’s time to leave. I jot a quick note on a piece of paper telling Drew I’ll be back in a bit. No need to wake him or worry him, but I know he’ll be happy I’m finally going to the doctor.

  I’m the first one in the urgent care when they unlock the door at nine o’clock sharp. I sign in and take a seat to fill out the ten pages of paperwork they’ve given me. My headache makes it difficult, though, and I feel like I could vomit again at any minute.

  When the medical assistant calls me back, she takes my vitals, weighs me, and sticks me in a room while she reviews my paperwork.

  “Last period?” she asks. I intentionally left that blank on the paperwork because I can’t remember. I’ve always had irregular periods, which is why I’m on the pill. However, for the last six months, even those aren’t regulating me.

  I explain this to her, along with agreeing to follow up with my gynecologist.

  The doctor sees me right away, reviewing my paperwork, my vitals, and following up with more questions. She looks at my throat, feels the glands in my neck, looks in my eyes and ears, and does an overall general physical. She orders bloodwork, a flu and strep test, and even a urine test. She’s definitely covering all the bases and asks me to rest until the medical assistant returns.

  I’ve always considered cancelling my health insurance to give me more take home pay on my paycheck. Today, I’m thankful I didn’t do that. I can only imagine what this visit would have cost me out of pocket. If I’ve learned anything, it’s don’t take your health or good medical insurance for granted.

  After I’ve been poked, swabbed up the nose and in the back of my throat, and peed in a cup, I’m asked to wait back in the room. Drew texts me while I’m waiting, asking where I’m at, and I shoot him a quick response, telling him I’ll be home shortly. If I told him where I was, he’d surely insist on meeting me here. I don’t have the energy to argue with him right now, so I shut off my phone after responding.

  I close my eyes and lie on the exam table until I feel a gentle squeeze on my arm. Dr. Friedrich coaxes me awake and I apologize for dozing off.

  She sits down in a chair and props her laptop on her lap. “Grace.” She says my name as her eyes scan the screen. “The good news is, overall, you’re perfectly healthy. The bad news is you’re fighting a little bug amongst some other things.” She taps at the keyboard before setting the laptop on the small counter. “Your flu test was negative, as was your strep test. You weren’t displaying symptoms of strep throat, but I wanted to check to make sure. It’s that time of year where we’ve seen many cases of strep and some patients don’t display the usual symptoms.”

  I nod my head as she rattles off her findings. “However, your white blood cell count is a little low, which tells me you’re definitely fighting off an infection. Most viral infections contribute to an upset stomach, body aches, and general fatigue. Couple that with your pregnancy and I can see why you’re miserable. I recommend a minimum of three days rest, continuous fluids, and an appointment with your OB/GYN in the next couple of weeks. Congratulations.” She smiles at me and folds her hands in her lap, waiting for me to respond.

  But I can’t. I’m stunned.

  I’m…what?

  “Excuse me?” I finally say breathily.

  The look on her face tells me she sees my hesitancy. “Grace, the pregnancy is early. The urine test didn’t show the pregnancy yet, but your HCG levels are elevated in your bloodwork. You’re definitely pregnant. I’d say you’re probably five, maybe six weeks at the most.”

  I blink several times, trying to swallow this. My heart is pounding harder than my head now. “I have barely been having sex for that long,” I explain, trying to convince her, or maybe myself, that she has this all wrong. This is a huge error.

  She shakes her head and goes into the long medical explanation about how a pregnancy is determined from the time of the last menstrual cycle, not from the time of actual conception. Except, due to my irregular periods, I don’t know when my last menstrual cycle was.

  This is too much. My head begins to spin, and I feel like I might vomit right here in front of her. Drew and I have never even spoken of kids. We’ve discussed birth control and that’s it.

  My stomach continues to twist and turn, and anything else she’s saying, I don’t even hear. I simply nod my head as her lips move until she stands up and leaves the room. I do my best to use the breathing techniques I’ve learned to ward off an anxiety attack. In through the mouth, hold it, release slowly. I do this at least twenty times before the medical assistant returns with my release paperwork. I do my best to smile politely, but all I want to do is get the hell out of this clinic before I lose my shit.

  * * *

  I take a cab to Central Park, where I sit in the grass under a tree in almost in the same spot where Drew brought me on our picnic. There’s something about the crisp, fresh air, the green grass, and the turning leaves that helps me settle my mind, even temporarily.

  A million scenarios run through my head, like how I’m going to tell Drew and what his reaction might be. From good, to bad, to everything in between. I’m too numb to cry, too worried to predict, and too scared to tell him right now.

  It’s almost noon when I arrive back at the condo to Drew and Aaron standing around the kitchen island.

  “There you are!” Drew says when I enter the kitchen. I take a deep breath and do my best to plaster a smile on my face, hoping to hide my worry. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

  “Sorry,” I tell him as he pulls me into a hug. “I finally caved and went to the urgent care.” I hold up the papers I’ve been carrying around as if he was questioning my whereabouts. “Looks like it’s just a virus.”

  Aaron’s eyes grow wide. “You have a virus? Are you contagious?”

  “It’s not the plague,” I tell him sarcastically, “and I sure hope not. I’ve been at work the last week and would have exposed everyone in the office to it.”

  Thankfully, Drew doesn’t seem suspicious. He pats my shoulder. “Go get some rest. Aaron was just filling me in on his evening with Jamie.” He gives me a look that tells me it’s more than I probably ever could have imagined it’d be.

  “I don’t know that I even want to know…” I hold my hand up, stopping Drew from telling me more. “You two enjoy.”

  Drew leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

  I nod, tuck my paperwork under my arm, and disappear down the long hall to the bedroom, where I crawl into bed and cry myself to sleep. It’s the first time I’m allowing myself to really feel the impact of how quickly my life is about to change.

  Twenty-Three

  Aaron and I spend the day together, again. It’s been great reconnecting with my brother. When he unexpectedly showed up in New York, I wanted to fucking murder him, but in the
last couple of weeks, I’ve actually gotten used to his pain-in-the-ass presence. Between Gracie agreeing to live here, reconnecting with Aaron and him deciding to move here, and AM Global taking on a record number of new clients, everything in my life is falling into place. This is what dreams are made of. These are the days I cherish and I’m so thankful for it, and for the first time ever, I truly feel blessed.

  Around five o’clock, Aaron went back to his hotel for the night so that I could take care of Gracie. She’s been asleep all day and I’m beginning to get worried. I find her sound asleep in our bed, burrowed under the comforter and all curled around a pillow. She’s peaceful and beautiful, and I decide to just let her sleep. Rest is what she needs to heal.

  * * *

  My alarm goes off at five thirty in the morning. I set it early so I can get a work-out in before hitting the office. I’ve been so busy lately, I haven’t set aside my normal time to work out and I can feel it manifesting physically and mentally. I need the release and if I have to get up early to get it, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I reach over to pull Gracie to me, wanting to feel her warm skin against mine before I leave, but I find an empty bed.

  I find Gracie relaxing in the bathtub, her favorite place. “Morning,” I say, peeking my head in the bathroom.

  “Morning,” she responds, rolling her head to the side to look at me. Her long hair is all tied up on top of her head.

  “Feeling any better?”

  She nods slowly. “Yeah, a little. Hopefully, once I’m up and moving, the body aches will go away.”

  I frown, still worried about her. “Maybe you should take today off.”

  She shakes her head quickly. “No. Too much work to do—”

  I cut her off. “Gracie. All of it can wait. Plus, you have an amazing team that can pick up anything urgent.”

  Her face looks flushed and I don’t know if it’s from her not feeling well or because she’s soaking in a hot bath.

  “I’m fine. I slept really good, I just need to soak my achy muscles.” She knows I’m not buying her lies. “Really.”

  I’m not going to argue with her, because if the shoe was on the other foot, I know I’d be doing the same damn thing. “All right. I’m going to go work out. Tony will be here at seven thirty to take us to the office. Anything you need from me before I go?”

  She nods. “Will you make the bed? I’m just too tired. I’m going to soak for a bit longer in here.”

  “Sure.”

  She offers me a tight, unreassuring smile. “Have a good workout.”

  Even sick, she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. I toss on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt before I pull the plush comforter up on the bed. I grab all the decorative throw pillows and begin arranging them on top of the comforter, but I’m doing a poor job at making them look nice. I knock a stack of papers off Gracie’s nightstand, and as they fall to the floor, I realize it’s her release papers from the urgent care.

  I grab them, placing them neatly back into a pile when I see the words “pregnancy confirmation” with follow up orders to see an OB/GYN. I pick the papers back up and also see a note for pre-natal vitamins.

  My heart stops dead when I see Gracie’s name on the paperwork—Grace Morgan—next to her date of birth. The name, address, and telephone number of the urgent care is listed at the top of the paperwork, along with yesterday’s date.

  Pregnant.

  I need a second, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

  Fuck.

  Nausea, vomiting, body aches, fatigue. All symptoms of pregnancy. Why in the fuck didn’t I see this?

  She lied to me. She’s known since yesterday and said it was a virus. My hands tremble, the papers shaking wildly. This was not supposed to happen. “Fuck.” I punch at the air, sending the papers flying across the bedroom.

  “Drew?” Gracie’s voice is weak, and then I realize she’s out of the bath, standing in the bathroom doorway.

  I bury my face in my hands. I cannot bring myself to look at her. I can hear her bare feet pad across the floor, and I can feel her next to me. My entire body shakes with anger as I breathe, trying to control myself.

  I open my eyes to see Gracie wrapped in a towel, bending down to pick up the papers. She’s shaking as badly as I am when she approaches, stopping in front of me. She sets the papers on the nightstand and wraps her arms around her waist in a protective stance.

  “I was going to tell you—”

  “You fucking lied to me!” I shout at her, cutting her off. “You said you had a virus.”

  She takes two steps backwards, her entire body trembling in fear. I’ve never raised my voice to her. I’ve never had her scatter away in fear and I feel like a fucking asshole, but right now, I’m too pissed to care.

  “I didn’t lie.” Her voice is tiny, barely above a whisper. “I have a virus…and I’m also pregnant.”

  I don’t know if it’s anger or rage or hurt…but I pick the papers off the nightstand and crumble them in my hands, my hands balling into tight fists. “You told me you were on the pill.”

  Her chin quivers, but she raises it higher in an act of courage. She’s always been a stronger, better person than me. “I am…was…”

  “Then how—”

  “I don’t know!” she screams back at me before bursting into tears. “I don’t know how it happened. I missed pills, Drew. You were aware of that. You didn’t let me go home some nights. I have irregular periods…all of it. All of it happened and now I’m pregnant.” She drops to her knees and buries her hands in her face, loud sobs filling the room. Her bare shoulders shake and her arms tremble with her cries.

  “I didn’t do this on purpose,” she chokes out between gasping sobs. She sits on the floor in front of me, a crumbling mess, and as much as I want to comfort her right now, I can’t. Because I’m a selfish prick and the only person I can think of is myself.

  “I don’t want a baby,” I say. My voice is flat, devoid of emotion. “I can’t do this.”

  Something happens almost instantly, and she stills. Her sobs come to a sudden stop and her entire body becomes motionless.

  “I can’t do this,” I say again, barely above a whisper. My voice is hoarse. I wanted everything with Gracie, a house, a life, but we never discussed kids. The last thing I ever wanted was to be an absent father like my dad was, therefore, I decided years ago, kids weren’t in my future.

  She raises her head to look at me, her eyes holding mine, searching for answers, searching for support, searching for the love I promised her. Only I’m the fucking liar now. I promised to never hurt her and here I am, destroying her. My chest heaves with heavy breaths when her eyes finally fall to my clenched fists.

  Tears fall from her eyes and roll down her face. Giant, wet tears soak her cheeks. Her lips tremble and her chin quivers as the weight of my words settle in. Without a word, she simply nods at me in understanding before standing up and walking away.

  I hear the bathroom door close behind her before I hear her quiet sobs echo against the tile room, and that’s when I know I broke her. The one thing I promised I would never do I did, and my heart breaks into a million pieces. I destroyed the one thing I love the most in this world.

  * * *

  It’s been an hour since Gracie locked herself in the bathroom. I listened to her cry through the bathroom door, but not once did I try to get to her, not once did I apologize or try to be a rational human being. Not once did I call out to her, comfort her, or tell her we’d figure this out. I’m a fucking asshole. I finally left for the office, leaving her behind. I walked out on her, leaving her with the burden of this news.

  I don’t greet Sue when I arrive at the office. I simply slam my office door behind me and send her an instant message telling her to clear my calendar. There’s no way I can function or think critically today. I rub my temples, trying to push away the growing headache that seems to be worsening by the minute.

  At nine o’clock, there’s a light knock on my
door and I bark out at Sue, “Not right now.”

  Only Sue doesn’t give a shit. She opens the door and steps inside. “Mr. McPherson, I think you’re going to want this.” She hands me a piece of paper that I snatch out of her hand. With it, she hands me Gracie’s employee badge.

  “Letter of resignation” is typed in the memo line, under Gracie’s name and Red Hook address. Fury rages through me and I crumble the paper, much like I did the medical release papers this morning, and toss it in the garbage can. Sue simply glares at me, pursing her lips.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but Grace Morgan is the best thing to happen to this company—” she starts before I cut her off.

  “Not now, Sue!” I bark at her like the asshole that I am. I don’t even know who I am anymore.

  “Fix it,” she says, slamming my office door on her way out.

  Not two minutes later, my office door flies open again and Jamie comes barreling through.

  “Where’d Gracie go?” Jamie demands, furious. She cornered me once before and told me that if I ever hurt Gracie, she’d gut me, and for some reason, I actually believe she would. Grace is lucky to have a friend like Jamie.

  “Don’t know,” I snap at her.

  “What did you do to her?” She takes another step further into my office and narrows her eyes at me.

  I throw my hands in the air and growl but don’t answer her question. One, because I don’t know if I can even vocalize what I’m feeling right now, and two, it’s none of her damn business.

  I see Aaron slide into my office and stand next to Jamie before he pipes in, “Uh, everything okay?”

  I push myself up from my chair and stand with my hands planted firmly on the desk to steady me. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Aaron closes my office door, giving us privacy from all of the eyes that seem to be pacing the hall outside my office. Everyone seems to be acutely aware that shit is going down. But it’s the two pairs of eyes standing in front of me that I have to answer to. My heart beats wildly in my chest and my stomach twists in knots as I replay what I said to Gracie. I’m disgusted with myself for the way I handled the news and how I pushed her away when she needed me.