Page 106 of Rival Hearts

“Are you sexually active?”

I pursed my lips together and nodded.

“Then you could be pregnant, Charlotte. But that’s easy to find out.” He opened a drawer and took out a pregnancy test. “Why don’t we have a look?”

He handed me the test and pointed to the bathroom adjacent to his office.

“When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

I took the test from him and swallowed hard. Alex and I had used protection every time. Every time except that night at the lighthouse. Could it be that I’d gotten pregnant? It hadn’t been very long ago—it wouldn’t show yet. And it had just been one time.

But… it only took once, didn’t it?

I followed the instructions on the packet and took the test the way it was supposed to be taken before I put it down on the basin and closed the toilet lid. I sat on the toilet and stared at the test until the allotted time was over.

When I looked at the test, it had a plus sign on it.

Pregnant.

No.

I took the test out to Doctor Norton, my eyes stinging.

“This is a false test, right?”

Doctor Norton studied it before he looked up at me.

“They’re not usually wrong, Charlotte. A false negative, maybe, but a false positive isn’t likely.”

I shook my head. “I can’t be pregnant.” Tears sprung to my eyes, and I whispered again, “I can’t be pregnant.”

Doctor Norton looked sympathetic.

“Here. I think you should go see Doctor Amelia Rowe. Her offices are in the same building, just on the other side. Reception will point you in the right direction. You can tell her I sent you, and she’ll help you with the rest.”

I nodded and took the card he handed me.

“It’s going to be okay, Charlotte.”

I wasn’t so sure he was right about that.

How could it be okay? I couldn’t have a baby.

I couldn’t haveAlex Blackwood’sbaby.

By some miracle—or some twist of fate—Doctor Rowe was available, too. Did no one have patients they saw all the time? I usually had to wait so long for a booking, but as if the world wanted me to know that things were falling apart right away.

Doctor Rowe looked to be in her thirties with a bright smile and bottle-blonde hair that hung over her shoulders.

“What can I help you with?” she asked.

I wanted to tell her what had happened, but I burst into tears.

“Oh, honey. It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“I’m pregnant,” I sobbed.

She let me cry it out before she started asking me questions. My morning sickness symptoms—because that was what it was. The date of my last period, which she helped me figure out by backtracking on my social calendar.