Page 115 of Stand Your Ground

I nodded, trying to mirror her smile, though mine felt as stiff as the gown I wore.

Doctor Stroud seemed to clock that, her smile softening. “I know these appointments can be a little nerve-wracking, but you’re doing the right thing coming in.”

“Thanks,” I said, my voice scratchy from sitting with my thoughts too long.

She pulled up the stool and sat across from me, scanning my chart. “So, before we get into next steps, I do need to ask a few routine questions — just to have the full picture. These might be a bit repetitive from the nurse who took your vitals, but I just like to double-check things myself.”

Her smile was so comforting, and yet I still felt my stomach somersault the way it had all appointment. “Okay.”

“Are you sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“One partner? Multiple?”

“One,” I answered quickly, then cleared my throat. “Just one.”

“Any contraception being used?”

“I’m on birth control, but otherwise, no.”

Doctor Stroud nodded, jotting a note, then glanced back at me. “And how long have you two been together?”

My cheeks heated. “It’s… new,” I admitted.

“Alright.” She smiled, reassuring, and set her pen down. “So, typically, we’d start with a baseline scan of your ovaries, hormone testing, and a discussion about your timeline. We’d also talk about retrieval cycles and what medications you’d need to begin in order to stimulate production.”

Relief fluttered through me that we were moving forward. “Okay. So… we can do that today?”

“Well,” she said gently, still smiling, “usually, yes. But in this case… we can’t.”

My brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Doctor Stroud’s eyes softened as she folded her hands. “Because… you’re pregnant, Livia.”

I blinked.

The words detonated inside me, ricocheting off every corner of my chest. I was sure I’d misheard them. I was sure there was no way in hell that could be—

But even as I thought to dismiss it, the reality crashed in. I’d been so busy, so stressed with work and my sister’s wedding that I knew I’d been a little inconsistent in taking my birth control. But a few hours couldn’t make that big of a difference, could it?

Or was there a time I’d skipped a day and didn’t realize?

For a long moment, I could only blink repeatedly as my thoughts raced to catch up, my mouth opening and closing like a fish pulled from water. Then, instinctively, my hand flittered to my stomach.

“I’m—” I choked on the word, a laugh bubbling up as my eyes filled. “I’m pregnant?”

Doctor Stroud nodded, calm and certain, her smile still as lovely as ever.

A sob-laugh broke free from my chest as I slapped a hand over my mouth. My shoulders shook, tears spilling while joy surged through me so fast it felt like sunlight cracking through every seam. I couldn’t stop laughing, couldn’t stop crying, my palm pressing harder into the flat of my belly as if I’d feel something there already.

But then the joy tangled with something darker, confusion and horror rushing in just as quickly. My smile trembled.

Carter.

If I was pregnant, the baby wasundoubtedlyhis.

“I… I don’t understand,” I sputtered, shaking my head. “I’m on birth control. We weren’t… I wasn’t tracking my cycle or anything like that. We weren’t trying.”