His Girl

Chapter Twenty-Four

"No, no, no. You must be wrong! The test must have been mixed up!"

"The test is positive. And I am certain that the test is yours."

"But-but I haven't had any morning sickness! People normally have them, right? If they're pregnant."

"Not all the time," he says. I put my hand to my head. But how did it even survive!

"Please tell me this is a prank, or something!" I nervously laugh. But the doctor stays the same expression.

"No. I'm sorry."

"H-how long have I been...pregnant?" I stutter.

He looks at a paper on the table next to him, and looks back at me. "About two weeks. But we need to book you an ultrasound scan to see exactly how many weeks you are in, because we aren't certain. See, you will be able to have an abortion."

That's my only option, to have an abortion. Yes, it might be cruel, but I never wanted to have a child in my life. And I'm still planning to have none.

"Would I be able to have an ultrasound right now? Please," I beg him. I need to see for myself.

"Well, I have to refer you to the birth clinic," the doctors says. He starts to type on his computer besides him. I grab my stomach and squeeze it gently. My only thought was to get this embryo – or foetus out!

The doctor turns his full attention on me again. "Okay, I have been able to book you an appointment. You will have it tomorrow. Is that alright?" I nod yes. I get up from my seat, thank him, and walk out.

Pregnant?

I walk back into the waiting room. Justin was sitting down where we previously was. I walk over to him.

"Hey," I say nervously.

"All good?" Justin asks me. He looks up from his phone, putting it away.

"Yeah," I lie. It's beyond far from good at this moment.

Justin picks up my bag and coat from the seat and stands up. He passes me the bag, but holds onto my coat. He grabs my hand, holding it and intertwining mine and his fingers. We walk out of the waiting room.

"Miss. Gomez!" Someone calls out. I turn around, it was the doctor. I let go off Justin's hands and walk over to him. "I forgot to give you this leaflet," he says, passing me a leaflet about pregnancy and abortions.

"Thanks," I say to him. I fold it up until it was a little cube and stuff it into my front pocket of my bag.

"I may be wrong of have many weeks it is so it's important that you go to that ultrasound," he tells me, lowering his voice.

"I was planning on it," I say to him. I walk away and walk to back Justin, who was patiently waiting. I intertwine mine and Justin hands, like before, and we continue to walk.

"What did he want?" Justin asks me.

"He's my doctor. He was just telling me that I have another appointment tomorrow."

"Another one?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to come this time. It'll be a little longer," I say to him.

"What's it for? I thought you only get once a week appointments?"

"Just to do another blood test. The last one got messed up."

I wish.

. . .

The day flew by, and now it's the day to get the ultrasound. Hopefully, it was just a huge mistake. I arrive at the hospital. "Hi. I'm Selena Gomez. I have an ultrasound," I tell the middle-aged male behind the desk.