The Professional Lover II (18+) | [Complete]

31 : Baring It

A/N: You all know Maggie keeps the baby. Please keep your judgment and political opinions on Twitter and not in the comments of my story. Thx.

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Cheshire stands next to me as I lie half-naked on the exam table. The nurse rolls the condom thingy onto the penis-shaped wand and Cheshire offers me her hand. She's being nice because she knows I'm scared, but she must hate my fucking guts right now. We were right at the beginning of something good, and now her almost-girlfriend is knocked up. That is some next-level bullshit right there.

"You might feel a bit of discomfort," the nurse says, and then pushes the penis-wand into me.

I wait anxiously. For what, I don't know. There is nothing but silence at first, but when the whirring sound of a heartbeat starts, I start freaking the absolute fuck out.

"And there is your little pea!" she says with glee. 

My eyes fix onto the little spot on the screen, my heart starts beating rapidly as if trying to match the sound.

"I'm sorry," Cheshire says. She lets go of my hand and leaves the room. I honestly don't blame her.

"Was that your girlfriend?" the nurse asks.

"'Was' is probably correct."

She looks at me with a small frown but turns back to the screen without a word. I appreciate the lack of judgment. It's the last thing I need right now. "Well, everything looks viable. This could be a very healthy baby."

A baby. I have no idea what to think about that. "Can you tell me how far along I am?"

"Let's see." She takes measurements, moves to different angles, all the while my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. "Baby looks to be a good size, but still a little pea. With a heartbeat, that would put you between six and seven weeks."

The room starts to feel smaller as I do the math. It can't be Daniel's if it is much more than six, same with Deven. Remy is right at seven. My chest starts to ache. "Can you tell me which one it's closer to?"

"Between six and seven?" she asks. I nod. "If I had to guess ..." she looks between the measurements. "At about four millimeters, that would put you right at six weeks."

Dammit.

The pain in my chest grows stronger, and as I deny the reason why it only worsens. Not that I want to be pregnant by any of them, but Daniel is a fucking sociopath. Deven wouldn't be the worst, but he's halfway around the world right now and is supposed to marry a nice Indian girl. I don't know what to do about any of this, I just know the only person who could calm me down right now is the same person I insisted on pushing out of my life.

Remy ... No matter how much it hurts to think about him, this would be so much less frightening if it were his.

"Sweetheart," the nurse starts to say in a soft voice. I snap out of my thoughts and look at her. "You still have options if you want to discuss those. Is that why you are so upset?"