“Good,” Kent snaps, “yes, order the overnight. Faster, if you can, I’ll pay whatever they want. I’ll be staying here,” Kent adds, glaring at the doctor, “until I get the results. If that’s any incentive to move faster.”
Then Kent looks at the door to the right which he knows is a private space. Knows it intimately. After all, he’s been here before.
“You know the drill, Mr. Lippert,” the doctor says, leaning back against his desk. “I hope that you get…whatever result it is you’re looking for.”
Kent nods quickly. “Me too,” he murmurs in reply. Then he heads into the little room.
________________________
Daniel wipes the blood from Jerome’s face and says something faint to Jerome about ice. He glances at me as he heads out the door, hurrying down the stairs. But I don’t stop him or try to say anything. What is there to say? Instead, I look over at Jerome, my eyes sorry. I can tell that he’s in a lot of pain.
Seeing the sympathy in my expression, Jerome just shrugs, letting me know it’s not my fault. “I’ve been punched before,” he murmurs, pressing a hand to his sore jaw. “I’ll get punched again. Don’t worry about it.”
But I sigh, watching the bruise bloom purple across his jaw and under his eye. “This is a bad one though, Jerome.”
“You’ve got it worse, Fay,” he mumbles in response, looking down at the floor. And I look down at myself, placing my hands on either side of my stomach, finally really realizing that…
…that I’m fucking pregnant.
Shit.
Shit.
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