Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

“So, are you experiencing any nausea, headache?”

“Just a headache, but I already took two Advil and they seem to be slowly doing their job.”

I’m still not sure why someone would need to see a doctor for a hangover. It’s not medical but a behavioral situation, isn’t it?

“Since I’m here, what do you say we run some blood work and check your vitamin and iron levels?” The doctor opens his bag and begins preparing a syringe. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

“No! I’m not pregnant.” The words spill out of my mouth.

A few years back, I always thought whenever a doctor would ask me this, I’d be ecstatic and maybe a little nervous, but never this terrified.

But if Charles’ last reaction has confirmed anything, it’s that this question is his worst nightmare.

“I can’t be.”

The doctor coughs lightly, and Mrs. Kowalski’s brow furrows. They both continue to stare at me in confusion.

Of course they’re confused.

We pose as the happiest and most in-love couple in public, and here I am, freaking out at the prospect of a baby like someone just handed me a manual to a crashing aircraft in a language I can’t read. Panic level: the highest.

“I mean, Charles and I want to have a few more years to ourselves before we start a family. I’m very, very careful and always take my pill on time.”

The doc and Mrs. K exchange a look as something unspoken passes between them.

“What is it?” I ask, dread slowly knocking at the door.

“Do you use any other form of contraception, Mrs. Hawthorne?” the doctor asks carefully.

My mind immediately goes to the sunroom. That was the one and only time we did it without a condom.

But you know one time is all it takes, Daisy.

“Not always,” I reply slowly. “But isn’t the pill one of the most effective ways?”

“It normally is. But you were on antibiotics for a long time because of the flu, and those medicines are known to reduce the effectiveness of hormonal contraceptives.”

“Wh-what? How…how did I not know this?” My hands instinctively curl around my stomach before I look down.

I know it’s silly and stupid, but I swear I feel like my belly has grown a little, and there’s a warm sensation inside me.

Yeah, that’s the booze from last night, Ms. Daisy Hazy.

“I’d recommend that we run a test, Mrs. Hawthorne.” The good, patient doctor gets up.

“Can you—I mean, can we not tell Charles anything right now? I—I don’t want his hopes to be up for nothing. And if it does happen”—the shiver that courses through me is equal parts worry and hope—“I’d like to tell him myself.”

“Of course. That’s totally understandable.” The doctor places a tight band around my arm as I sit there feeling confused.

It feels like an important moment, like I should wish for something, but what? A positive or a negative?

I’m still holding the cotton ball on my arm when the doc finishes packing his bag. He’s about to leave when he turns to me. “I see this is probably coming as a shock, but if you want a faster result, you can always take a pregnancy test, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

My heart leaps out of my chest. Suddenly, peeing sounds like the most dangerous activity.

The doctor leaves while I’m stuck in place. My friends were right the other day. My dream has always been to start my own big family. I’d imagined the moment I’d miss a period and would take a pregnancy test. It was supposed to be magical.

My husband, who never had a face in those fantasies, would hold me in his arms. We would count each other’s heartbeats while the clock hands moved too slowly. And finally, I’d ask him to check because I would be too freaking scared. He’d turn to me with a huge smile and show me the stick with a pink line, which would just be the starting line of our happiness.