“I’m not trying to control you,” he said finally, his voice softer now. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“By spying on me?”
“By knowing when you’re in danger.”
“And Kaisen?” I turned to face him. “Is he a danger?”
Amai’s eyes darkened. “Yes.”
“He could be the father of my child.”
“Maybe.”
The word hung between us like a blade.
Amai got out of the car and opened my door. He extended his hand to help me, but I didn’t take it. Amai just walked off without addressing it.
I followed, my legs unsteady as we walked toward the entrance.
The clinic was exactly as I remembered it—sterile, cold, filled with the faint smell of antiseptic and the hum of fluorescent lights.
The receptionist looked up as we entered, and her smile faltered when she saw Amai.
“Mr. Landry,” she said, her voice tight. “Dr. Beaumont is expecting you.”
“Good.”
We were led down a hallway to an exam room, and I climbed onto the table, the paper crinkling beneath me.
Dr. Beaumont entered a moment later, and I watched her face drop when she saw Amai standing in the corner, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“Mr. Landry,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Ms. Renois. How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” I said. “Nauseous. The usual.”
Dr. Beaumont nodded, but her hands were shaking as she pulled on her gloves.
She was terrified.
And that terrified me.
“I want to talk about DNA testing,” I said, my voice firm.
Dr. Beaumont’s eyes darted to Amai, then back to me. “Of course. We can arrange for amniocentesis, but there are risks?—”
“I don’t care about the risks. I need to know whose baby I’m carrying, thanks to your ass.”
“We can also wait until after birth for a non-invasive test?—”
“I’m not waiting.”
Dr. Beaumont swallowed hard. “Understood. Let me just do the ultrasound first, and then we can discuss the options.”
She moved the machine into position, and I lay back, lifting my dress to expose my stomach.
The gel was cold against my skin.
Dr. Beaumont pressed the wand against my abdomen, and the screen flickered to life.