Page 279 of Ricardo

His jaw clenches. “You feel sick?”

“I'm fine.”

“Dizzy?”

“No.”

“Afraid?”

I look down the hall toward the wing where Dante is recovering.

“Yes.”

His hand presses once, firm and warm. “So am I.”

That should frighten me more than it does. Ricardo admitting fear should make everything feel more terrifying. But oddly enough, it makes me feel better. Like I'm not the only one.

One of the nurses from last night meets us near a side corridor. Her name is Amber, I think. Or Amy. I cannot remember, and I am too tired to care at the moment.

“Mr. Conti,” she says, then looks at me. “Miss O’Brien.”

Ricardo’s voice is low. “Is everything arranged?”

“Yes. Dr. Mehta is available now. She’ll see you privately.”

My stomach turns.

Ricardo feels me tense.

He bends his head closer to mine. “You do not have to do this alone.”

“I know.”

“Would you prefer Victoria?”

For a second, I do.

Then I look at him.

“No. You.”

His expression changes, and the anger that has been in his eyes since last night softens.

“Then me.”

The exam room is small and quiet. A paper-covered table sits against one wall, but I stay in the chair beside Ricardo because I am not here for a full appointment. Not yet. I am here because a plastic test on his bathroom counter changed my life, and now I just need to confirm it.

Dr. Mehta is kind yet direct. She asks when my last period was. I give the best answer I can. She asks about nausea, dizziness, pain, bleeding. Ricardo goes utterly still beside me at the last word.

“No,” I say quickly. “No bleeding.”

His hand closes around mine.

They take blood. They take urine. They tell us the urine test will be quick, the bloodwork a little longer but more accurate. I nod through all of it, feeling strangely detached from my own body until Ricardo lifts my hand and presses his mouth to my knuckles.

A few minutes later, Dr. Mehta comes back in.

She closes the door behind her.