Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)

I went over the bouts of nausea and the weak and tired feeling I’d been having.

“Classes have started back up, and it’s flu season.” She sighed. “I’ll go check with Dr. Hough, but we’ll probably do a few tests to check for a variety of infections.”

I nodded as she finished typing a few things into the laptop before making her exit.

My feet dangled beneath me as I shifted around on the uncomfortable exam table. The sound of paper crinkling beneath me took care of the awkward silence as my erratic breath whooshed in and out of my lungs.

Flu. That’s not terrible. I could deal with that.

A few missed classes. Maybe a week if it’s really bad, and then everything would be back to normal.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock. The nurse reappeared with several items in her hands.

“Okay, I managed to catch Dr. Hough in between rooms. He wants me to swab your throat for the flu, and we’re also going to do a few blood tests and a urine test just to cover all our bases. We won’t get back the results from the blood tests for a few days, but everything else, we’ll have immediately.”

“Okay,” I responded.

She grabbed the giant Q-tip-looking thing and had me open wide before swabbing the very back of my throat. I tried not to gag. My eyes watered and burned, as my throat constricted involuntarily.

“Sorry. So sorry,” she apologized, her eyes filled with empathy. She swiftly pulled back and capped the test. “We’ll let that sit for about ten minutes. In the meantime,” she said, handing me a clear container, “you’ve got work to do.”

I rolled my eyes and hopped off the table, giving a slight smile. She escorted me to the restroom and told me where to put everything when I finished.

After a few minutes and several silent curses, I was done and waiting back in the exam room. I stared at the pictures on the walls, the cartoon-like sketches of hearts and valves, as my own hand reached up to feel the rhythmic beat in my chest. The buzz from the lights became almost hypnotic as I sat there, picking at the leftover nail polish I’d worn for New Year’s, a sparkly gold color I’d thought looked festive and bright. A chip fell to the floor, a stark contrast to the dull gray linoleum tile below my feet.

Hours, days even, seemed to float by as I waited. I’d been in this exam room countless times, but it had never seemed this endless. The fear I’d felt when I’d walked through those double doors of the hospital resurfaced. I had this undeniable worry that something was about to happen, something I couldn’t control.

The knock on the door caused all the breath in my lungs to falter, and I breathed in, gulping for air, as Dr. Hough entered.

“Hi, Lailah,” he greeted, holding out his arms for our usual greeting.

I returned the gesture, hugging him wordlessly, as I tried to regain my composure.

“How are you?” I asked, my voice still slightly hoarse from my startle. “Did you have a nice holiday season?”

“Oh, yes, very nice,” he answered rather quickly, taking a seat across from me. His eyes looked heavy, filled with emotions I had yet to sort out.

“You don’t have the flu,” he simply said, “but we did find something else rather interesting.”

Oh God, here it comes—I’m dying.

“You’re pregnant.”

“That’s impossible,” the words flew out of my mouth before I even had a chance to realize I’d spoken.

He leaned forward, folding his hands together, as his gaze became intense. “Well, no, actually, since you’re sexually active. Surprising maybe, but impossible? No.”

My head began shaking from side to side as I rejected his news.

“But how?” I asked.

“Well, the how I can’t really answer, which is why I’m having Irene take you over to obstetrics. They’re going to give you an exam and an ultrasound to be sure.”

“Irene?”

“My nurse,” he answered kindly.

“Right.”

I sat there in silence, looking down at my wedding ring, a ring I’d worn for barely a month.

“I’m pregnant?” I asked before adding, “Can I survive a pregnancy?”

“I guess the question is, do you want to find out?”

And there it was—my life-altering moment.





I’D BEEN IN meetings all morning, thanks to Roman.

Every free moment I had, I found myself glancing down to check my phone, but Lailah hadn’t sent me anything—not a text, email, or even a voice mail—to let me know how the doctor’s appointment had gone.

Is she still there?

Finally, I managed to step out, canceling my lunch meeting, and I left for the day. I was useless to everyone in that office like this. I couldn’t think straight, and I definitely wasn’t getting anything done.

Not knowing what had transpired with Lailah was driving me crazy.

I tried her cell again on my way down to the lobby, but she didn’t pick up.