Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)

The number runs through my head because it seems like just yesterday I was peeing on pregnancy tests.

My OB goes on to explain that the baby is growing; although I’m not showing yet. The morning sickness should kick in, but I actually feel better than I did last month. I suppose that’s because I’m settling in and coming to terms with everything. She assures me not to worry, that all women are different, and unless I get extreme cramping or bleeding, that “normal” is relative.

“We can do a transvaginal ultrasound if you’d like?”

“Is that um…internal?”

“Yes, the fetus is still too small to be seen on an external ultrasound, so we’d insert a wand vaginally—”

“Oh, ya know? I think I’m good.”

It was only weeks ago that my pregnancy finally sunk in. Knowing there’s a life growing inside me is one thing. Clifford’s rejection of that life is another. Seeing the baby with my own eyes, well… I don’t think I’m ready to handle that. At least, not on my own.

“And the father?” Maybe it’s the big “S” I marked on my marital status, or my lack of engagement ring, but she peers up at me with sympathy in her eyes.

“He’s, um, he’s not in the picture anymore.”

I thought with the way Clifford blew me off that day at his front door that he’d never want to speak to me again. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only is he still speaking to me, or rather at me, what he says when he does forces me to run off campus in tears.

His precious Xbox must no longer hold his interest, and messing with me has quickly become his most exciting game to play. It hasn’t been so bad that I can’t handle it. And no way am I going to ask for help on this one. Besides, nothing he can say will make me hurt any more than I already do.

Dr. Schwartz closes the folder and nods. “What we’ll do today is take some blood to determine your blood type, Rh factor, and antibody screening. You said your last alcoholic beverage was six weeks ago?”

“Yes, before I realized I was pregnant, and only a beer. Probably not even a full one. Is that bad?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s common for women to engage in social drinking before they realize they’re pregnant. Smoking?”

“No, although the baby’s father, he um…” I lick my lips and struggle to get the words out. I don’t want this doctor to judge me, and what I have to say sounds horrible. “I think he used drugs. Bad ones.”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “Okay, but you have no contact with him now, correct?”

“No, none at all.” Except for the occasional harassment at school, but I keep that to myself.

She makes another note in my file, probably something like “stupid loser having sex with a druggie.” Not that I’d blame her. That’s fairly accurate.

A blood draw later and a quick stop to get a Very Berry Smoothie, and I’m on my way back to my apartment. It’s Thursday and I have a ton of homework, which should keep me busy until I pass out from exhaustion.

Mindy pops her head out of her bedroom as soon as I get home. “Hey, where were you?”

I drop my purse in the kitchen and meet her in the living room. “Doctor’s appointment.”

“You sick?” Her gaze roams over my face as if she’s looking for physical evidence, and I’m glad I thought to take off the cotton ball on my inner arm from the blood draw.

“No, just tired, so my mom thought I should see a doctor.” I take a slurp from my smoothie, filling my mouth with the tart goodness before I spill my guts to my roommate.

I know I need to tell her eventually, but every time I get close, I freak out, afraid of how she’ll react. I’m getting enough lectures from the people in my life and have zero desire to add Mindy to the list.

“First she makes you take the vitamins and now the doctor?” She laughs. “Guess she doesn’t remember how tiring college life is, huh?”

“No, I guess she doesn’t, seeing as she never went to college; she had me when she was sixteen.” I don’t know why I feel so defensive.

“Oh, right.” She twirls a strand of her blond hair. “I think I knew that. Anyway, you want to catch a movie tonight?”

“Can’t. I have too much homework.”

Her eyes narrow. “Since when do you care about homework?”

“It’s time I start putting forth more than minimal effort.” This’ll be my last year at UNLV, and whatever grades I get will have to propel me through life as a single mother. Fuck, that’s depressing.

“You miss him.”

I pop the straw from my mouth and force myself to swallow.

“It’s okay to just admit it, Axelle. He’s your best friend.”

I cough to clear my throat, but the lump that’s been there since Killian left remains. “Of course I miss him.”

“Why don’t you just call him?”

“I already told you I don’t want to bother him.” And there’s the tiny little issue of him not giving me his number. “This is a huge deal for his career, and he doesn’t need distractions.”

She tilts her head. “Since when is friendship a distraction?”

“Look. He didn’t bring his phone for a reason—”