Page 228 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
She distanced herself and looked back at my belly. “You’re pregnant. Look at that little gut of yours.”
I wiped my tears. “I’m that person who shows up at the hospital, complaining about stomach cramps, only to find out, I’m ready to give birth.”
“Yup, that’s you.” Delaney and Derk laughed. “Jesus, Rosie. Don’t you keep track of your period?”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Derk held up his hands. “I’m going to hit the shower.”
“Wait”—I turned to Derk—“Henry knows?”
“He suspects.” Derk sighed. “If I were you, I would have a conversation with him. Communication is key in a relationship.”
“Okay,” Delaney scoffed. “This coming from the guy who can’t even talk about an ingrown hair near his nut sac.”
“That’s private,” Derk shouted.
“Whatever.” Delaney picked up her phone and dialed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m making you an appointment to see your doctor. We need to get an ultrasound going and figure this all out. First things first, the baby’s health.”
I couldn’t argue with her . . . she was right.
“But before we go anywhere, we both need to take showers because we smell like dead carcasses. Like, honestly, how can one person smell like sour milk so badly?” Delaney waved her hand in front of her nose and stood downwind of me. I sniffed myself and didn’t pick up any sour milk smell.
“Hello, do you have any cancellations for today? My friend just found out she’s pregnant . . . she’s probably three months along and hasn’t seen a doctor.” Delaney paused for a second and then laughed. “I know. She could totally be on that show.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to the couch, where I sat and picked up my phone. I stared at the text messages that had come from Henry, and I wondered what I should do. He knew I was pregnant . . .andpushed me away. What did that mean?There was only one viable conclusion, but I really didn’t want to think it let alone say it.
Derk was right when it came to communication, but I was also nervous about what Henry wanted to actually say to me. Was he not ready to be a dad?
Text message after text message passed through my phone. I scrolled through all of them, questioning whether Henry and I were going to be able to make it. Or was the beginning of the end for us?
* * *
“One forty-two,” the nurse said out loud after I got off the scale. “One pound gain.”
“Thank you,” I said tersely, wanting to smack the grin off her face. I snatched my purse from Delaney and followed the nurse into the same exam room I had stormed out of only a few days ago.
“Miss Bloom, please go ahead and change behind the partition. There is a robe in the back.”
“I brought mine from the last appointment,” I said, pulling the robe I walked down the streets of New York City in. “Reduce, reuse, recycle . . . right?”
“Mm-hmm.” The nurse gave me a very judgmental once-over and then left the room.
Once the door was shut, Delaney gave me a disgusted look. “Well, she’s kind of a bitch.”
“Kind of? She’s been judging me since the minute I stepped on that damn scale. She wouldn’t take my word for how much I weighed.”
“What did you tell her you weighed?”
“That’s beside the point,” I answered, stepping behind the partition to get changed.
The room was cold, so taking off my clothes was unpleasant. I shivered when I put the stupid front-opening robe on. The flaps in the front wanted to expose everything, and the sleeves were cut wide enough that side boob was very prevalent.
Self-conscious, I peeked my head past the partition. “Um, could you not look?”
Annoyed, Delaney put down the magazine she was thumbing through. “Rosie, I’ve seen your vagina so many times, it’s as if it was my own.”
