Page 124 of Clinically Bewitched
Anyone but her.
The door to the trauma bay opened, and Dr. Morrison stepped out—Is he grinning?
Not smiling politely. Not maintaining professional composure.
Grinning.From ear to ear, as if he’d just won the lottery.
Behind him, Fitz emerged, also beaming. His expression was one of pure, unfiltered delight.
I stared at them.
Why are they smiling?
Why are they happy?
What the hell is going on?
Morrison’s eyes found mine, and his grin somehow got wider.
“Julien,” he said. “Congratulations.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Congratulations,” he repeated.
Fitz was trying not to laugh.
Stevie gasped, and Woody made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. And I just stood there, completely lost, my mind still cataloging catastrophic diagnoses while everyonearound me looked inexplicablyhappy. “I don’t understand,” I muttered, confused.
Morrison’s grin turned into something almost mischievous.
“Your wife”—he grinned from ear to ear—“is pregnant.”
My world stopped spinning, and I did the one thing I said I wouldn’t do.
I fainted.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Athena
The universe had a sense of humor.
I’d known this for years. I felt it in the way synchronicities aligned, in the way cosmic energy flowed through unexpected channels, in the way destiny had a tendency to laugh at people’s carefully laid plans.
But this?
Thiswas the universe absolutelycackling.
I was lying in a hospital bed, genuinely thrilled to be pregnant, while my husband, the man who’d spent his entire adult life maintaining perfect control over every aspect of his existence, was unconscious in the bed next to me.
He’d fainted.
Julien Darcy fainted.
The neurosurgeon who performed twelve-hour brain surgeries without breaking a sweat had heard the word “pregnant” and just... collapsed.
