Page 235 of The Professor's Wife
I could have burst into tears right there, but I swallowed hard and managed a nod.
“I’m all right.”
She leaned closer and lowered her voice.
“Honey, do you feel safe at home?”
The question was sudden.
I sputtered for a moment. “Yes…”
But the answer came out breathless and uncertain. She looked so caring. So inviting. She continued to watch me in that soul-crushing way.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t ready to,” she said. “But if you need somewhere safe to go, there are people who can help.”
It couldn’t be that easy.
No way.
I stepped back and shook my head adamantly.
“I…I just want to get my blood done.”
She nodded and smiled tenderly.
“All right. Don’t worry, though. It’s still a long wait. We’ve had several urgent pediatric cases come in, and the clinic closes at four. I’m concerned we may not reach everyone today.”
As though summoned by her words, a baby began to cry.
I looked toward the mother calming the child in her arms. Then I looked away quickly, trying to steel myself against the sound. The crying. The crowded room. The fear that Oliver might appear at any moment.
Sensory overload tightened around me.
“I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me…”
I turned and left the clinic again.
Outside, I pressed my back against the brick wall beside the entrance and shut my eyes. I drew in several deep breaths, trying to calm myself.
I’m scared.
This had been such a terrible mistake.
Once Oliver discovered I wasn’t pregnant, he would know I had made it all up. He would calculate when I was truly due. All hell would break loose.
And I wasn’t strong enough for another punishment—
“Daze.”
The familiar voice made my eyes fly open.
His broad figure was blurred for a moment. My vision swam with tears, but I held them back, and within seconds, he became clear.
“Tristan,” I whispered, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
His guitar case was slung across his back, and a leather satchel crossed his wide chest.
He glanced briefly at the clinic entrance before looking back at me.
