Page 116 of Sugar & Shadows

Cheeks going pink, she swayed closer, but then, like her good sense had kicked in, she took a step back. “I’ll help you clean.”

Shit. She’d had a hell of a day, yet she was offering to go out of her way for me. Damn. I was beginning to think she saw me. I’d avoided letting anyone look behind the curtain my entire adult life. Yet here she was.

And I think I liked it.

“No,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s the least I can do. I did show up here and threaten your life. That was not cool.”

Without waiting for a response, she wandered into the kitchen and opened the cabinet below the sink as if she knew exactly where I kept things.

“You also threatened my balls,” I reminded her as she returned with a trash bag.

That earned me a glare. “They deserved it. They know what they did.”

Chapter 29

Sabrina

Ishould have left Gabe in Maplewood. He was being too nice. Too supportive. I preferred difficult people. They made sense, they were predictable, and I had a lifetime of experience managing them. Kind people? Too unpredictable.

He’d arrived this morning with my favorite latte, a breakfast sandwich, and a smile for my mother.

As Harper would say, it was suss.

Gabe insisted on driving the ninety minutes to Burlington. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was relieved. While he navigated his Jeep cautiously, I caught up on emails and attempted to calm my raging anxiety. I may have done a little too much online research about this procedure.

I was now familiar with the statistical risks of infection, miscarriage, and preterm birth. The litigation history of two manufacturers too. And I had accidentally joined a Reddit thread called “Mirena Miracles” populated by parents who had been through this situation. I’d ugly cried several times.

The sooner I got this ineffective IUD out, the better.

The doctor’s office was part of the UVM medical campus rather than a historic home or a squat building downtown in so many small communities. It felt nice to be in a city for once. It wasn’t a real city; this was still Vermont, after all. But Burlington was vibrant and artsy and smelled like coffee and fresh lake water, and the streets were filled with bookstores, murals, and shops selling ethically sourced knitwear.

“I’m Dr. Moss.” The high-risk ob-gyn was tall and capable-looking with short gray hair and a bright smile.

She started off by reviewing the procedure, which would start with a transvaginal ultrasound to confirm viability, heartbeat, gestational age, and the placement of the IUD.

“Then,” she said, “if the strings remain accessible, I will remove the IUD with real-time ultrasound guidance.” Her tone was confident and reassuring. “Given the placement sent over from your primary care physician, this should be quick and easy. If things are more complicated, we may have to sedate you for a more in-depth procedure.”

I nodded, my hands going clammy.

“Once it’s removed, you can expect some cramping and spotting. You should follow up with your doctor after two weeks to confirm that everything is on track.”

“Anything we should be looking out for?” Gabe asked thoughtfully.

Of course he asked that. I’d spent the time I wasn’t working on the drive here catastrophizing while he’d shifted into a calm state usually reserved only for monks.

“Yes. Call us immediately if you experience heavy bleeding, fluid leakage, or fever.”

I looked at Gabe, the blood draining from my face.

“And realistically, what’s the miscarriage risk after removal?” he asked.

“Low,” she said. “But not zero.”

My fingertips went numb and my throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. The room was too cold and too bright.

“But,” she said with a smile, “once we confirm positioning, we will have a better idea. Here is the informed consent paperwork for you to sign.” She pointed to the gown on the table. “I’ll give you a few minutes to review and change before we get started.”