Page 92 of Wrong Number Right Doctor

Despite myself, I almost smile.

Marcus sees it and shakes his head. “God help us,” he says, and leaves.

My phone lights up one more time.

Maggie: I ate the ass-juice and half the seed brick. Happy?

I type back before I stand for my next patient.

Me: Yes.

Her reply comes as I reach the door.

Maggie: Bossy.

For once, I don’t deny it.

Chapter Twelve

MAGGIE

By week four, I have developed a morning ritual.

Not a cute one. Not the kind of ritual people do in matching pajamas with lemon water and gratitude journals. Mine involves standing in front of the bathroom mirror in my underwear, lifting my shirt, and staring at my stomach like it’s going to leave me a written update.

Nothing.

Every morning, nothing.

Which is logical. I know that. I am a medical student. I’ve read the timelines. I know nobody starts dramatically showing at four weeks unless the uterus is making a public announcement ahead of schedule.

Still, I check.

I turn sideways. Front. Other side.

Nothing.

Also, I’m already big. Not pregnant-big. Just me-big. Soft stomach, real hips, thighs that have never once looked at a chair and wondered if it could handle them. I have lived in this body long enough to understand that subtle changes do not exactly arrive with a spotlight.

So maybe I will not show for a long time.

Maybe I will not show at all until the baby starts demanding square footage.

Baby. The word still makes me pause.

I don’t say it out loud. Not in my apartment. Not in class. Not at the hospital.

Which is becoming a problem because Simone has the observational skills of a hawk, a therapist, and a woman who has survived surgical residency on caffeine and distrust. She’s beside me now, walking out of a small-group session where I have just spent forty minutes pretending to care about coagulation disorders while internally negotiating with my stomach.

“You were quiet,” she says.

“I was listening.”

“You were making the face.”

“What face?”

“The one where your soul has left but your body is still taking notes.”