Page 77 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

As I sipped my soda, Thea came to the kitchen. “If you’re not up for pizza, we can reschedule.”

“No! I’ll be fine.” I smiled wider. “It always passes. And the ginger ale helps.”

“Good. That always helped me too,” she said, looking toward her children.

My eyes followed her to where Logan was helping Collin build a tunnel out of the empty boxes.

There was no way I could be pregnant. Right? I hadn’t had my period lately, but that was normal for me. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go four or five months without a cycle. On top of that, my cervical mucus was abnormal. It basically murdered sperm that dared get close enough.

No, there was no chance I was pregnant. The test results were definitive.

The day our fertility specialist had called to deliver the results, I’d been so nervous, I’d made Adam take the call. He’d listened intently, nodding along as the doctor spoke, and after he’d hung up, he’d told me everything.

Then he’d held me as I’d fallen apart on our living room couch.

So even though Kaine and I barely kept our hands off one another, there was no way I could be pregnant, not without a doctor to implant a fertilized egg into my uterus.

Kaine was no doctor.

I was definitely not pregnant.

“You are pregnant, Ms. Campbell. Your blood tests confirm it.”

It was the third time the doctor had said those three words. You are pregnant.

“I don’t understand.” My mouth was flapping open. “Are you sure that’s my blood sample you’re looking at?” I peered around the doctor’s shoulder, pointing to the file in her hand as I double-checked the name.

She just laughed, showing me that it was in fact my name at the top. “I’m sure.”

My hands dove into my hair. “I cannot believe this.”

“Congratulations.” She smiled as I sat stunned on the exam table. “If your nausea continues, keep up with the ginger ale. Saltine crackers help some women. And if it persists or gets unmanageable, your OB can prescribe something stronger.”

I managed a nod as she congratulated me again and left the room.

Pregnant.

Thea had been right after all.

In the past three days, my nausea had gotten worse, so much so that I couldn’t concentrate on work this morning. Not wanting to give the Kendrick kids a stomach bug, I’d made a trip up to Kalispell to hit an urgent care and get checked out.

And after sitting in the doctor’s office for three hours, answering questions and having tests done, it was official.

I was pregnant.

Me. The Infertile One.

It took me almost thirty minutes to come unstuck from my exam room. A nurse came in three times to check on me—and kick me out—but I just stayed on the table, staring at the gray walls in disbelief. Finally, after the nurse’s fourth visit, I collected my purse and walked through the clinic in a daze.

I passed the doctor again and she gave me another congratulations. I nodded my good-bye, then went out to my car where I sat for twenty minutes, my hands frozen on the steering wheel.

Pregnant. I was pregnant.

With a baby.

I was having a baby.

This was a dream, right? Or was it a nightmare? Would I wake up, only to find myself alone in bed and the one thing I’d always wanted taken away from me again?