The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance
Page 13
“Max mon cher,” her mother’s voice spread like a noxious cloud inside his head.
“Maman, what can I do for you?” Max replied.
“Je voulais juste voir comment vous faisiez mon cherie,” Claire Lestrange said. She wasn’t even French; she’d moved to France when she married Oscar Lestrange but she was originally from the Mid West. Max had gone to school in France, he’d spent only holidays in America until he joined Harvard University to pursue law and yet he didn’t keep dropping French words into his conversations like his mother did. He found her to be an extremely pretentious twat. Perhaps because she was little better than white trash before her Oscar picked her up at a county fair one day and fancied himself in love with her. The honeymoon had lasted only long enough to produce one child and then Oscar and Claire Lestrange had gone their separate ways. Not too far though…Oscar wouldn’t grant her full custody and Claire was not about to let go of that child support.
“I am doing well thank you for asking Maman, however I’m very tired and I need my rest so I will talk to you another time,” he said hanging up before she could come up with the real reason for her call which probably involved some sob story about how she needed more money. Now that his father was dead, Max was in charge of his vast fortune in real estate and automotive parts. The latter had began as a passion of Oscar’s and had grown into a multi million dollar enterprise with an exclusive Formula One contract. That was in addition to his own businesses in America that mostly consisted of making deals and getting in on the ground floor of profitable ventures. His investment in the Fast and Furious franchise for example had netted him a pretty penny plus his company provided the parts for all the cars.
He’d said he was tired just to get rid of his mother but Max found himself drifting off to sleep soon after that phone call. He guessed this…whatever it was…was really taking it out of him.
*****
“It might be cancer,” Dr. Benson said looking solemn. “It might be just a severe case of prostatis. We have to be prepared-“
“Is it going to kill me Carlyle?” Max interrupted.
Dr. Benson sighed. “No. You’re in excellent health and this type of cancer is curable. But we’re jumping the gun here; the disease is not confirmed. The results of the biopsy are not out.”
“What does the treatment entail?” Max asked ignoring the disclaimers.
“It varies from watching the situation to aggressive radiotherapy,” Carlyle said.
“I vote for the latter,” Max said at once.
“We have to wait for the results Max,” Carlyle said with a tired sigh.
“What are the repercussions of treatment. Haven’t I heard something about impotence?”
Carlyle took a seat and crossed his legs. “Yes, impotence is a possible side effect, as well as sterility. There are also other effects and hence why we need to be sure before we go further,” he said sternly.
“Hey Carlyle, while we are waiting for results would it be possible for me to go home?” Max asked.
Dr. Benson thought about it. “I suppose Martha can watch over you just as well if not better than the nurses here. You cannot stay alone, she will have to board with you while you’re invalid,” he said.
Max rolled his eyes but nodded his acquiescence.
*
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