She blinked and jerked back, the world coming into focus again.
Dr. Safar kept her face even. “I take it this was unplanned?”
Uh…yeah. “Yes.”
Dr. Safar nodded. “This is a delicate question, but I always ask it with unplanned pregnancies and reactions to the news like yours.”
Where was she going with this? “Okay.”
“The pregnancy was unplanned, but is it unwanted?”
Charlie answered immediately and started shaking her head. “What? No. I’m keeping it.” She may not know what to do the with the kid once it got here, but she wanted it.
Her eyes went to her body, her hand resting just below her belly button. She was going to have the chance to give a kid a home, give it love the way she’d never had it.
Oh, yes. She wanted the kid. Maybe she hadn’t realized just how much until this moment, but she did want it.
Though, even knowing she was pregnant…she didn’t feel any different. Was she supposed to feel some magical connection to the kid immediately? Was she already failing at motherhood because she didn’t feel it?
“Charlie.”
She blinked and looked up, suddenly remembering she was in an exam room.
Dr. Safar was watching her patiently. “I know this information is a lot to process, and unfortunately, I’m going to be giving you more information. However, before I do that, I need to know whether or not I’m going to continue to be your doctor. I understand that you may need to see the Royal Physician from here on out. If you are, then you should consult him on next steps. They should be the same next steps that I’ll give you, but you should start this journey with the doctor who will deliver your baby.”
Deliver.
Oh God.
The kid was going to come out of her…somehow. Practically, she knew all about birth and dilation and the pain.
You heard a lot about the pain of birth in sex education classes back in the States. She didn’t think there was anything better to promote using protection when having sex than to see what the results could be if someone didn’t. And they’d seen the results, all right, in form of a birth video where they’d seen a baby’s head crowning. Yes, as a teenager she’d seen a head come out of someone’s vagina, and that kind of thing changed you.
Now, Charlie would be the woman they’d seen on the screen.
Oh God.
She started breathing quickly, too quickly, in short, sharp gasps.
“Ms. Wyler.”
Dr. Safar’s voice seemed so far away. Everything was getting dizzy and swirling around her.
“Charlotte! Breathe. Take a longer breath. Not a deep one, a long one. That’s it.”
Charlie was blinking quickly now, trying to shake the haziness.
“That’s it, take another one.”
The world was righting itself again, but her breath was more gaspy than normal. “What just happened?”
“You were on your way to a panic attack.”
Jesus Christ. A panic attack? She’d had a panic attack after finding out about the kid.
The kid!
“The kid’s okay? I didn’t ruin it?”
Dr. Safar smiled. “Babies are quite resilient, but you’ll want to avoid panic attacks in the future. If you feel one coming on, just take long, slow breaths like we just did, all right?”
Charlie nodded. “Okay.”
“I know this is a lot of information. Do you remember what I asked you before the attack?”
Her forehead crinkled as she thought back several minutes. “Uh…about the Royal Physician?”
“That’s right. You don’t have to decide right now, but you do need to decide soon. In the meantime, I’m going to give you some things to read over, and you’ll want to get started on prenatal vitamins and watching what you eat.”
“I don’t want to carry anything out of here.” Though she wasn’t the press or paparazzi’s favorite target, it wouldn’t help things if the public found out she was pregnant before Nate did.
Nate. How was she going to tell Nate?
“I’ll send it to you electronically. Read it over. If you have any questions, you’re always welcome to contact me, even if you decide to use the Royal Physician. All right?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. So, next steps for today: we’ll do a quick ultrasound and exam, and I’ll take some more blood. Then, you can sit in my office while I bring Rebecca in here to talk.”
“Is she pregnant?”
Dr. Safar’s lips pursed. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”
“Grace?” They hadn’t heard from her all day. She and Rebecca figured it must not have been good news, so they didn’t push Grace for information, but they’d wanted to know.
“I can’t answer that, either.”
Charlie sagged a little.
“Let’s do that ultrasound, shall we?”
Charlie slid off the exam table. She walked gingerly at first, then wondered why. She’d walked normally an hour before. Nothing had changed, yet everything had changed.
She couldn’t wrap her head around it yet. It had only been twenty minutes since she’d found out. Maybe she just needed time.
Charlie changed into a gown and Dr. Safar completed the exam. She told her it seemed like the baby was around six weeks.
Six fucking weeks.
She’d been a mother for six weeks and not known it. Shouldn’t she have known it? Was she already a shitty mother for not knowing or recognizing the changes in her own body?
She was still a little dazed when they walked back to Dr. Safar’s office after. She sat down, and Rebecca didn’t hesitate to ask.
“Well?”
“I’m pregnant.” She said it before considering that she probably should have told Nate first. Then again, if she’d avoided telling Rebecca, that would have given the answer away anyway, since she wouldn’t hold off to tell Nate she wasn’t pregnant.
Rebecca gripped her hand and held tight. “Oh, Charlie. I’m so happy for you. You and Nate.”
“Thanks.”
Rebecca’s brows wrinkled in concern. “You are happy about this, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “It’s just a shock, that’s all. Have you heard from Grace?”
“No. I’m starting to get worried.”
“I’ll try calling her.”
Dr. Safar was waiting by the door. “Rebecca? If you’ll follow me?”
This time Charlie squeezed Rebecca’s hand, then Rebecca rose and followed Dr. Safar out.
Her eyes drifted down her body again.
How was she going to do this?
How was she going to be a mother, when she knew nothing about it?
How in the fuck was she going to tell Nate?
* * *
Rebecca took a deep breath. She was sitting on the exam table in a paper gown, which Dr. Safar had asked her to change into. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but she didn’t question it.
She just wanted to know. Had to know. There was so much pressure on her to conceive. The articles and headlines were nearly daily now.
Where’s the Heir?
What’s the Future if Princess Rebecca Can’t Conceive?
Spare Heir Comes in Handy! The alternative to Princess Rebecca’s un-conception.
Over the last several months, she’d started to feel as if she’d let the country down, her family down, and Alex down.
He’d been wonderful, though. He didn’t care if she ever conceived, and he’d made that clear time and time again. After all, he did have eight other brothers and sisters, some with children of their own. Even removing Arianna’s daughter from the line of succession—since she would likely grow up and rule her father’s country of Brazenbourg—would still leave an heir for Valleria.
Probably worst of all in this mess was how she felt about herself, which was a complete and total utter failure. A failure as a princess, as a leader, and most of all as a woman. It was true she was in the second
half of her thirties, but women still had children at that age or even into their forties. Why couldn’t her body cooperate with her? Why couldn’t it just do what she wanted it, needed it to do?
A knock came at the door and Dr. Safar entered without waiting for Rebecca’s answer.
“I’m just going to do a quick exam first, all right?”
After an internal exam and ultrasound, during which Rebecca couldn’t see the screen but could see Dr. Safar’s frowning face, she was once again sitting.
Dr. Safar shifted her stool, its wheels rolling smoothly along the tile floor. She moved her doctor’s coat slightly, then took Rebecca’s hand.
Dr. Safar’s face was kind. It was always kind, but now there was something else.
Oh God.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca.”
Rebecca sucked in a breath.
“You’ve had a miscarriage.”
Rebecca’s breath exhaled on a tortured sob.
“I’m so sorry.”
Rebecca covered her eyes with her free hand.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
She’d been pregnant. Pregnant! Finally after so long.
But she wasn’t anymore.
“Why?” she choked out. “How?”
Dr. Safar’s voice was low and soft, her hand tight around Rebecca’s. “Unfortunately, this early in a pregnancy, it’s difficult to know the exact cause. However, you are not to blame here.”
But she was to blame. She wasn’t sure how, but she had to be.
It was her fault. All her fault.
Maybe she hadn’t intentionally done something, but her body had done it all the same.
“Over fifteen percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage in the first trimester. Depending upon the circumstances, many women go on to have successful pregnancies later on.”
Why couldn’t she have had one now? Then she’d be pregnant and happy and…not so unbelievably fucking sad.
“You’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while now. That you were able to conceive is a wonderful thing. That means there is a good chance you may be able to in the future.”
“How do you know? You don’t,” Rebecca bit out. “You didn’t know what was wrong with me, why I have so much pain all the time. You didn’t know why we couldn’t get pregnant before. You don’t know why I lost my baby now. How do you know I’ll get pregnant again?”
She choked on the last words and started sobbing again.
God, she wanted Alex.
She should have told him she suspected, then he’d be here with her. She wouldn’t be alone.
“Would you like me to bring in Charlotte?”
Rebecca shook her head automatically. She’d forgotten about Charlie who, though she loved her, wasn’t Alex. She only wanted Alex. “Please, can you tell her what happened, ask her to call Alex?”
Dr. Safar squeezed her hand, then let go. “Of course.”
“Will I…I mean, when Alex gets here, can I go home?”
“I’m afraid not. We’ll need to do a dilation and curettage, or D&C. This will remove the tissue from your uterus. It will take a few hours to complete the procedure, then you’ll need to rest here for a couple hours before going home. I can complete this here, unless you’d rather use the Royal Physician and his offices.”
If she went to see the royal-approved physician then she’d have to tell him what happened and how it happened and…well, she just couldn’t deal with that now. “Here, please.”
“All right. Just sit tight. Can I get you anything?”
“Just Alex.” If she could have called him herself without sobbing through the call, she would have. He deserved to hear it from her, but she just didn’t have the emotional strength to be strong for him right now. She needed his strength first.
After Dr. Safar left, she curled into a ball on the exam table, buried her face in both hands, and cried.
Later, it was only when she felt Alex’s familiar touch on her hair that she paused.
Her hands fell away, her eyes took in his ravaged face, and then they both reached for each other. He sat down and curled her into his lap, holding her tight against his chest.
Then, Alex—her love, her best friend, her strength, and Valleria’s strength—grieved with her. He only let her go when they needed to start prepping for the procedure, but he gripped her hand instead.
Through the next several hours, they didn’t exchange words, only looks that said everything and gentle caresses that meant everything.
When she left the hospital, they did it discreetly, Alex carrying her all the way, then holding her in the car. When they arrived at the palace, he once again carried her through long, winding corridors and eventually to their apartments in the Royal Wing.
Exhausted from it all—the crying, the procedure, the feeling of failure—she fell into a fitful sleep, Alex still awake beside her.
Chapter Six
Grace drew a lazy circle with her finger in the bath water. It was just the right temperature, perfumed with her favorite scent, and, best of all, Marcello was in the bath with her, spooning her from behind.
Yet, she was still unspeakably sad.
She wasn’t pregnant. The test was a false positive.
She’d yet to tell Rebecca or Charlie, had avoided their calls, so she didn’t know if they were pregnant, either. She’d message them soon. Right now, she just wanted to feel her sadness and grieve as she needed to.
Living as she had, with the people she’d had before Marcello—namely her useless, abusive husband—she’d learned the hard way that there were degrees of sadness. A sadness scale, of sorts. The scale adjusted every time something bad happened in life.
When she’d lost her child after one of her husband’s most violent moments, that scale had shattered. It was rebuilt with that event as the saddest she’d ever been.
The loss of her father had fallen lower on the scale. Grief never changed, nor did the amount she grieved. However, with perspective, she was able to cope with loss better after the loss of her child, because she now knew what utter despair was.
This time, her sadness wasn’t nearly as bad as losing a child, but it was towards that end of the scale.
Something else shifting the scale this time was Marcello. She’d been alone when she’d lost her child, when she’d lost her father, and even when her husband had been killed in a car accident. The last, though, she didn’t grieve that much. Or at all.
So, having Marcello here with her, going through this setback with her, she didn’t feel alone. And that was helping her cope better, too.
“All right, my fair Grace?”
“Yes.”
His arm around her midriff tightened gently. “What do you need?”
She settled in deeper against him, though it didn’t seem possible considering how close they were already. “I just need you.”
Liking her answer, he nuzzled the space behind her ear, then kissed her neck. “Do you want to go home after the wedding?”
Their wedding. Just a few short days away. Despite the sadness of today, she was looking forward to it immensely. “We are home.”
“I meant your home in England.”
Your home. He was always careful with his words—in his job, he had to be—but she didn’t think he realized what he’d just said. Though he was happy with her in England and may make a home with her there, his duty and the home of his heart would be here in Valleria.
Since they’d first become a couple, they’d spent a lot of time in England together. She would never get rid of her family’s ancestral home and lands, and she would need to see to it from time-to-time, but now they should make a life together here.
“Let’s stay in Valleria after the wedding.”
He stilled. “You sure?”
“Yes. It’s nearly summer, isn’t it? Summer in Valleria is lovely.”
“So is summer in England.”
“Summer in England is rainy.”
He leaned in and whispered.
“I fell in love with you in the rain.”
Oh, her Marcello. “Still, we should stay here. After all, it’s not like we’re getting a honeymoon.”
She felt his grin against her skin. “Not a proper one, but we’ll have a few days to ourselves.”
“Sounds lovely.”
“You want to eat here or with the family?”
“Let’s stay in tonight. I just want a quiet evening and an easy rest.”
He kissed her temple. “Then that’s what you’ll get.” He kissed her once more, then untangled himself from her to step out of the tub.
She watched the water sluicing down his long, lean body. The scars of his missions and near-misses were etched on his skin. She loved him. Loved each and every scar. Loved each and every inch, particularly those several inches dangling between his legs. Though she wanted to do something with those several inches—or have those several inches do something to her—she didn’t have the energy for it tonight.
Tomorrow, however, was another story.
Yes, she still felt sad. She’d still feel sad tomorrow, but she’d feel happiness in its many, varied forms, too.
In a few days, she’d be getting married to the man she loved. She’d feel happiness then as well and, more importantly, contentment that she’d finally found someone who loved her the way she deserved to be loved.
* * *
“We’re pregnant,” Charlie said.
There was no response. Not that she expected any, as she was practicing the words to herself in front of her and Nate’s bathroom mirror.
She looked too frightened that time. Still, it was better than the first time when she’d looked abso-fucking terrified.
Deep breath. “We’re pregnant.”
Should she say ‘we’? Was that a thing? Should it be ‘I’ instead? She didn’t want to leave Nate out, but she was the one who was pregnant. She was the one who’d have to carry the baby for the next thirty-four weeks.
Thirty. Four. Weeks.
Jesus Christ.
Deep breath. Okay. It would be okay. She just had to not screw up the kid for thirty-four weeks until it was born, followed by nine-hundred-thirty-six weeks until the kid turned eighteen.
Wait. People came of age at seventeen in Valleria.
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