Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,6

that I’m surprised she can breathe.

I can see it in his eyes. He’s close to breaking too.

I feel like I’m intruding on an intimate moment. A moment that should be shared between husband and wife and their baby. A happy couple who are unable to conceive without modern medicine. Yet, here I am.

The oven.

The girl with a healthy uterus, but no one to use it with.

The realization sucks. Hard.

Sometimes life really isn’t fair.

Then that same thump, thump, thump echoes through the room, reminding me that sometimes we find a loophole to sway it in our favor. And I’m so glad Anthony and Sway get to cheat the plan fate had laid before them.

And that I get to help them do it.

“Man, I’m a mess. I’m never a mess,” Sway chokes out with a pathetic laugh before wiping away a fresh wave of tears that fall down her cheeks in rivulets. “Thank you. Both of you.” She squeezes my hand again before sniffling. “Thank you so much.”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip to keep my composure, but it doesn’t do much. The tears still threaten to escape, no matter how much I try to hold them back.

What do I say to that?

You’re welcome?

It just…doesn’t do it justice, especially because I’m the one who feels honored to have this opportunity. If only I could make them understand that.

Squeezing her hand in return, I nod, positive that I look like a bobblehead but unable to say a word.

“I’m going to go clean up in the bathroom while you guys finish the exam,” Sway announces. “We’ll meet you in the waiting room, okay, Marce?”

“Sounds great. I’ll uh…”––I swallow past the giant ball of emotion that’s lodged in my throat––“I’ll see you in a few.”

Anthony ushers Sway into the hall as Dr. Bennett presses a little black button on the wall that I assume notifies his nurse to come back into the room. Sure enough, Tracey enters with a small tray of equipment and sets it down on the counter next to the sink.

“We ready?” she asks.

“Yeah.” Stepping away from me, Dr. Bennett wiggles the mouse on the computer screen and scans my chart for a minute then grabs some gloves. “You don’t need a pap today, so we’re going to just do a quick internal exam to check your cervix and make sure everything is in good shape down there. Do you have any questions?”

Ummm…are all your patients like Niagra Falls when you go poking down there or…?

I shake my head. “Nope. No questions.”

Please don’t notice I’m wet. Please don’t notice I’m wet.

“Okay. I’m going to have you put your heels on the edge of the table and scoot down a few inches toward me.” He sits down on a stool near my freaking vajayjay then waits for me to comply.

Aaand it’s official. All the touchy-feely emotions from moments ago disappeared as soon as Sway and Anthony stepped out of the room. Now, I’m drowning in a whole different level of touchy-feely. I press my legs together and count to ten before he soothes, “I promise, this’ll be quick and painless. Don’t stress.”

Oh, I’m stressing, I want to correct him. I’m stressing bad. There’s no way I’m getting out of this with my ego intact.

Still, I follow his instructions and scoot down a few inches before pressing my heels against the padded edge of the table. The cotton blanket is still covering my lower half, but I know it’s only a matter of time before he removes it, and that’s when I’m going to have to fight every instinct in my body to keep from curling up into a ball.

My cheeks flame at the knowledge that I’m seconds away from Dr. Bennett coming up close and personal with my vagina.

Hands gloved and ready for action, he shifts the edge of the blanket up a few inches as my knees press together.

“Take a deep breath,” Dr. Bennett murmurs. His tone is patient and kind and so freaking hot I should fan myself, but I keep my fists clenched around the scratchy cotton material. Staring up at the white ceiling, I do as I’m told and suck in as much oxygen as my lungs can hold.

His deep chuckle vibrates from his chest and hits me in all the right places as he instructs, “Now you have to let the air out, Marcy.”

My lips form a small ‘o’, releasing the air in a slow breath before I start the process all over again while refusing