give my name to the receptionist, and she points me to a door, indicating I should come through. Another woman meets me and offers to take me directly to Sasha, her peppiness grating on my last nerve. Instead, I ask that she lead me to the billing department.
Her smile fades, but she directs me to a small waiting room and says someone will be right with me. I sit and look around at pictures of smiling babies everywhere, some with doting parents holding them close.
Fuck. I close my eyes to avoid the happy families all around me.
How the hell did I get here?
It seems like a lifetime, but finally, a woman walks in and asks me to come with her. I don’t make eye contact with anyone as we go through a long hall and enter an office where another woman waits for me with a professional smile.
“Mr. Bennett, please come in.”
I sit in the chair across from her desk and take out my wallet. “I’d like for you to keep my card on file for any incidentals, copays, or extra services Miss Crane requests. Anything this baby needs should be charged here.”
Her eyes dart between me and her computer screen. “Sasha’s insurance covers most prenatal appointments, and it looks like there are a few deductibles that will kick in for the actual birth.”
“Use this.” I tap my finger against the card.
“Okay.” She takes it and runs it through a machine then hands it back. “I’ll make a note in the computer.”
“Thank you. Now, I need to know how to get a copy of all the medical records pertaining to the prenatal appointments and Miss Crane’s progress.”
“Oh, that’s no problem. She has portal access to every blood test, result, sonogram, and upcoming appointment. It’ll be easy for her to give you.”
“Does she have to approve?” I ask coldly.
Her expression changes as she nods.
“Sasha and I are not together. I’d like to be kept abreast of all activity with my child. How do I gain that?”
She shifts uncomfortably and avoids eye contact. “I wasn’t aware of this situation. She will need to give you permission to obtain her records.”
“What about my baby’s?”
“She will still need to give permission.”
“Okay, what if we have a court order? Legal documentation? A warrant?”
“Yes, we will have to work with certain legal documentation.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I stand, knowing exactly what Caldwell will need if Sasha refuses. “Now, can someone show me to Miss Crane’s room?”
“Of course.” She gets up and leads me to a waiting room without another word.
That little meeting should feed the gossip mill for a while.
Yet, another woman comes and asks me to follow her. When we get to the door, she knocks lightly and gives me a huge smile, telling me they’ve been waiting for me.
Her words don’t register until I walk in and stop mid-stride. There’s someone in front of Sasha’s tented legs with a machine on her stomach. That’s not what has me stunted. Instead, I’m faced with a woman holding Sasha’s hand that is the spitting image of her, only older, and she’s beaming at me.
I resist the urge to run out of the room when she speaks, and Sasha shoots me a wicked, conspiring glare.
“Ren! We’ve been waiting for you. You’re in time.” The woman waves me to the table and points to the screen. “The sonographer just started. Here’s your baby!”
She’s clearly excited to see her grandchild, and my heart drops.
Sasha set me up. She knew I’d be here today through the communication of our lawyers. I’m a lame duck, and she’s daring me to act out in front of her mom.
Well played, bitch.
I stay standing and don’t miss the disappointment on her mom’s face when I don’t step closer. Instead, I give the sonographer a chin jerk, urging her to go on. She moves the instrument over Sasha’s stomach and points out a few different limbs. I’m too shocked to comprehend most of what she says but stare at the vivid screen, knowing my child is there.
The need to have Bizzy close suddenly overwhelms me, and I realize this is a colossal mistake. How’d I think she’d be okay with this?
I force myself to pay attention until the sonographer moves away and pictures pour out of the machine.
Sasha’s mom looks at me expectantly, waiting… For what? I don’t know.
I glance at the pictures again.
I should want one.
I should have one.
I should demand one.
Then, the most grating and obnoxious sound echoes through the room as Sasha starts laughing.