Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4) - Nalini Singh Page 0,50
gripping at her purse. Abe couldn’t stand to see her so distressed. Putting one hand over hers, he met the doctor’s eyes. “She thinks the antibiotics messed with the pill and she might be pregnant.”
“The ones I gave you shouldn’t have counteracted the pill unless… Did you throw up at any point? That could’ve had an impact on the effectiveness of the pill.”
“Yes.” Sarah swallowed, her fingers curling over the side of Abe’s hand. “It was the night before the monthly anniversary of Aaron’s death. I just couldn’t keep anything down.”
“Ah.” The doctor looked gently at Sarah, and in his expression, Abe saw a deep understanding of Sarah’s loss, compassion for the little baby boy who had never breathed. And he realized the kindhearted man had asked to speak to Sarah directly not simply because he’d wanted to check she was over the flu: Dr. Snyder was a rare being—a true healer, one who cared about his patients’ mental as well as physical well-being.
“I’m guessing you want to confirm as soon as possible?” At Sarah’s nod, Dr. Snyder said, “Home pregnancy tests are surprisingly sensitive, but if you want absolute certainty, I’d recommend a blood test.”
Sarah nodded. “The blood test. I want to know beyond any doubt.”
“Our blood test results usually come back overnight, but I can put a rush on it.” The older man was already pulling up the form on his computer. “It probably won’t be covered by your insurance.”
“That’s fine,” Abe said.
Sarah was in no shape to handle any kind of a delay.
Squeezing her hand again when she parted her lips as if to disagree with his implicit offer to pay, he continued to speak. “Are we talking a couple of hours, half a day?” he asked Dr. Snyder.
“I’ll draw the blood myself, send it by rush courier to the laboratory. You should have the results this afternoon.”
SARAH WAS BACK IN ABE’S SUV WITHIN fifteen minutes of the start of the consultation, a tiny square bandage in the crook of her arm where Dr. Snyder had taken the blood sample. She felt as if she were living in a dream world, everything surreal. “I have a meeting scheduled for later today.”
“Can you postpone?” Abe pulled out of the underground garage and into the searing sunshine of an LA day.
Sliding on her sunglasses, Sarah found her phone, made the call, still feeling oddly distant. “I should’ve kept it,” she said after hanging up. “I don’t know what I’m going to do while we wait to hear back from Dr. Snyder.”
Abe placed one big hand on her leg, the touch one of comfort rather than sexual. She knew she should push him away, but she closed her hand over the warmth of his. She needed comfort today, needed to hang on to something or someone lest she shatter.
“We could watch a movie,” Abe suggested.
“No, I need to do something or I’ll lose my mind.” She rubbed her face. “I’m going to clean my house from top to bottom.” It would keep her hands and legs busy, hopefully distract her brain.
“I’ll help.”
“There’s no need.” She had to grit her teeth to make herself break the connection between them, gently nudging his hand back to his side of the vehicle. “I’ll call soon as the doctor gets in touch.”
“I’ll go nuts waiting on my own.” Abe shot her a look that hid none of his own tension, and she remembered there were two of them in this.
“And,” he added, “I bet you never shift all the furniture to clean underneath because some of it’s too heavy.”
The chambers of her heart seemed to fill with nails, sharp and painful, at the same time that stubborn flickers of hope whispered awake inside her. She tried to shove them aside, the pain and the hope both. “I’ll make you vacuum.”
“I can take it.”
Sarah wasn’t sure she could.
Having Abe home, the two of them doing a domestic chore together, had been one of her stupid daydreams during their marriage. Instead of dreaming about going to big, glamorous events as his date or experiencing exotic vacations by his side, she’d dreamed small, domestic dreams.
And today, when she was at her most vulnerable, her most defenseless, one of those dreams was going to come true.
CHAPTER 18
TWO HOURS LATER, Abe felt like he’d moved every piece of furniture in Sarah’s home. His arms ached, but the ache was a glorious one. In spite of her threat, she hadn’t actually made him vacuum, but she had made him pick