Triplets for The Millionaire - K.C. Crowne Page 0,81

explanation for what was happening to me. And my period was late – it was never late.

I needed to find out. I hurried out of the break room and headed down to the pharmacy. On the way out I spotted Finn, and part of me wanted to stop and chat with him to see how Patrick was doing. But I was a bad liar – he’d know something was up.

Instead of just going to the pharmacy inside the hospital, I was in my car and driving as quicky as I could while still staying around the speed limit. I made a quick stop at the nearest drugstore and then was off to find a restroom. I’d purchased one of the fancy digital readout tests, which meant I’d only have to wait a few seconds for the results. I paced the small restroom as I waited, the test in my hands.

Positive.

I was pregnant.

My world turned upside down in an instant. An already complicated situation had become even more so.

I had to think of something, and fast. Patrick was the only guy I’d been with in years, so there was no doubt he was the father. And with everything happening, the last thing he needed was to have this dropped on his lap. He was stressed enough, and news like this would only make him more so.

I felt a strange sense of calm. There hadn’t been a problem in my life that I hadn’t been able to solve, and this would be no exception.

Chapter 27

PATRICK

I woke up the morning of the surgery feeling strangely peaceful. The sun was soft as it streamed in through the windows, the room quiet and calm.

I was ready.

I lay there for several minutes, trying to come to terms with what was going to happen. In an hour or so, I’d be on the operating table, Lola above me as she operated on my eyes and took the rest of my life into her hands.

The door opened and a nurse entered. “Good morning, Mr. O’Conner,” she said, her voice sing-songy. “How are you feeling?”

“About as well as I could hope for a man who doesn’t know if he’s going to be blind at the end of the day.”

She laughed a laugh that was a little too chipper considering the circumstances. “You’re going to be just fine. Dr. Willard will take good care of you.”

I snapped my head toward the sound of her voice. “Dr. Willard? No, Dr. Bridges is my surgeon.”

“Not anymore. She handed the surgery to Dr. Willard out of the Pitt Medical Boulder clinic.”

I was confused. “Wait, what? Why did she do that?” Had I run her off with my poor attitude and bad behavior?

“Couldn’t tell you. But she’s here now, if you want to ask her yourself.”

I sat up straight. “She’s here now? Yes, please send her in.”

“Will do!” The too-chipper nurse bounced out of the room.

My heart began to race. What was going on? Why had Lola taken herself off the surgery? I wanted some answers.

When Lola appeared in the door, I knew I was going to get them. I was still having vision problems, but I could see she was dressed in casual clothes, not prepped for surgery.

“Morning,” she said as she walked closer to me.

“Lola, what the hell’s going on?”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and nodded. “She told you I was off the surgery, right? She’s kind of a blabbermouth.”

“And a little too damned happy for this early in the morning.”

Lola placed her hand on mine. “You’re going to be fine. You’re in good hands. I know it sounds scary with them poking around in your eyes, but this is a very routine procedure.”

Scary. Fear – like the kind that had been crippling me over the last few days. I needed to say something. I needed to make things right before I went under the knife.

“I’m sorry, Lola,” I said. “I’ve been acting like a spoiled child and I—”

She placed her hand on my shoulder, her touch silencing me. “It’s fine. You’ve got surgery ahead of you, and I want your head there. We can talk about all the rest after you’re patched up, okay?”

I nodded. “But why aren’t you the one doin’ it? You’re the best in the business – I trust your hands more than anyone’s.”

“Because this is hard for me, too. When I’m a doctor, I’m a doctor. I’m professional and distant. And sometimes that helps, but I’ve realized that other times it’s nothing more