I’m lying in the hotel bed. Ryder arranged for the doctor to come here, bringing a portable ultrasound machine to the hotel. I guess money can buy you a lot of privileges. The doctor is standing to the side of the bed, with Ryder sitting on the bed right next to me, but not touching me.
Dr. Myers rubs his hands together to warm them, which makes me instantly like him. He’s an older man with kind eyes. Wonder how Ryder found him? Celebrity OBs R Us?
He lifts my shirt, squirting the cold jelly on my belly. I notice Ryder staring at what used to be my flat stomach, now pooching out. “Let’s take a look,” the doctor says, placing the wand on my skin.
Clear as day, my baby’s profile comes on the screen. I feel Ryder lean closer, but try to ignore his presence. The impetus of this ultrasound isn’t a happy couple thrilled at their first glimpse of their growing baby, and I don’t want this moment spoiled any more than it already is. The doctor asks a few standard questions. Date of my last period, any previous pregnancies or miscarriages, whether I’d had any prenatal care. I don’t have any idea what Ryder has told him, but his bedside manner is top notch—smiling, making me feel comfortable. The celebrities must all love him.
“Looks like you’re about ten or eleven weeks. That would give you a due date of around January twenty-seventh or so.”
“That would mean I conceived around when?” I ask, wanting to rub salt in the wound.
Dr. Myers glances between Ryder and me, then he does some quick math in his head. “First of May, I’d say.”
I want to yell, “I told you so,” but I don’t. I know Ryder could just as easily assume that I’d slept with someone else around that time. And if he didn’t, I know Maggie would have no problem throwing such accusations around.
“Healthy?” Ryder asks quietly.
I close my eyes, wondering if he’s hoping something’s wrong, hoping I will miscarry. It’s a terrible thought to have about the father of your child.
“It’s early stages, but the baby’s anatomy looks perfectly normal. Let’s take a listen to the heartbeat.” Dr. Myers turns some knobs on the machine, a steady, strong swoosh sound filling the room. “Very strong.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I focus on the sound, on my baby, not the man next to me, the one who isn’t trying to hold my hand, or comfort me—not that I’d let him. But this is a special moment, and I feel completely alone.
“It’s a tad early to tell gender,” the doctor says. “Need a few more weeks to be able to say for sure.”
I give an understanding nod to Dr. Myers. Silence fills the room. I know why I’m having this test. Ryder knows why we’re here, but I don’t think poor Dr. Myers has a clue. I draw a deep breath and blurt out, as bitchily as possible, “Mr. Merrick would like confirmation that the baby is his.”
If my question caused Dr. Myers to have any contempt for Ryder, he doesn’t show it. He’s probably been through this countless times before with other celebrities and their mistresses, girlfriends, sidepieces, baby mommas. I’m sure he’s seen and heard it all.
Unfazed, Dr. Myers looks at Ryder and says, “Ultrasound isn’t used for that. But we could determine paternity through an amniocentesis.”
The doctor goes on to explain the procedure, and frankly, there is no way in hell I’m going to let him stick a needle in my belly. They’ll have to get a court order, tie me down, and gag me first. But I keep my composure, my face neutral, revealing nothing, not giving Ryder any reason to believe I’m scared of the results. I’m not. I’m as sure of my baby’s father as I am that I’m the mother.
“The procedure is relatively safe, but does carry a risk of miscarriage,” the doctor says.
“No!” Ryder barks, making me jump a little.
I look up at him. “Well, if you want to know . . .”
“I already know,” he says softly, staring at the monitor.
Watching him, my heart softens a little. “I guess we’ll wait until after the baby’s born.”
Ryder shakes his head a little then leans down over me, staring into my eyes. I can’t really go anywhere, I’ve got goo all over my belly. “Not even after the baby’s born,” he whispers.
The intensity in his voice, his eyes, makes my body tingle. It’s a good thing I don’t have a heart rate monitor on me because it would be through the roof right now. The last time Ryder was leaned over me like this, he was buried deep inside, creating this little life I now carry.
“Have you had any bleeding?” Dr. Myers asks, interrupting our moment.
“No,” I say, and both Ryder and I turn our attention back to the monitor.
“Why are you asking that?” Ryder asks.
“Everything is fine,” the doctor says. “But Kailey has a condition called placenta previa.”
“Is that bad?” Ryder asks.
Suddenly, I’m glad he’s here, that I’m not alone. I thought I was scared before, about being a single mom, but hearing there could be something wrong with my baby . . . Now, I know what real fear is.
“It means the placenta is low in the uterus,” he points to the monitor. “So it’s blocking the cervix. Where the baby will need to come out. It’s early in her pregnancy, so the hope is that it moves before Kailey goes into labor.”
“If it doesn’t?” I ask.
“C-section,” Dr. Myers says.
Ryder looks down at my stomach like he’s imagining them cutting me open. “But Kailey and the baby are alright now?”
“Fine,” he says. “But she needs to be on bed rest until the situation resolves itself.”
“I can’t be on bed rest,” I say, knowing I need to get the hell out of here, put my degree to good use, find a job, get my own place, stop putting my sister out any more than I have to.
“It’s what’s best,” the doctor says, patting my leg. “We don’t want you to start bleeding, or worse.”
“Worse?” Ryder blurts out.
“I don’t anticipate that,” Dr. Myers says, not offering any details. “As long as she rests.”
“Should she be in the hospital?” Ryder asks.
The doctor smiles, a little chuckle escaping. “No. She just needs to avoid stress, lay down as much as possible, and only stand or sit when absolutely necessary. No lifting, no exercise, no walking long distances. No sex.”
No problem! “Basically, I can shower and pee?”
“Pretty much,” Dr. Myers says, wiping my belly. “I’ll give you two a few minutes, then I’ll answer any more questions you have.”
The doctor leaves the room, and I think about how I came into this room—excited to see my baby for the first time and stick it to Ryder for even considering I was lying about him being the father. It never occurred to me that something could be wrong. I mean, I feel fine.
My bottom lip starts to quiver. “The doctor said the baby is fine,” Ryder says with such assurance in his voice. I force out a nod in agreement, biting my bottom lip to stop the tears from falling. “Did you see her little nose?” Ryder asks.
“Her?” I ask.
“Him,” he says with a shrug. “Doesn’t feel right to call our baby it. The doctor said we could find out the sex in a few weeks. Do you want to know?”