My subconscious is shaking her head at me. Fifty doesn’t joke about my safety—I should know this by now. I want to roll my eyes at him, but I refrain.
Okay, I’m tired and testy. I had a long day yesterday and not enough sleep. Why, oh why does he get to look as fresh as a daisy? Life is not fair.
There’s a knock at the door.
«That’ll be the good doctor,” Christian grumbles, obviously still smarting from my irony. He stalks from the table.
Can’t we just have a calm, normal morning? I sigh heavily, leaving half my breakfast, and get up to greet Doctor Depo–Provera.
We’re in the bedroom, and Dr. Greene is staring at me open–mouthed. She’s dressed more casually than last time in a pale pink cashmere twin set and black pants, and her fine blond hair is loose.
«And you just stopped taking it? Just like that?»
I flush, feeling beyond foolish.
«Yes.» Could my voice be any smaller?
«You could be pregnant,” she says matter–of–factly.
What! The world falls away at my feet. My subconscious collapses on the floor retching, and I think I’m going to be sick, too. No!
«Here, go pee in this.» She’s all business today—taking no prisoners.
Meekly, I accept the small plastic container she’s offered and wander in a daze into the bathroom. No. No. No. No way… No way… Please no. No.
What will Fifty do? I go pale. He’ll freak.
No, please! I whisper a silent prayer.
I hand Dr. Greene my sample, and she carefully places a small white stick in it.
«When did your period start?»
How am I supposed to think about such minutiae when all I can do is stare anxiously at the white stick?
«Er… Wednesday? Not the one just gone, the one before that. June first.»
«And when did you stop taking the pill?»
«Sunday. Last Sunday.»
She purses her lips.
«You should be okay,” she says sharply. «I can tell by your expression that an unplanned pregnancy would not be welcome news. So Medroxyprogesterone is a good idea if you can’t remember to take the pill every day.» She gives me a stern look, and I quail under her authoritative glare. Picking up the white stick, she peers at it.
«You’re in the clear. You’ve not ovulated yet, so provided you’ve been taking proper precautions, you shouldn’t be pregnant. Now, let me counsel you about this shot. We discounted it last time because of the side effects, but quite frankly, the side effects of a child are far–reaching and go on for years.» She smiles, pleased with herself and her little joke, but I can’t begin to respond—I’m too stunned.
Dr. Greene launches into full disclosure mode about side effects, and I sit paralyzed with relief, not listening to a word. I think I’d tolerate any number of strange women standing at the end of my bed rather than confess to Christian that I might be pregnant.
«Ana!» Dr. Greene snaps. «Let’s do this thing.» She pulls me out of my reverie, and I willingly roll up my sleeve.
Christian closes the door behind her and gazes at me warily. «Everything okay?» he asks.
I nod mutely, and he tilts his head to one side, his face tense with concern.
«Anastasia, what is it? What did Dr. Greene say?»
I shake my head. «You’re good to go in seven days,” I mutter.
«Seven days?»
«Yes.»
«Ana, what’s wrong?»
I swallow. «It’s nothing to worry about. Please, Christian, just leave it.»
Christian looms in front of me. He grasps my chin, tipping my head back, and stares emphatically into my eyes, trying to decipher my panic.
«Tell me,” he snaps insistently.
«There’s nothing to tell. I’d like to get dressed.» I pull my chin out of his reach.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, frowning at me. «Let’s shower,” he says eventually.
«Of course,” I mutter, distracted, and his mouth twists.
«Come,” he says sulkily, clasping my hand firmly. He stalks toward the bathroom as I trail behind him. I am not the only one in a bad mood, it seems. Firing up the shower, Christian quickly strips before turning to me.
«I don’t know what’s upset you, or if you’re just bad–tempered through lack of sleep,” he says while unfastening my robe. «But I want you to tell me. My imagination is running away with me, and I don’t like it.»
I roll my eyes at him, and he glares back at me, narrowing his eyes. Shit! Okay… here goes.
«Dr. Greene scolded me about missing the pill. She said I could be pregnant.»
«What?» He pales, and his hands freeze as he gazes at me, suddenly ashen.
«But I’m not. She did a test. It was a shock, that’s all. I can’t believe I was that stupid.»
He visibly relaxes. «You’re sure you’re not?»
«Yes.»
He blows out a deep breath. «Good. Yes, I can see that news like that would be very upsetting.»
I frown…. upsetting? «I was more worried about your reaction.»
He furrows his brow at me, puzzled. «My reaction? Well, naturally I’m relieved… it would be the height of carelessness and bad manners to knock you up.»
«Then maybe we should abstain,” I snap.
He gazes at me for a moment, bewildered, as if I’m some kind of science experiment. «You are in a bad temper this morning.»
«It was just a shock, that’s all,” I repeat petulantly.
