They all let me escape to my room without another word.
“How fucking dare they,” I shout, slamming my door.
Plopping down on my bed, I snatch the ultrasound photos off my nightstand. My anger abates at the sight of them. The photo from my first appointment that went missing the day we moved back is still unaccounted for.
Memories of my first visit to the doctor’s office flood my mind as I lay down. Dr. Jaffri confirmed what I already knew to be true. I was pregnant, but I couldn’t understand how. I had the implant and religiously made sure they all used condoms. Are there statistical anomalies?
Sure. But there’d need to be a perfect storm to be that protected and still get knocked up. Dr. Jaffri answered one part of the question during that visit. I had no implant in my arm. But it wasn’t until the second appointment that I gained clarity on how truly fucked my situation was.
We’d been in Bronston for almost five weeks, and the ache in my chest hadn’t dulled. I was still questioning my abrupt departure from Calloway. It was necessary. However, it didn’t change the turmoil that raged inside me since leaving.
Dad was so worried, constantly reminding me that I could talk to him and reassuring me it would all be okay in the end. The earnest plea in his eyes almost made me cave that day. I knew I could talk to him. He’d always been my safe place, but at that time, it felt like a journey I needed to do alone. I needed to process and come to terms with all the changes in my life over the last two years.
Dread filled my stomach as I climbed out of the backseat of the SUV that day. I was so conflicted. Anger and betrayal fought against joy and hope. I was too damn young to have anyone’s baby, but part of one of the guys was growing inside me.
“We can always do this at the house,” Dad offers.
I inhale a centering breath before I respond. “No, I’m not being forced to stay in the house when you said the threat is low here.” Then, we enter the building of the upscale office complex.
Reign and Elias step from the elevator, making eye contact with Dad and Fernando. “Everything’s clear, Mr. Bradford,” Reign states, and I roll my eyes. It’s like having annoying-ass older brothers.
“Thanks, guys,” Dad says as we step into the elevator they just vacated.
“Kiss asses,” I mumble under my breath, earning a chuckle from Dad.
Reign leans forward just as the door chimes, signaling we’ve reached our destination. “You’re just jealous,” he teases, and I elbow him.
“Of your ugly mug? Never,” I giggle, appreciating the momentary reprieve from my intrusive thoughts.
However, the arrival at the office door harshly reminds me how real this fucking is.
“Miss Bradford. Welcome,” the woman at the front desk greets, standing and motioning for me to head for the back. “She’s ready for you.”
Dad grabs my hand, halting me. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him with a soft smile, then turn and follow the receptionist to the back.
She’s all teeth and cheers as we walk down the corridor. “This must be such an exciting time! So much planning and getting things in order.”
I listen as she yammers on, and I want to be annoyed with her happiness for me, but she’s not aware of how difficult being here is. So I nod along until she seats me and tells me I’ll be seen shortly.
Once the door closes, I slump back in the chair and try to massage away the stress. “It’s not even nine in the morning, and I already want this day to be fucking over,” I grumble as the door opens.
“Ah, Miss Bradford, a pleasure to see you again. Are you ready to discuss a few things?” Dr. Janan Jaffri asks as she sits across from me.
I shift in my seat and square my shoulders.”Were you able to find out how this happened?”
Concern lines her face, and I can feel the panic growing like a creeper vine up my legs. The confidence I felt moments ago evaporates, and I start rubbing at the skin of my inner wrist.
“It’s as I suspected,” she states.
It’s one thing to suspect someone did this on purpose. It’s a whole different level to have those suspicions confirmed. My panic turns to ash as fury blazes in its place. “So, I was never given the birth control implant?” I ask for clarity. Part of me is hoping if I ask, her response will be different.
“There is no record of it,” she reiterates, and I grind my molars.
“Then what did that doctor put in my arm?” I ask through clenched teeth, trying to remember that Dr. Jaffri isn’t the cause of this.
She opens the folder on her desk and turns it to face me. “It was a fertility boost cocktail.” She points to my lab work and continues, “You see this line here? This is essentially a prenatal vitamin on steroids. You were given a super dose of Folic Acid, B12, and B6, as well as Vitamins C and D. That alone would be perplexing to give a healthy teenage girl. But the injection of Gonadotropins confirmed that there was no way they would give you a fertility drug to boost egg production with an implant. It’s counterintuitive.”
My stomach churns at that revelation, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the news she’s just relayed or because I’m fucking pregnant. I spring from my seat and bolt through the door for the bathroom down the hall. I barely reach the toilet before whatever smoothie I drank this morning empties into the porcelain bowl. All the while, one word is on repeat in my brain. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. It’s playing on a loop like an annoying nursery rhyme.
The bathroom door bursts open, but I don’t look to see who’s joined me. I already know. “I’m okay, Dad. Just give me a second.”
I hear his footsteps click against the tiled floor and the sound of a faucet turning on before he’s back at my side, helping me stand and wiping my face. “Ry, I know you’re strong and want to do this alone, but you don’t have to.”
The tears that were building in my eyes rolled down my face. Their salty taste makes my stomach lurch, but luckily, nothing threatens to come up.
“Why would someone do this, Dad?” I sob, and he pulls me into his chest. The familiar woodsy scent reminds me of him when I was little, and I would run to him when I was upset.
“I’m sorry, Ry. I wish I could’ve protected you more,” he whispers into my hair, and the trickle of tears turns into a steady stream.
The question is protected from who? My brain works overtime at the thought that my father and the other Council members had a hand in this.
Pushing from his embrace, I levy my accusation. “Was it you? Did you and this fucked up organization do this to me?”
Guilt gnaws at me at the sight of hurt in his face before he masks it. “No,” he sighed. “I won’t pretend we don’t have plans and that by choosing Samantha, the boys have fucked them up.”
An invisible dagger slices through my heart, right to the core of me, at the mention of that goddamn day. I’ve spent weeks replaying every situation. . . every moment spent with them, analyzed. How could I have been so fucking blind?
Sensing the change, my dad curses, recognizing his mistake immediately. “Dammit, Ry. I’m sorry. I feel like a goddamn broken record, but I don’t think I have the right words.”
A light knock at the door reminds me that we’re still at Dr. Jaffri’s office, and I need to finish this appointment. “Miss Bradford. The doctor sent me to check on you,” the receptionist’s voice sounds through the door.
“We can talk more later. Let’s get you seen,” Dad says, coaxing me from the stall.
Once my mouth is rinsed and I have a piece of gum, I’m brought to the examining room. An ultrasound machine sits next to the exam table. I climb up and wait while my father sits in one of the chairs. Our eyes connect, and I mouth ‘thank you’ as Dr. Jaffri walks in.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.