Page 68 of Off Limits Daddy

God.

What if?

The thought clung to my brain, and no amount of reasoning with myself made it go away. Finally, I decided I needed to see a doctor. Not for a pregnancy test, but to find out what was really wrong. Missing a period and being tired could be symptoms of something else. Something even more serious.

One of the perks of living in a big city like Boston was walk-in women's clinics. I found one online that was nowhere near the FBI office. No sense in having someone I worked with find me making an impromptu visit to a gynecologist.

I had to wait, but that was okay. My mind wasn't good for anything except ruminating.

When I was called in, I let the nurse know my symptoms, downplaying the period and highlighting that I was on the pill. She had me pee in a cup and then I waited.

Sitting in the clinic room waiting for results felt like an eternity. It was like the longer I had to wait, the more likely I was pregnant, which was stupid. But my brain had been in crazy town for most of the week.

The door opened and the doctor walked in. I'm sure she meant her expression to be impassive, but I knew. Even without her saying a word, I knew my world was about to tilt on its axis.

"You're pregnant," she confirmed gently.

Pregnant.

The word hit me like a tidal wave, washing away all my carefully laid plans. This wasn't supposed to happen—not to me. My career was everything. It was who I was.

Emotions crashed through me—panic, fear, disbelief. It was like watching someone else's life implode.

"I take it this isn't planned."

I shook my head and let out an uneasy laugh. "No. Not even close."

"Based on the date of your last period, you're only a few weeks pregnant."

Few weeks. God. Did it happen in the sauna? No. Duncan wore a condom. So it had to be right before New Year’s.

"There must be something wrong. I had sex maybe three weeks ago. Before, he wore a condom and I'm on the pill. How is this possible?"

"The test can detect a pregnancy this early. Talking about the when and how isn't very helpful at this point."

"Right. Sort of like trying to put the horse back in the barn. What's done is done."

She nodded. "But you have options."

Options? "Like adoption or something?" I knew what she meant but couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Yes, or?—"

"I just needed to know what was going on. I can take it from here."

"Well, that depends. If you decide to have the baby, whether you choose adoption or to raise it, you need to start taking prenatal vitamins and eating right. You should avoid alcohol and drugs."

And probably the type of violence that sometimes an FBI agent was involved in.

"I understand." I left the clinic in a haze. What was I going to do? What would Duncan say? Sure, the guy wanted to be a dad, but not like this. Not by knocking up the woman he was having a short-term affair with.

I knew I needed to tell Duncan, but I wasn't going to let him or this child undermine what I'd been working so hard for. I knew that was selfish. This poor kid didn't ask for a mother who had other goals. I knew what it was like to be raised by a mother who didn't have time. Most would argue that I came out okay, but not without resentments. Not without feeling like I'd missed out on so much of my childhood and teen years. I didn't want my child to feel like that.

God. What a mess. All because I couldn't control my desire for Duncan.

20

Duncan