Chapter 18
brONSON
When I woke up this morning, I felt awful.
It was like back in my wild college days when I’d been drinking all weekend, hadn’t touched a glass of water in days, and was running on two hours of sleep.
Back then, I deserved to feel this way because I’d done all of those things, but now?
Not so much. I’d gone to bed early. I’d eaten a normal dinner.
I’d had no alcohol at all. There was absolutely no reason for me to feel this way.
Didn’t make my body hurt any less.
My mate was already up, and I couldn’t get my ass out of bed no matter how hard I tried. There was no way I was making it to work on time, if at all.
Lincoln came back to the bedroom, a towel tied low on his waist, having just come out of the shower. “Your turn.”
“I’m going to sleep a bit more,” I said.
“Don’t you have to be to work?”
“I’m gonna use PTO.”
He crossed over to me and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Are you sick?”
“Just tired, I think.” I was less sure of that by the minute, but the last thing I wanted to do was to upset my mate.
“I’ll stay home, take care of you.”
“No, silly alpha. I’m just gonna sleep a couple more hours and probably head into work a bit late. No big deal.”
Somehow that convinced him, which was good, because I did need the sleep. Only when I woke up, my stomach decided to revolt. It was near one o’clock in the afternoon, well past what I normally considered sleeping in.
“Well, this isn’t any good.” I was calling it… I was sick.
I brushed my teeth and cleaned up as best I could before heading to the walk-in clinic. If I had something contagious, I definitely did not want to give it to my mate.
The intake nurse was nice, taking my vitals and assuring me that I did not have a fever, which I hadn’t been so sure about after the incident worshiping the porcelain gods.
They told me the doctor would be in soon.
They didn’t seem as worried as I was, but then again, their job was to keep patients calm and happy.
The doctor came in a few minutes later. “So, what brings you in today?”
“I feel hungover.” It was the best description I could come up with, but the second he responded, I saw my mistake.
“Is that unusual when you drink?”
“It’s unusual I would drink enough to feel this way, but back in my college days, yeah, this happened a time or five.” It was hard to believe that once upon a time I would do that. It was so different from the life I currently led.
“How much did you drink last night?”
“That’s the thing. Nothing.” I couldn’t be mad at him for jumping to that conclusion because I pretty much led him straight to it. If I were able to think more clearly, I’d have approached the entire conversation differently, but as it was, keeping my head up was taking most of my energy.
“Okay. I’m going to do a couple of tests, and we’ll go from there. I see that you’re wearing a ring. Does that mean there’s a possibility you’re pregnant?”
Could I be? I hadn’t considered that. But if this was what pregnancy felt like, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle it.
“I’m not doing anything to prevent pregnancy, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Why don’t we start with that?”
“Pregnancy makes you feel like death?”
“Not usually.” Which wasn’t a no. “Here, go and pee in here, and then come back, and I’ll have the nurse come in and draw some labs.”
One test became two became four. I didn’t even pay attention to what the rest of the tests were because I had the results of my pee test within minutes. I was pregnant. Lincoln and I were going to be dads.
I was thrilled and wanted to call my mate, but also terrified because of the way the doctors were acting.
My physical side effects of pregnancy were not normal.
Not only that, they were horrible. I wanted to crawl into bed and wish for the goddess to come and get me.
Maybe it wasn’t quite that bad and I was being dramatic, but it was bad.
“Well, congratulations again on your pregnancy,” the doctor said. “Based on your levels, it’s probably only four weeks, which is really early to know. And it looks like it’s a coincidence that you feel like, quote, ‘death.’”
“What do you mean, a coincidence?” Please let it mean the death vibes were not pregnancy related and easily cured.
“Well, all of the ‘bad’ things we tested for were negative. The only thing the tests indicate is that you are severely dehydrated, and that’s an easy fix.
It made you tired, your head hurt, and most everything that felt like being hungover.
Everything except for possibly being sick to your stomach. ”
“How did that happen? The dehydration, I mean.”
“It could be a mixture of many variables, including stress. Are you under a lot of stress lately?”
“No, my life’s actually better than it’s been in a long time.” I was happier now than I’d ever been. Having Lincoln made each day brighter.
“Did you drink a lot of water yesterday? Or a normal amount?”
I had to think on that. “I’m sure I did?”
“You’re sure you did, or you maybe did?”
“I don’t remember. It’s not something I pay attention to. If I’m thirsty, I drink.”
“From now on, make sure you drink frequently. You don’t want this happening again.” Wasn’t that the truth. “Did you have an excess of physical activity yesterday, possibly?”
“No.”
“Were you sweating a lot?” He wasn’t dropping it, which was good. It meant I wasn’t just a random number to him.
“A little, I guess. It was Give Back Day at work, so we were doing some community service, and I was helping in an attic with no air-conditioning. Why didn’t I remember that from the beginning?” I kept getting in my own way.
“Probably because you feel like death,” he teased, but in a way that had me relaxing, not feeling attacked.
“What I’m going to give you is a list of recommendations, including some electrolyte drinks to start with.
I’m also going to give you some IV fluid to jump-start things, and then I need you to take it easy. No more attic rummaging.”
Getting the IV fluids was like night and day. The feeling of my body being rehydrated was such quick relief. I no longer felt like death. I had a slight headache, and my stomach still wasn’t great, but he had said that could be part of the pregnancy.
In any case, I was definitely going to take his advice and drink a lot, take my vitamins, and avoid activities like I’d been doing in the attic. Anything to avoid feeling like this again and harming my baby.
When I got home, it was already near dinnertime, which was good because it meant Lincoln would be back soon.
I couldn’t wait to tell him the news. I hated that I’d kept it from him this long, but I wanted to make sure everything was okay before calling him.
And it wasn’t really the kind of information you delivered over the phone.
I sent him a quick text. Can you grab something quick to eat on your way? Just got in now.
Sure. Preferences?
No. I instantly regretted my response, soup suddenly sounding like the best idea, ever. I mean wonton soup.
Wonton soup it is.
I had the table ready for when he got there. I started to unpack the bag of food as I cleaned up. I wanted to fling myself at him and tell him about our child, but also, I wanted it to be more special than that.
“Something smells different,” he said when he walked back in.
“It looks the same.” Lincoln had picked up all our favorites.
“No,” he said, coming up behind me and hugging me. “Something smells different with you.” He rested his hands on my belly. “Are you pregnant?”
So much for me having to worry about a fancy way to tell him, which was good. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep the great news in any longer than I already had.
“Yeah,” I said, turning in his arms. “I am. I went to the doctor today because I did not feel right, and it turned out I was just dehydrated… with a bonus of pregnancy.”
“You should’ve called me.”
“Can you save telling me all the ways I was wrong until after we celebrate? We’re celebrating, right?”
“Oh, yeah, we’re celebrating.” He kissed me, and I found myself getting lost in it. And then he pulled back, holding my face in his hands, his smile warm and joyful. “I couldn’t be happier that you’re carrying our child, but don’t blame me for worrying about you first.”
He wasn’t mad at me, he was worried that I was sick. I needed to be better about keeping Lincoln informed. He would do the same for me.
I nipped at his bottom lip. “I’d feel the same if it was you.”
“We’re gonna have a baby.” He rubbed his cheek against mine.
“We are. And I hope they turn out to be just like you, alpha mine.”
“I was just hoping for a mini you, Bronson. I love you, mate.”
“I love you.” I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his. It was over an hour later that we finally got to our dinner.