Chapter 3
Days passed.
I threw myself into a new gene-editing project, and staying up late was part of the routine.
One night, I was so focused on a crucial stage of the experiment that I skipped dinner without even realizing it.
When I came home exhausted at 1 AM, I was suddenly hit with a sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach.
My vision went black for a second, and I nearly collapsed right there in the entryway.
I leaned against the wall for support, struggling to make it to the kitchen for some hot water.
Just then, the master bedroom door swung open.
Jayden stood there in dark gray silk pajamas, his brows knit tight as he stared at me.
"What's wrong?" His voice was rough, tinged with concern.
"Nothing. Old issue. Stomach pain." I was pale. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
Without saying a word, Jayden strode over and scooped me up in a bridal carry.
I let out a startled cry, instinctively clinging to his neck.
His arms were broad and warm, and through the thin silk of his pajamas, I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
"What are you doing? Put me down." I was flustered.
But Jayden ignored me. He carried me straight into the master bedroom and gently lay me down on his big bed. "Don't move."
He left without another word.
Soon, he returned with a cup of warm milk and a heating pad.
He tucked the heating pad against me, then helped me sit up and held the cup to my lips. "Drink." His tone brooked no argument.
I stared at him, dazed, sipping the milk slowly as he told me.
The stabbing pain in my stomach started to fade as the warmth settled in.
Seeing that I was looking better, Jayden headed to the closet and tossed me a set of his pajamas. "Put these on, go shower, then get some rest."
I started, "I..."
"No arguments." He cut me off. "Your body isn't only yours. It affects your research. If you collapse, the academy takes a major hit."
That same clinical tone again.
But for some reason, hearing it sent a strange, unnameable ripple through me.
This was the first time we'd been this physically close since getting married.
That clean, crisp scent of him, the warmth of his embrace, gave me a feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time. Safety.
That night, for reasons I couldn't explain, I didn't return to the guest room.
I slept soundly in his bed, surrounded by his scent.
When I woke up the next morning, Jayden was already gone.
On the nightstand sat a warm breakfast and a handwritten note: [Make sure you eat.]
His handwriting was crisp and precise, exactly like him.
Something tapped gently against my heart.
*****
Ever since that stomachache, my body felt off.
I was constantly exhausted, and the smell of lab chemicals made me nauseous.
I figured it was from pulling too many all-nighters that my stomach was shot.
Jayden was more anxious than I was. He laid down the law, ordering me to cut back my hours and rest.
Ruby found out too and called specifically to tell me I needed a full physical. "Yara, you're my best researcher. I don't want you dropping dead on me."
She was as blunt as always.
I couldn't argue with them, so I made an appointment with Owen Reed, the OB-GYN specialist.
Owen was an old acquaintance. Seven years ago, he was the one who had handed me that infertility diagnosis.
In the ultrasound room, the cold gel on my lower abdomen made me shiver.
Owen operated the machine while making small talk. "How have you been lately? Is your stomach feeling any better?"
"Same as before. No appetite, always tired." I replied weakly.
Owen nodded, his eyes locked on the screen.
Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.
His expression shifted from relaxed to grave, then from grave to stunned.
He removed his glasses, leaned in close to the monitor, and studied it carefully, muttering to himself, "That can't be right. This is impossible."
My heart jumped into my throat. "Dr. Reed, what is it? Is something seriously wrong?"
Could it be a uterine tumor?