Chapter 2
I wanted to run, truly I did.
But I was in active labor and almost fully dilated, with my water still leaking and a pain in my belly that felt like firecrackers going off inside.
Where could I go?
The nurse still stood beside me, pressing my shoulder with an innocent look. "Hang in there, dear. We're almost done."
It was over, completely over. In all my twenty-eight years, I had never been so thoroughly humiliated.
There I lay on the operating table, legs spread, water still leaking, and facing the father of my child with no escape in sight.
I took a deep breath and told myself to stay calm. I could still salvage this.
Whether this baby was his or not depended entirely on how convincingly I could deny it.
I was the queen of stubbornness. Half the beatings I got as a kid were because I'd rather take a hit than admit I was wrong.
Today, even if I dropped dead right here on this operating table, I still wouldn't admit this baby was Henry Carter's.
"Dr. Carter," I said, putting on my best poker face. "You wanna know how many months along I am?
"Eight months.
"Are you concerned about my health? Thank you, but there is no need. The baby's dad takes good care of me."
Henry paused for a moment as he prepared the anesthesia needle, which gleamed under the light.
I suddenly regretted being so stubborn.
Would he give me extra medication and make me lose my mind?
"The baby's dad?" Henry's voice was flat. "Who is it?"
"It's someone you don't know," Sophie replied.
"So you got pregnant by some guy I've never met, less than a month after we broke up?"
I thought he was playing the numbers game, and I decided to play along.
"So what if it's only been a month since we broke up?" I bluffed, making stuff up as I went. "It's the modern world, people date whoever they want. Come on, I'm Sophie Lane, and I had suitors lining up the moment we broke up."
Henry stared at me, his expression totally blank, but after three years together, I could tell he was holding back his frustration.
He set down what he was holding and turned to the nurse. "Could you pull up the patient's chart?"
My heart skipped a beat. The chart? What had I written on it? Wait.
Who was my emergency contact...
The nurse, Lucy, had already handed over the tablet.
Henry glanced down at it.
When he looked up at me again, that smile of his got wider.
"Sophie," he said.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Your emergency contact was Henry Carter. And the relationship is listed as ex-boyfriend."
Wait, what? I snatched the tablet from him and saw the words in black and white: Emergency Contact: Henry Carter, Relationship: Ex-boyfriend, Phone Number: (555) 139-8866. Then I remembered.
Three months ago, when I was filling out the forms, the nurse asked who my emergency contact was. I hesitated for a long time, thinking that if something really happened, someone would need to handle it.
At the time, I had assumed he'd never actually be notified; it was just paperwork, a formality.
How was I supposed to know he would actually show up in person?
"Uh, this is," I stammered, my brain scrambling for an excuse. "It's a system error."
"A system error?" Henry echoed, deadpan, clearly not buying it.
"Yeah, probably some old information that was never deleted."
"The date on the form is three months ago," Henry said, tapping the screen. "So three months ago, you still had me listed as your emergency contact. But now the baby's father is supposedly someone else, huh?
"Interesting."
Lucy's eyes were practically sparkling with excitement.
She kept glancing between me and Henry, her expression clearly saying that she was witnessing major drama.
I seriously wanted to go back in time and strangle my past self.
I decided to give up and said, "Henry, can you be professional for once? Seriously, I'm about to pop here."
"I am being professional," Henry replied, wheeling the anesthesia cart over. "Turn on your side."
His voice slipped right back into that cold, clinical tone.
But as I turned, he leaned in and whispered close to my ear, "Sophie, after you've had the baby, we'll settle this slowly."
A cold shiver ran up my spine and hit me right at the top of my head.
"I know exactly what you're thinking," Henry said, his gloved finger tapping my lower back as he prepped for the injection. "I won't let my personal feelings affect the surgery.
"But don't think about making a run for it once the baby's out."
"Run? Me? Never," I shot back, trying to sound tough.
"You're already scheming how to make your escape as soon as the anesthesia wears off."
Having my thoughts exposed like this was suffocating.
Eight months since we broke up, how could he still know me so well? Damn it.
As the needle pierced my spine, I bit down hard on my lip.
Everything below my waist started to go numb.
The pain in my legs faded.
The heaviness in my belly lingered, but the pain vanished.
"Alright," Henry said, standing up and swapping out his gloves for a fresh pair. "The anesthesia's set. We're good to go."
At this moment, William Foster, the head of obstetrics, walked in. "Ready to go? Oh, Henry, you're on duty today?"
Henry nodded.
William came over, looked down at me for a moment, and said, "Sophie, right? Relax, it'll all be over soon."
Then he turned to Henry. "Do you know the patient?"
Henry shot me a look.
I frantically signaled to him with my eyes, indicating that we did not know each other.
"I know her," Henry said.
My heart sank.
"The baby's mine."
The whole room went dead silent.
William's hand froze mid-air.
Lucy's mouth formed a perfect O.
The other nurse almost dropped her clipboard right then and there.