Love Me: Oakville Series:Book 5 (4 page)

“I know it’s hard, but don’t worry. No matter what happens, we still have each other and Chase. As long as the three of us are together, we can get through anything,” I tell her as I take her hand in mine. As if on cue, my cell phone rings. Taryn looks at me with hopeful eyes. I fish the phone from my pocket and find the number for the doctor’s office flashing across my screen. My stomach knots. I’m unsure of what I want them to tell me. Of course I hope there’s nothing wrong with me, but if that’s the case, it means there may be something wrong with Taryn. I can handle being the one at fault for us not having a baby. I don’t want her to carry that burden. I don’t want her feeling guilty or blaming herself. Not to mention, the testing for her entails a lot more than just making a deposit in a cup.

I swipe my phone and answer the call. “Hello,” I say, my eyes meeting Taryn’s. She bites the corner of her thumb, her eyes never wavering.

“Mr. Winters. This is Lani from Dr. Regal’s office. I’m calling to give you your test results.”

“Okay.”

“Everything is within normal range. We didn’t find any problems,” she states, and I blow out a breath, both relieved and disappointed at the same time.

“What do we do now?” I ask, and Taryn’s mouth turns down at the corners as her eyes shift away from mine.

“We recommend your wife make an appointment with her OBGYN. They will advise on what tests need to be done from here.” I thank her and hang up. Taryn’s shoulders drop and her gaze shifts to our entwined hands. I gently grip her chin and tilt her head, locking my eyes with hers.

“We’re gonna figure this out, sweetness. I promise. It’s probably nothing to worry about,” I tell her, needing her to really hear me.

“I know. I’m just a little scared. I can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you how?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it, it’s just a feeling I can’t shake,” she says, her eyes filling with tears. I pull her onto my lap and wrap her trembling body in my arms. She’s really worried about something and I’m afraid it’s more than just not being able to get pregnant.

“We’re a team, baby. Anything life throws our way we’ll deal with it,” I tell her, but now I can’t help but wonder if there’s something more I should be worried about.

I
can’t shake this feeling that there’s something wrong with me. We had no problems getting pregnant with Chase and the entire pregnancy was textbook normal. It’s nothing specific, but it’s something…a feeling gnawing in my gut, telling me my body isn’t okay, and I have no one I can talk to about this. I’m afraid the girls will think I’m overreacting and if that is the case, I don’t want to tell Marcus and cause him unnecessary worry. I probably am just being ridiculous. The stress is getting to me and making me crazy.

I pull my car into the lot of my doctor’s office and take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. My phone chirps, alerting me to a new text message. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans before fishing the phone from my purse. A smile crosses my face as I read the text from Marcus.

Marcus: Good luck today, sweetness. Everything will be just fine. I love you.

Oh, how I love that man. He begged me to let him come with me today, but I said no. There isn’t anything he can do. Besides, I think I’d be more nervous with him here. Right now, all they’re doing is typical stuff I’ve had done numerous times—a blood draw and the dreaded pelvic exam. Laying on that table with my legs spread eagle in the stirrups while a doctor has his head and hands all up in my business is not an experience my husband would be too comfortable with.

Most of the appointment goes as I assumed it would. I’m not too overly nervous until it comes time for the pelvic exam. Even though I have one done by the same doctor every year, it’s still nerve wracking and majorly uncomfortable—this one more so than any other because of what could come from it. Being in this noisy paper gown I have to hold closed doesn’t help ease the tension. Every time I make the slightest move, my ass sticks to the paper lining the table and makes a loud crinkling sound, but no matter how noisy it all is, I can’t seem to keep from fidgeting. My legs dangle over the side, swaying back and forth as if I’m on a swing trying to go faster and higher. A small knock on the door alerting me the doctor is on his way in has me sitting straight up and taking a deep, calming breath.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Winters. How are you today?” Dr. Bryant asks with a pleasant smile. He’s a handsome older man with graying hair. Following in behind him is his nurse, Theresa. She’s my favorite out of all the nurses in this office. Never have I seen her without a beaming smile plastered on her face.

I wipe my damp palms on my gown and try to smile. “I’ll be a lot better when this part is over with,” I joke. Both the doctor and Theresa laugh, washing away some of the nervousness.

“It will be over before you know it,” he says as he gets prepared. Theresa helps me get situated on my back and guides my feet into the dreaded stirrups. She pats my arm and gives me a sympathetic smile, letting me know she understands.

“I see here you stated your cycles have been a little off. What do you mean by off?” he questions. Turning away from my chart, he slips his hands into a pair of latex gloves.

“Well, I’ll have it for a couple days like normal, but then a couple days after it stops, it’ll start again. Sometimes I feel like I’m bleeding most of the month.”

“How long has that been going on?” he asks, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“For about two months now,” I answer. He nods his head and begins his exam. With my arms resting at my sides, I stare at the ceiling, hoping this goes quickly. To calm my anxiety, I try to picture myself on the beach. Before I can get too far into my daydream, I notice Dr. Bryant and Theresa speaking in a hushed tone and my heart thunders in my chest. I stare at them, pleading with my eyes for an explanation.

Theresa pulls something from a cabinet in the corner of the room as Dr. Bryant looks up at me, and says, “I’m a little concerned about the way your cervix looks. It’s probably nothing, but just to be sure, I want to take a small biopsy.” I gulp and try to catch my breath. A biopsy? Biopsies usually mean they think cancer is a possibility, but that can’t be it. I get my regular pap smears and exams every year and my last one was only six months ago. I should probably be asking questions, but fear grips my chest like a vise and I can’t form the words. Tears sting my eyes as all the horrible scenarios of what could be wrong flutter through my head.

“Please try not to worry, Mrs. Winters. This could be nothing. We should know for sure in about a week,” Dr. Bryant says in an attempt to ease my panic, and I wish I could say it works, but my head spins and two things keep popping up above the rest: my boys, Marcus and Chase. What will they do if something happens to me? I can’t stand the thought of putting them through one split second of pain. And if I die? They can’t handle that.

An hour and a half later, I’m on my way to KC’s to meet Amber and Holly for lunch. Those two are like sisters. I love when I get a chance to have a little girl time. They can always bring a smile to my face, and right now, I really need that. My mind is still reeling with the fact that I could have cancer. Waiting for the results is going to be torture, but I have to be strong, and try to stay quiet. There’s no point in making anyone, especially Marcus, worry if by some chance this is nothing—and oh how I pray this is nothing.

Walking into KC’s, I spot my girls right away. They’re at our usual booth in the corner. This place is like a home away from home. Kyle, Marcus’ band mate, has turned this into a family place even though it’s a bar and grille. Holly spots me first and begins waving her arm like a crazy woman. It fits. She is a little crazy, but that’s why we love her so damn much. She has fiery red hair with the personality to match. I’ve watched grown men cower when she’s pissed. She is not a woman you want to mess with. She’s a firecracker and doesn’t try to hide it. Amber is a different story. She’s the sweet motherly one in the group with that girl next door look, but when she’s pushed, her claws will come out.

“Hey, bitches,” I sing as I take my seat in the booth. Both of them smile brightly and I do my best to match.

“Hey yourself, bitch,” Holly says. Amber slides a martini glass in front of me and fills it with Appletini from the pitcher. It’s her signature drink. She’s gotten us all hooked on the damned things. I take a long sip of the sweet drink and wait for the inquisition to begin.

“Sooo?” Amber asks, drawing out the word. “How did the appointment go?”

“It was okay. I won’t know anything for about a week, though. The wait is going to be tough,” I tell them before taking another sip of my drink, trying my best not to outright lie. Concerned looks cross my friends’ faces.

“You’re worried,” Holly states, and I’m not sure how to answer her.

“A little. I’m just not sure what is taking us so long to conceive,” I try to explain, fear settling in with every thought I have—not being able to give Chase a sibling, no chance at being pregnant again, treatments, being sick…dying. I shake my head in an attempt to rid the path my brain has taken and plant a smile on my face. Luckily, Amber and Holly sense I need to forget and have some fun. Holly picks up her phone and makes a call. By the wide smile that crosses her face when the voice on the other end answers, I know she called Paul. That’s the same smile I get when I talk to or see Marcus—I’d recognize it anywhere.

“Hey there, baby. Call Kyle and Marcus and y’all come down here and hang out with your women,” she demands. Poor Paul doesn’t even have a chance to respond before Holly hangs up. She sips her Appletini. “I know we enjoy our girl time, but I miss my man and by the looks of it, y’all do too,” she states, smiling proudly, and she’s absolutely right. As much as I love spending time with these two, it’s even more fun with our men.

It doesn’t take long for them to show up. With my back to the door, I can feel him the moment he walks into the bar. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up and my heart begins to race. When his arms wrap tightly around me from behind, I melt into him.

“Hey there, sweetness,” he whispers in my ear. Goose bumps spread throughout my body when his warm breath caresses my ear. “Miss me?”

“You know I did,” I reply, running my hands along his muscled, tattooed arms. He’s gotten a lot more ink over the last year and I love it. It’s sexy and makes me want to run my tongue over them one by one.

“The tats are making ya all hot and bothered again, aren’t they?” He chuckles, knowing what they do to me. I swear that’s why he keeps getting them, not that he’ll admit to it.

“You know it,” I confess, not one bit embarrassed he knows I’m ogling the shit out of his fucktastic tats. Just one of the perks of being married to this smoking hot man.

We spend the next few hours laughing and drinking. This is exactly what I needed. Not once have I worried about what the doctors will or won’t find. Right here, right now, with my favorite people, my heart is full and my head is worry free.