Worth Every Cent (Worth It 2)

“A sense of humor. I like it,” he said. “They’re having a sale on their beef and chicken bones today.”

“Why would you want just the bones?”

“To make stock. Some of the best nutrients that can come from meat isn’t actually in the meat itself, but in the marrow of the bones of the animal.”

“You really are full of facts, aren’t you?” I asked.

“I make up regular batches, then freeze the contents. They make great soup bases, but they’re also good on their own. Especially when flu season comes around.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that. Every single year, whether I get vaccinated or not, I get—”

The room tilted as quickly as I’d ever experienced it and my vision tunneled.

“Michelle, are you okay?”

Dr. Luke’s voice sounded far away as I stumbled on my feet.

“Michelle, can you hear me?”

I felt his hand come down onto my arm as I whipped my head up. But the movement was a mistake. Before I could catch myself, I ran over to the nearest trash can and dipped my head into it. My stomach lurched, the world corrected, and all of the contents from the breakfast I’d made for Gray and I that morning came tumbling out of my stomach. I leaned over and wretched in the middle of the butcher’s shop with Dr. Luke holding my hair back. Tears streamed down my face and my stomach continued to lurch until I had nothing left to give.

“Oh my gosh,” I said between heaves. “I’m so—sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Luke said. “Get it up.”

I panted with the exertion until my stomach stopped dancing inside my body. Then, the headache came on. A pounding, unrelenting headache that shook my vision. I felt something being held to my lips and opened my mouth as Dr. Luke tilted my head off to the side. I guzzled the water down, hearing the butcher talk behind me before I felt myself being moved.

Dr. Luke shuffled me off to a corner while the butcher took the trash can out back.

“When are you due?” he asked.

I furrowed my brow as he sat me down into a chair.

“What?” I asked.

“When are you due? You can’t be that far along. Maybe two months at the most. I’m wondering because I haven’t seen you in my office yet, despite your promise to come see me.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she said.

“You are. And if this is news to you, then you really need to come see me.”

“Dr. Luke, I’m not pregnant. I can’t— I can’t be pregnant.”

I looked up into his soft, kind eyes, but I knew he wasn’t joking around with me. His eyes might’ve been calm and collected, but his stare and his stern lips were insistent.

“I’ve delivered my fair share of children, Michelle. I’ve taken care of my fair share of pregnant women, including my wife with our five kids. I know when a woman’s pregnant, and not simply because of my profession. It’s a sixth sense at this point for me.”

“But I’m on birth control. Regularly,” I said.

Dr. Luke chuckled to himself before sitting down next to me.

“Birth control isn’t foolproof,” he said. “The most popular form? The pill? Only ninety seven percent effective if taken at the same exactly moment every single day. But if even one is missed? Or off by an hour or two? That effectiveness drops to seventy two percent.”

“What?” I asked flatly.

“Yeah. And don’t get me started on the shot. That one’s even worse.”

I looked down at the bottle of water in my hands as my mind came to a grinding halt.