Zahara’s eyes closed on a heavy exhale. “Oh my God, that’s such good news.”
“We’ll just get a few X-rays to check for hairline fractures.”
“Oh no,” Zahara said, startled out of her reprieve. “No, I can’t… I don’t want X-rays.”
“Zahara,” Chase said. “You need them.”
The PA tilted her head and offered Zahara a patient smile. “You must have had X-rays before. They’re simple, and they won’t cause you any pain—”
“Uh, sorry, no,” Zahara said, setting her jaw in a way that told Chase she wasn’t budging. “No X-rays.”
The PA lowered the file and assessed Zahara. “If you have a break and you keep working, you’re only going to make it worse.”
“I’m not getting X-rays.” She was acting squirrelly now, glancing out the door and scooting toward the edge of the gurney like she was getting ready to run. “It’s not that bad. I’ve had lots of breaks, and I can tell when I have one,” she rambled as if she were coming apart at the seams. “It’s just sore. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
When she slipped off the gurney, Chase stood. “Baby, hold on. If you don’t get the X-rays, she can’t clear you to go back to work.”
“Why don’t you think on it a few minutes while I find a sling,” the
PA said. “The least we can do is stabilize your shoulder.”
Zahara had her T-shirt over her head before the woman closed the sliding glass door behind her.
“This is not the time to be stubborn, Z,” Chase told her. “You didn’t even tell her about how shitty you’ve been feeling—”
“Because Despina’s doctor said—”
“You’re young, healthy, and stressed. Yeah, I heard that. The least you could do now is get an X-ray. If you have a break, you can’t keep working—"
“Nothing’s broken.”
“You’re not Superwoman, Z, you don’t have X-ray vision.”
“Funny.”
“Why don’t you let the real X-ray machines decide if—”
“Because I’m pregnant,” she yelled, meeting his gaze with fury. In the next instant, her eyes filled with tears, her gaze dropped to the floor, and she choked out a sob. “Because I’m pregnant, okay?”
Chase stared at her, mouth open, working the words around in his head, trying to understand. An ice-cold knife of shock stabbed his stomach. “You’re what?”
She exhaled and wiped at her eyes with her good hand. “I shouldn’t have X-rays unless they’re really necessary. And these aren’t really necessary.”
“Whoa. Wait, wait, wait. Time out.” Chase formed a T with the clipboard and his hand. His stomach jumped and twisted and tumbled. “What in the hell did you just say? I’m sure I heard you wrong.”
“I’m not saying it again.” Zahara held her left arm tight to her side, wrapped the other arm across her middle, and dropped her head into her hand while she paced the small room. “Just the word makes me queasy.”
“Zahara.” He stepped into her path and cast a look over her tight torso and flat belly. She looked just as mouthwatering as she had during their weekend together. “Are you serious right now?”
“I wish I weren’t.” She almost yelled the words, then started pacing again, like an animal in a cage. “I was going to wait to tell you. Dammit. Dammit, everything’s so screwed up. How am I going to work with this arm? I have to work.”
Pregnant. The icy knife in his gut turn hot. Red hot.
Holy mother of God.
While she babbled, Chase tossed around time in his head. He stopped her again, careful not to touch her injured arm. “Zahara, look at me.”
She met his gaze with tears sliding down her cheeks.