BOSSY: A Virgin CEO Romance

Fortunately, the man gets a clear picture and spends a few minutes looking at the screen, not uttering a word. I can’t even discern where the baby is, so I know nothing more when the man leaves to ge

t the obstetrician.

The wait is interminable, though Dr. Anderson can’t have taken more than five minutes to arrive. Without speaking, she also performs an ultrasound. Harper studies the doctor’s face, but her expression is impassive.

Finally, Dr. Anderson puts away the probe and scoots the stool closer. “I’m sorry, Harper, but the baby stopped growing a couple of weeks ago.”

She shakes her head. “No. I still feel pregnant. I’ve had morning sickness, afternoon sickness, and fatigue.”

Dr. Anderson seems genuinely sad. “The baby is gone. Your body just doesn’t know it yet.”

I take her hand when the doctor finishes speaking. “What happens now?” I ask.

“I can admit you to the hospital overnight for a D and C in the morning, or you can take medication at home to induce the miscarriage.”

“No. I couldn’t bear the thought of that. I don’t want to have to know, have to feel it.” I understand.

“Okay.” Dr. Anderson makes a notation on the computer before turning to me. “We’ll do the procedure around nine in the morning, and you should be able to pick her up by two.”

My mouth tenses. “I’m not leaving her.”

She doesn’t try to argue with me. “I’ll get you two into a room as quickly as possible.”

Late the next afternoon, Harper clings to my arm as I lead her into the apartment building from the parking garage. The anesthetic has left her woozy, but it hasn’t dulled the emotional pain. Tears are intermittently streaming down her face. The elevator ferries us to our floor, and I open the door with my key rather than waiting for a maid to open it.

As she crosses the threshold, tears slip from her eyes. “It’s unbelievable that I was pregnant the last time I stood here.” The tears intensify.

I don’t try to get her to stop crying—I merely lift her, carrying her to our room. Putting her down briefly, I open the door before taking her to my bed. Harper curls into a ball of misery, curving into me when I lie beside her, holding her as she weeps.

As she lets out her grief, Harper looks at me, I’m sure seeing the tears on my cheeks too. She cries harder, and I hold her tighter.

15

Harper

During the next few days, Jayson seems to throw himself into the task of distracting me from the loss. When I’m physically recovered, he takes me to all my favorite places. The Museum of Modern Art fills one entire day, a visit to the New York Botanical Garden another.

The distractions do help take my mind off the miscarriage, but do nothing to help me with the dilemma of loving my husband. Loving Jayson without being able to trust him is almost as painful as losing the baby that bound us together. Jayson is so sweet and protective, hiding his own hurt to help me cope, that it’s proving impossible not to fall even more deeply in love with him.

Over lunch at Nobu, I can’t stop staring at him. He carries on the conversation easily, but the dark rings under his eyes speak of sleep deprivation, and the lines around his mouth hint at the sadness still clinging to him.

Impulsively, I put my hand over his. “Thank you.”

He quirks a brow. “For what?”

“You’ve made it your personal mission to distract me from thinking about… the loss. I know it must have been hell to rearrange your schedule so you could take more time off so soon after the vacation.”

Jayson frowns. “I have no idea. I told my assistant to cancel everything. It might have been difficult for him, but I don’t care. You’re my first priority.”

A surge of warmth melts my heart. The tears I managed to suppress that day threaten to fall. I blink them back, determined to comfort Jayson now. “I can imagine it’s been difficult for you to suppress your emotions in order to see to my needs.” My voice softens. “I know you wanted the baby very much.”

He pales slightly. “Yes.” Jayson clears his throat, but his voice still sounds thick. “I wanted a little girl who looked just like you.”

My lips tremble with the effort to hold the tears in check. “That’s funny.”

Jayson frowns. “Why?”

“I wanted a little boy with your features.” I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from crying, unable to tell him the idea had lurked in the back of my mind that if our son looked like Jayson, I would always have something to remember him by after the marriage dissolved.