The Carrero Solution (Carrero Book 3)
Chapter 19

The doctor isn’t fazed at all. She starts sliding her tools back into her open case, smoothing down her jacket, in

a show of control and poise that PA Emma would have admired, and smiles widely, turning her full attention to

my face.

“Nothing eight months of TLC won’t cure, and I’ll have your blood tests checked for low iron.” She smiles, seemingly pleased with herself. She doesn’t falter at her hidden joke and moves to close the front part of her case.

“Eight … Months …?” Jake’s face blanks. He repeats it almost numbly, something registering in his head that I’m not getting, but his whole demeanor is stunned. His voice is suddenly breathy, and all the aggression evaporates.

“Give or take … Here.” She hands me a slip of paper. “It’s a prescription for some folic acid and some vitamins.” Another bright smile, an air of confidence at thinking I know what she means, but I truly don’t.

“Doctor Brown … Why eight months? What’s wrong?” I blink up at her, confused by her manner and answers. Perplexed at Jake’s instant zombie-like state. It’s like I’ve entered the twilight zone.

Why do I need vitamins? What’s wrong with me? Shit … I really am sick. I don’t feel sick, and eight months to recover is not good at all.

She smiles at us and sits on the edge of the bed. Jake is being scarily silent, staring blankly at her and her apparent two heads. His hands have clamped on mine firmly, and there’s a good chance he’s stopped breathing. My stomach is tightening in fear, my senses are going haywire, and my fingers are turning a little blue at Jake’s deathly grip.

What the hell?

“I’m guessing I should be more direct, Emma. I’m saying you’re pregnant. Given the answers to the questions I asked, I would say you’re roughly under a month gone. Your contraception failed, I’m afraid.” She beams at me as though this is the most wonderful news in the world, but my throat tightens, and my stomach flips out. The room tips as the bubbling surge of panic hits me hard.

What?

Jake doesn’t move. I’m not sure he even heard her. He’s acting like he’s in a trance. The complete opposite of what my inner mind is doing.

“Pregnant?” He finally says before his shoulders flex, and his fingers loosen the death grip on mine. He seems to sag a little, still staring but now down at his lap. His mind must be running through the possibility and the realization of what is happening, but I’m just freaking out. My mind is racing, my palms are sweating, and my throat is closing.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

“You’re going to be a father.” She smiles at him and pats his arm gently before getting up. “I should leave you two to it, let it sink in. Congratulations to you both.” She pulls her bag up onto her shoulder. “You have my number. Call when you want to discuss details about having her transferred to a specialist, Mr. Carrero. I can recommend a few. Emma, good luck.” She gets up to go, and the panic surges over me in a terrifying wave of ice, loosening my tongue at last.

“Wait. I can’t be. I mean, I really can’t. I’m on the pill, and we, I mean, I … haven’t missed one. It’s not possible. This isn’t what was supposed to happen. I mean, I should know, I would have known, wouldn’t I? Oh, my God. I can’t … I can’t be pregnant; how can you be sure? You can make a mistake, right?” I’m rambling, voice bubbling out in sheer freak-out mode and about two tones higher than normal. My hands are flapping crazily in front of me. She pauses and gently lays a calming hand on my shoulder, leaning in close enough to make me sit still with bated breath.

“They pay me the big bucks because I’m never wrong, sweetie. Contraception isn’t one hundred percent, and you’re probably a little in shock right now. Take time to think it through and contact me with any questions until I sort you out a referral.” She pats me gently. Then without any sign of me responding due to being completely speechless, she gets up with a goodbye to Jake, who is, quite frankly, freaking me out with his unearthly quietness. She moves off, smiling gently and waving, then walks out without another word as we both sit silent, still staring at the spot she vacated.

I turn my head to look to him for some help, willing him to say something … Anything … To make this better, take it away, or help me stop floundering and freaking out. My body is ready to self-combust with the sheer amount of panic coursing through my veins, and I want to shake him hard.

Fucking snap out of it.

A strange sense of disbelief washes over me, some inner voice trying to get me to calm down. I don’t think I’m awake. If I stay still, then I almost feel like I’m dreaming. I can try not to think about what she’s just said as the cold fear washes over me, over and over, like an all-consuming black hole. I’m sure doctors get it wrong all the time.

Even the $10,000 a pop variety that Jake employs?

“Emma?” Jake’s gravelly tone cuts into my thoughts, his grip on my hand has almost fallen away, and now he’s looking at me with an odd expression, a faraway spooky look in his eyes. He breaks into a slow, steady smile, as though realization has crept up from somewhere low down, and he jerks forward in a flash, kissing me on the mouth ungracefully, hauling me into his arms for a hug. His reaction completely shakes me, the wind is knocked out of me, and I’m still reeling with this new development. Jake’s face radiates sheer joy, from zombie to hyperactive crazy man in one swift move, and it only makes me want to throat punch him even more right now.

“Jake, she has to be wrong. I’m on the pill! I haven’t missed any.” The tears in my eyes are threatening to spill down my face, my body is like Jell-O, and I’m shaking. The shock is changing into some sort of soul-gnawing reality that this is not a dream. Jake holds me close, wrapping me in his arms slowly and carefully, as though he’s expecting me to turn hellcat and fight him, his eyes on me warily.

“It’s going to be okay, Bambina.” His soothing tone holds my panic in place and stops it from escalating into the full-blown hysteria that has been simmering inside me. His embrace unleashes the overwhelming emotion hiding behind the fear in the recesses of my confuddled brain, and it comes springing out, causing me to burst into tears.

I can’t be … I’m not ready for this. I don’t even know if I want to be a mother. Ever. I have no plan in place for this, no real expectation of ever doing this.

“Hey, baby, it’s not what we expected, but it’s not awful. Don’t cry. I know you’re scared, Emma, but I’ll always look after you. I’m right here.” His tone almost sounds … pleased! I sit back glaring at him in complete disbelief, wiping my hand across my sodden face, blinking at him as though he’s lost the plot. I’m sure he’s had some sort of mental breakdown. Am I the only one seeing complete sense of how ridiculous this is?

“How is this not awful? How is this not fucking craziness personified? This is a life, a real human life between us that we never even talked about, let alone planned.” I choke on the tears forcing their way out, and Jake wipes them away, receiving a hand slap in the process. It seems anger was close behind my emotional outburst, and I’m suddenly ragingly aggressive and want to smash things.

Barely five minutes ago, we were contemplating a life apart and whether I can ever let you kiss me again, and now we’re having a … Oh, my God, I can’t even say it.

Anger gives way to choking fear. My head is a mass of confusing emotions and feelings swirling dangerously close to consuming me. I think I’m having some sort of heart attack.

“I know you’re scared, Miele. I know this is a shock, but, Emma, we’re going to be okay. It changes nothing about how much I will fight to make you trust me. It just gives me more reason to pull out all the stops.” He looks down at my abdomen and smiles. I have a serious urge to punch him in the face. Jake Carrero has left the building, and some doppelgänger crazy weirdo is sitting in his place. There’s no way in goddamn hell he can seriously think this is a good thing.

What the hell is wrong with him?

“Jake, it’s easy for you to say … You don’t have to be pregnant, or give birth, or do whatever a mother does! Or be a mother!” I flap my hands at him, and he has the sense to lean back, so his face is out of range, but he looks just the same. Happiness is bubbling under the straight and serious expression he’s trying to keep up for my sake only. “How the fuck can I be a mother?! I don’t know how a mother is supposed to be! I haven’t even touched a baby; I’ve never met one up close. Do you have any idea how stupid this is? How messed up we are, and how bad would bringing a life into this situation be?! Oh, my God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

I flail my arms around, trying to grasp the sheets of the bed to get out, but Jake is quick. He scoops me up and hauls ass to the bathroom just in time to get my head aimed at the toilet bowl.

I give up my chicken soup in an unladylike projectile manner before slumping back in his arms and start crying again. Emotional train wreck Emma is making a grand come back in remarkable fashion. I literally have no control over the emotions I possess. I can’t even begin to dissect them or get them into any real order or control.

So much for a timeout!

“And how many more months of this?” I yell at him. I cry, hopelessly waving my hands at the toilet, grabbing the flusher in repulsion, and sniffing back new tears. “And the fucking crying … I’m so done with all this crying!”

“Listen to me.” He pulls me into his lap on the floor and cradles my face close to his, trying to calm down the freak-out I’m in the middle of having. He battles with my hands so I’m not quite so viciously poised for attack and smooths his fingertips across my mouth, softly and slowly. He knows how to bring my focus to him. It slows down my crazy, my temper taking a moment to pause, drawn into his touch. Despite the whirlwind inside of me, he’s grounding me as effortlessly as he always does.

Breathe, Emma, get control. Watch those endless eyes and take some calm from him.

“Take a breath slowly with me … Try to calm down. Breathe with me, Bambina.” Jake moves so our noses are touching and inhales slowly, those wicked fingers tenderly stroking my bottom lip, encouraging me to do it too. I follow his steady breathing in and out as those captivating green eyes keep me locked in place. Slow, even, steady deep breathing and exhaling until I feel less psychotic. He’s bringing some sense of control back to my body even if my emotions are still out of whack.

“You need to let this sink in, okay? If you really don’t want to do this, Emma, there are other options. I wouldn’t ever force this upon you.” The heartbreak in his face makes me feel physically sick, and I think back to when he told me about asking Marissa to terminate her baby. I doubt he looked at her the same way he does me at the idea of a termination. The look on his face has the same gut-wrenching effect on me as seeing him cry did.

No, I couldn’t do that to him … to us.