<b>Chapter </b><b>584 </b>


    “Sierra,” he greets warmly, gesturing for me to sit. “What brings you here? I thought your next appointment is in a month.”


    The words tumble out in a rush. “This morning, I woke up with cramps. They weren’t too strong at first, but then I noticed blood. Not a lot, but it scared me. I thought…” My throat closes. I swallow hard, blinking back tears. “I thought maybe I was losing the baby.”


    His expression softens, but his tone stays reassuring and steady. “You did the right thing bying in. Let me ask you a few questions, and then we’ll do an exam to check on the baby, all right?”


    I nod quickly, clinging to hisposure like a lifeline.


    “Did you notice the color?” he asks. “Pink, red, dark red or brown”


    “It was a light red.”


    “Have you had any other symptoms?”


    “No. Just those.”


    He asks more questions and I answer as best I can, wringing my hands nervously on myp.


    “Okay<b>, </b>now I need you to lie on the bed, just like you didst time,” he tells me in an assuring and warm


    voice.


    I cling to that warmth, trying to use it to steady me.


    When he begins the examination, my entire body tenses. Every second feels like a lifetime, my heart pounding so loudly it drowns out the hum of the machines.


    Finally, he looks up, a smile easing across his face. “The baby’s fine.”


    The words hit me like a wave, and all the air rushes out of me at once. My hand flies to my chest.


    “Oh, thank God.” A shakyugh escapes me, mixed with tears I don’t bother to hide. “I thought–I thought 1 was losing him.”


    Maybe it’s relief, but for some reason I’m not afraid to cry and be vulnerable in front of him.


    “You’re already referring to the baby as him; do you wish for a boy?” he gives me a full–blown smile and heavens, he’s really good–looking.


    He has one of those smiles that blinds you before reeling you in like a fish caught on a fishing rod.


    “I don’t mind having a girl.” I shake myself from the trance and reply. “But for some reason, referring to the baby as him, just feels right.”


    “Mother’s instincts,” he says as a way of exnation.


    He stares at me for a while before continuing. “What you experienced can happen for many reasons. Sometimes it’s just the body adjusting. Sometimes stress ys a big role. But there’s no sign of danger to your baby right now. What I want you to focus on is rest, keeping yourself calm, and avoiding unnecessary stress as much as possible.”


    I nod quickly, relief flooding every part of me. “I’ll try. I–I promise I’ll try.”


    Damn it! That will be a hard promise to keep, especially with Noah breathing down my neck like a fucking dragon. Maybe I should really consider moving.


    He offers another reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this. And you’re stronger than you think.”


    Something about the way he says it makes warmth bloom in my chest. I blink at him, swallowing back the lump in my throat. “I almost went crazy thinking that I was losing my baby.”


    “It normal. It your first time being pregnant and anything out of the normal would worry you.”


    I smile as I pull my sweater down and get down from the examination bed. “Really, thank you. For this


    and for that day, when you… when you pulled me back from the car.”


    His smile deepens, though he shakes his head like it’s nothing. “Anyone would have done the same.”


    “Not anyone,” I say quietly, holding his gaze for a moment longer.


    The silence lingers, not heavy but… steady andfortable. Finally, I force myself to rise, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you again, Dr. Adrian.”


    Seriously? Why was I thanking him so much? I’m starting to feel a bit embarrassed.


    “It’s always my pleasure to help,” he replies warmly.


    “Bye, take care and see you on my next appointment.” I leave so fast after those words, you’d think the devil was on my trail.


    I pay my bill and step outside, the cool air brushing my face. For the first time all morning, I feel like I can breathe again.


    But as I drive home, the relief dulls into quilt. In my panic, I left without feeding my sweet girl. I step harder on the gas<b>, </b>eager to get home to make sure he’s okay.


    Pulling into the driveway, I’m already rehearsing how I’ll spoil her with extra treats. But when I climb out of the car and turn toward my house, I stop dead in my tracks.


    Standing at my doorstep looking like she owns the ce is Brook.