Valentino's Pregnancy Bombshell by Amy Andrews

her whole life. So when the sum total of fifteen mils was forthcoming Paige was totally unimpressed.
    What the hell?
    After a further ten minutes of sitting was no more productive, Paige finally gave up. She washed her hands in the sink, inspecting her face in the mirror. The hollows beneath her cheekbones seemed more pronounced in the harsh fluorescent light. Maybe she did have a UTI? One that just involved frequency? Or maybe a kidney stone was blocking the neck of herbladder, only allowing a dribble through at a time? A painless one?
    Hell, maybe she was the only woman on the planet to be in possession of a prostate gland?
    She shook her head and watched her reflection follow suit. Maybe it’d be okay. Maybe it wouldn’t happen again. Maybe she was going crazy and she should get back to work and stop worrying about something that was probably nothing.
    She hurried back to the theatre, washing her hands again before donning a mask and pushing through the swing doors. Valentino and Darren both looked up as she entered.
    â€˜You want to scrub back in?’ Darren asked.
    Paige shook her head. She didn’t want to risk it. ‘You keep going. I’ll scout.’
    Which ended up being a wise decision. Paige spent the entire day in and out of the toilet. She may as well have stayed at home for all the help she’d been. And when the last patient was wheeled out of the theatre to Recovery she’d never been more pleased to clock off in her life.
    She changed into her civvies, grabbed her handbag out of her locker and hurried back to Audiology to update the day’s operating charts. The department had shut for the day and was deserted, for which she was grateful as she steamed into her office and made a quick phone call to her G.P.
    This situation was ridiculous and needed remedying as soon as possible. She was put on hold straight away and Paige tapped her foot.
    â€˜I knew I’d find you here.’
    Paige startled a little as she looked up to see Nat beaming at her from the open doorway.
    â€˜Hi.’ She smiled back, gesturing for her friend to enter.
    â€˜Oh, sorry,’ Nat whispered, plonking herself in the chair opposite. ‘I didn’t realise you were on the phone.’
    â€˜It’s okay. I’m on hold. What’s up? You look like you just won a million bucks.’
    Nat grinned. ‘Better. I’m—’
    Paige held a finger up as the receptionist came on the other end. ‘Just a sec,’ she said apologetically. ‘Hi, yes, my name’s Paige Donald. I was wondering if Dr Mantara could squeeze me in this afternoon?’
    Paige listened as the receptionist explained it was impossible and tried not to scream her frustration down the phone. There was no point in shooting the messenger. She took an early morning appointment the next day instead and hung up.
    Nat crinkled her brow. ‘Everything okay?’
    Paige sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked at her friend. They’d been close during school but life had pulled them apart again until the last few years. Paige just hadn’t had the time or an excess of emotional energy for the type of friendship most women valued. She didn’t realise how isolated she’d become until right now as the urge to unburden took her by surprise.
    â€˜I think…’ She hesitated, unused to sharing such private matters. ‘I think I have a UTI.’
    â€˜Okay.’ Nat leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk. ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning?’
    Paige told her about the day and the inconvenient frequency symptoms. ‘It has to be a UTI, right?’
    Nat regarded her for a few moments. ‘You’re not…? Could you be…pregnant?’
    It took a few seconds for Paige to compute what her friend had said. And she laughed. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she dismissed. And then she sobered as a cold hand clutched at her gut. No way.