“Yes.” I chew on my lower lip. “I’m not okay.”
Fuck, that kills me to admit. I’ve always tried to be the strong one, and I have been for so damn long. But nothing lasts forever, and I’m only human. I just hate that, in a way, after almost two years, Missi has won. She’s a big reason I feel the way I do.
The doctor’s face falls into a sympathetic expression. “I’m proud of you for admitting that. I think it would be a really good idea for you to see a therapist. Unfortunately, we can’t look into any medications to help just yet. But once the baby is born, we can see about getting you on an antidepressant. Are you going to be breastfeeding?”
I blink up at him, my lips parted. I’m so confused. What is this man talking about?
“That's okay.” He waves off his question. “You still have a few months to decide. If you do choose not to breastfeed, you would be able to start the medication sooner, if that's how you choose to go about it. But with any luck, maybe some therapy might just do the trick. Although, I will be firm on you quitting cheerleading, at least until after the baby is born. I’m surprised you were able to go this long. Some athletes are able to continue through pregnancy, but seeing how your sport involves you being tossed into the air, that is a big safety risk.”
Am I still sleeping? Or is this some sort of big fucked up joke?
“Hold the fuck up,” Mateo demands. “What the hell are you talking about? Baby? Pregnancy? Rylee isn’t pregnant."
The doctor's brows furrow. “Yes. She is.” He looks down at his chart. “From what the ultrasound shows, she’s close to seven months.”
“What?” I choke out. “No.” I shake my head. “That’s not funny.”
“I–I’m not sure what to say,” the doctor replies. “I’m not joking. Rylee, did you not know you're pregnant?"
“I’m not pregnant!" I insist. “I’m not. Okay. I’m not.”
“Rylee.” Trevor steps up to my bed. “Rylee, baby, you need to stop.” Tears fill his eyes. “This isn’t healthy. Being this far in denial isn’t healthy."
“What do you mean?” Donny demands. “Denial? Rylee, did you know you are pregnant?"
“Yes,” Trevor says, the same time I shout, “No.”
“Rylee. Please.”
“I’m not pregant!” I sob. “I haven’t been since the summer.”
“What?” Trevor’s brows furrow. “No. No... Rylee.”
“I’m sorry.” The tears start to fall. “I lost the baby while we were in Florida. I didn’t have the heart to tell you. You were soexcited. I didn’t know how to process the pain. I went into denial almost immediately, to try to bury the pain.”
“You’ve lied to me for months!” Trevor's face morphs into devastation. “You had me worried that you weren't taking care of yourself, when you weren't even pregnant this whole time.”
“Actually, she was,” the doctor cuts in. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” He looks at me. “I’m not sure what led you to believe you had a miscarriage, but you didn’t. You are indeed pregnant, Rylee. Very pregnant."
“She’s not,” Donny says, lifting up my gown.
“Donny!” I hiss, trying to shove it back down.
“See. No belly. If she was seven months pregnant, like you are insisting, she would have a belly. I might not be the smartest person, but even I know that.”
“It could be due to many reasons. By the looks of the ultrasound, the baby seems to be more towards the back. And you have not been taking care of your body the way you should when you're pregnant. All these can contribute to a cryptic pregnancy."
“What’s that?” Colton asks.
“It’s pretty much being pregnant and not knowing you are,” he answers.
My breathing picks up as a ringing starts in my ears. I can’t breathe. He’s wrong. He has to be wrong. I’m not pregnant. I’m not!
Am I?
“Y-you're telling me that I really am pregnant?" I manage to gasp out as a panic attack starts to set it. “I didn’t l-lose my baby?”
“No, Rylee.” He smiles. “You didn’t lose your baby. If you want, we can do an ultrasound right now, so you can see for yourself.”
