Perfect Fate ✔

52. Not The Drake We Know

Him...

"For the hundredth time, Dean. I'm not pregnant." She rolled her eyes at me as I held the women's doctor's clinic's door open..

How you made it this far, and actually be considered really successful is beyond me. For the last time, that is not what it's called. Just google it if you're totally clueless!

"Is the frown on your face because I'm positive that I'm not pregnant, or are you talking to yourself like I usually do when I look like that?" She lifted a finger and pointed at my confused expression before I shook it off.

"I mean, would it really be that bad if you're pregnant?" I asked the really important question as we walked to the receptionist.

"No, of course not, baby. I just don't want us to jump the gun here, okay?" She shrugged, straightening the blue dress I helped her wear earlier, trying not to show that she was a bit worried.

How she repeatedly insisted that she's not pregnant, and how badly she didn't want to come here are both signs that maybe she doesn't want to be pregnant. That might sting a little since I want nothing more than to have a child with her, yet I totally understand if she's not ready to be a mother.

The only thing that worries me, is what if she's already on her way to being one? What if she is actually pregnant? How badly will she freak out? Would she want to get an abortion? Would she be freaking out to the point of running away?

I can honestly not tell.

"Well, let's see, shall we? Don't worry, okay? It's all going to be alright." I gave her a kiss on the forehead that she reciprocated with a smile before turning to the woman sitting at the desk.

"Good morning, my name is Emma Stinson, I called earlier for an appointment." She smiled beautifully.

"Hold on just a moment, please." The woman ruffled through the papers on front of her before looking back up at Emma, "Dr. Susan will see you shortly, in room number two on the right. Please have a seat in the waiting area for just a couple of minutes." She ended with a smile.

"Alright, thank you." Emma held my hand and we headed to the waiting area. A few pregnant women were sitting impatiently waiting for their turns. We headed to the only two seats left, next to a woman sitting anxiously with a little boy, resting her bag on one of the two empty chairs.

"Excuse me, may I?" Emma pointed at her bag politely.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry." The brown haired woman took smiled instantly and took her bag to set it next to her son.

"At least you're not the only male in the room." Emma whispered, with a giggle.

"Actually, I'm not at all uncomfortable." I shrugged, smirking.

"Of course you're not, Dean." She rolled her bug blue eyes at me, "why on earth would you be uncomfortable in the presence of at least ten woman around you?" She gave me a fake smile.

Weren't we just messing around..?

Hormones, man..

She's definitely pregnant.

"What I meant, baby, was that I am totally comfortable sitting here with you by my side. Or anywhere else all the same, no matter the company we have, as long as you're right next to me." I gave her hand a kiss.

"Oh.." she smiled sweetly.

Nicely done.

"Mrs. Stinson, Dr. Susan will see you now in room two." A nurse's voice interrupted us.