Chapter 5: The Last Shred of Dignity
Why had he been pretending to care about me? He was the one who’d made me stand in the rain yesterday!
Now, his concern just felt even more fake, even more disgusting.
Christina shifted beside me, her perfume making my stomach roll.
I couldn’t go to the hospital.
If I had, my pregnancy would’ve been exposed.
It sounded silly, but I didn’t want anyone to know about the baby—I needed to hold on to whatever little self-respect I had left.
Especially in front of Christina.
“That’s not your business.” I siad coldly and pressed my forehead against the cool window.
"Sean," Christina's voice was honey-sweet with concern, "maybe it's because of my presence? I could get out here, and you can take Angela to the hospital? Her condition seems serious, we shouldn't delay."
"Don't be ridiculous," Sean snapped, though his tone softened as he continued. "This isn't about you."
I caught Christina's perfectly practiced look of contrition in the window's reflection.
"Angela, I apologize if I've misunderstood. I thought you might be uncomfortable because of my relationship with Sean."Christina played the victim, acting hurt.
"It's fine." I said coldly.
Sean's hand moved toward my forehead, but I flinched away before he could make contact.
The hurt that flashed across his face was gone so quickly.
"I know a private clinic," Christina offered after a moment of tense silence.
"Dr. Thomas Carter – he's absolutely brilliant, very discreet. No waiting rooms, no publicity."
Sean's eyebrows drew together. "Carter? What are his credentials?"
"Harvard Medical, top of his class." Christina's smile was knowing, intimate. "He handles most of the Upper East Side's more... delicate situations. Elizabeth's heart specialist actually consulted with him about her upcoming surgery."
The mention of Sean's grandmother sent another wave of guilt through me. Here I was, carrying her desperately wanted great-grandchild, while planning to divorce her grandson.
The irony would have made me laugh if I weren't so focused on not throwing up in a car worth more than most people's annual salary.
Sean studied me for a long moment before nodding.
"Fine. Peter, change of plans. Dr. Carter's clinic on East 76th."
The clinic occupied the first two floors of a pristine townhouse, its discrete brass plaque the only indication that it wasn't just another multi-million-dollar residence.
Christina's hand on my elbow as we entered felt like a brand, her solicitous attention more suffocating than the fever.
I tried not to flinch as the doctor raised the thermometer, but my body betrayed me with an involuntary step backward.
Sean's hand appeared at the small of my back, steadying me. The gesture felt achingly familiar – a echo of genuine concern from a man who would soon be my ex-husband.
"102.3," Dr. Carter announced after finally managing to take my temperature. "Not dangerous yet, but heading that way. I'd like to start an IV to bring the fever down and prevent dehydration."
"No." The word came out sharp, panicked. An IV meant blood work. Blood work meant pregnancy hormones. Pregnancy hormones meant...
"Angela." Sean's voice held a warning. "Don't be difficult."
"No needles," I insisted, hating how weak I sounded. "Just... whatever you can prescribe orally."
Dr. Carter's eyes flickered between Sean and me, professional mask firmly in place. "There are other cooling methods we can try, though they're less efficient. Christina, would you mind helping my nurse set up the cooling blankets?"
"Of course." She squeezed Sean's arm as she passed – a casual gesture that spoke volumes about their comfort level with each other.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see Sean's response. The room felt like it was slowly spinning, though whether from fever or emotional exhaustion, I couldn't tell.
"Mrs. Shaw," Dr. Carter's voice was carefully neutral, "would you prefer to discuss your treatment options privately?"
"That won't be necessary," I managed. "Whatever you think is best, as long as it doesn't involve needles."
Sean made a sound of frustration. "This is ridiculous. You've never had problems with medical procedures before."
Before I was carrying your child, I thought bitterly.
"The cooling blankets are ready," Christina announced, returning with the same perfect timing she always seemed to manage.
Of course she would know her way around medical equipment – the future Dr. Jordan, savior of Sean Shaw, had to maintain her image of competence.
"The fever's coming down," Dr. Carter announced finally. "But she needs rest – real rest, not the kind that involves checking emails from bed."
"I'll make sure of it," Sean said.
"I can stay with her," Christina offered. "My rotation doesn't start until next week, and it would be no trouble..."
"That's not necessary," Sean cut her off. "I'll handle it."
The surprise on Christina's face mirrored my own.
I never thought Sean would want to take care of me himself.
"Let's get you home," he said quietly, helping me to my feet.
The world swayed, and I grabbed his arm for balance. He steadied me without comment, his hand warm through the thin material of my blouse.
I closed my eyes as Sean helped me into the car.
At least my secret was still safe.