CHAPTER 6
SAM
FUCK MY LIFE. Fuck my life.
I’m getting sick, aren’t I? Right before Christmas, and I’d even gotten a flu shot earlier in the year.
For what? There I was, trying to spend some time with Hugh and the kids, and instead I was puking my guts out in a restroom.
Had I eaten something wrong? Was it the flu? Was it the stupid costume I’d decided to wear? No—I had been feeling queasy since I went to Edinburgh the other day to run errands.
I didn’t have a fever or a cough, no sore throat or runny nose.
Maybe it was just a virus—I had been around so many people.
Yes, it was probably a virus.
Or maybe it was . . .no, no, no. It couldn’t be, could it? A deep sigh escaped my lips. I hoped that wasn’t the case.
I wasn’t ready.
Is anyone ever ready, though? I pushed the idea out of my head.
It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
I washed my hands and cleaned up my mouth once I was done.
I avoided the eyes of the other women in the restroom who must have certainly heard me.
I felt so embarrassed.
When I got back in the main part of the shop, I found Hugh and the kids in line for the register.
His eyes widened as he turned around and noticed me.
“How are you feeling? What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing, just my stomach. I’m not sure if I had something that didn’t agree with me or . . . I don’t even want to say it out loud.”
“What?” Hugh asked as we stepped forward in line.
“Maybe I have a virus.” I made a face, and he let out a deep breath. His eyes were laced with worry, but then he gave me a reassuring smile and my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Let’s go home, so you can rest a little bit.”
WHEN WE REACHED THE MACLEODS’ home that afternoon, it was a full house.
Declan had come back from his work trip, and Fergus had landed in London and come along with Tamhas, who picked him up from the airport.
The kids ran to Declan as soon as we crossed the threshold. The smile on his face when the kids jumped into his arms was infectious. His hair was still as cropped as he’d had it a few months back, and his short reddish beard gave him an air of mystery.
It was too bad things hadn’t worked out between him and my sister romantically, but they seemed to be really good friends, and Amira trusted him blindly.
Declan just needed to find a good woman who would enjoy spending time with his beautiful, smart kids. I realized that was easier said than done, but I wanted to see it happen. He’d told me how heartbroken he’d been when he and his wife decided to part ways. I wanted him to have someone he could share his life with, someone who would be okay playing the role of stepmom.
As the kids talked his ear off, he smiled at us and mouthed, “Thank you.”
I went around the room, saying hi to everyone, telling them I didn’t want to hug and kiss them because I was afraid I was coming down with something.
Hugh urged me to go rest, but I felt bad because Fiona was already at work on the Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas lunch.
The year before, I had helped her a bit, and Fergus and Tamhas had also helped in the kitchen. However, at the moment, everyone was visiting in the den, and I didn’t want to be an insensitive guest.
“Sam, go lie down,” Hugh commanded me.
I nodded. “I just want to say hi to your mom,” I told him.
“Fiona, may I help?” was all I could say before I felt overwhelmed by the strong, pungent smell of garlic. It filled my nostrils, making my nose twitch. Fiona was busy at the stove, stirring something in the pot. On the counter, there was a wooden board covered with chopped garlic and chopped onion.
I didn’t hate the smell of garlic, but for some reason, my stomach wasn’t reacting to it well at all. My senses were on high alert. The smell of it had never bothered me before, so why could I barely stand it now?
“Hey, Sam! You guys are back! How were the studios?” she asked, but I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t say a word. I was tongue-tied.
It was happening all over again.
Fiona registered the panicked look on my face before I covered my mouth and ran for the closest restroom.
“Sam, let me in,” Hugh said a moment later.
“No,” I cried as I leaned my head on the arm I was resting on top of the toilet. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“Come on, Sam, we’re married. Don’t be silly—in sickness and in health, remember?”
I flushed the toilet and stood up slowly.
I felt off balance, and my stomach was upside down.
What fresh hell is this?
Doubt overtook my mind again.
What if . . .?
I opened the door of the small British-style toilet to find my towering husband on the other side, eyes clouded with worry.
“Do I need to take ye to the doctor? You’re worrying me, Sam. Earlier at the studios, and now here . . . what’s going on? How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling . . . better, I think. I went to say hi to your mom and the smell of the garlic bothered me a bit, that’s all.”
“I never knew garlic bothered you.”
“It doesn’t . . . it didn’t. Gosh, I don’t even know anymore. I’ll take some medicine and go lie down like you wanted me to, okay?”
Hugh didn’t leave my side. He walked me to our room and pulled the covers back for me then told me to take my clothes off. I gave him a confused look, but then he grabbed my pajamas and helped me into them.
He tucked me in, kissing my forehead with a gentleness that melted my heart.
“You don’t feel like you have a fever, so I suppose that’s good news.” He held my hand, his thumb stroking the back of it. I couldn’t take how worried he looked.
We’d been looking forward to these days so much, and now I felt like a shell of myself.
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.”
“Aye, I’ll try. I’ll come back with some water, and maybe a bucket in case you feel sick again?”
I smiled, grateful and nodded then closed my eyes after he left the room.
Suddenly, I felt like the most tired woman on earth. I was completely exhausted and my body felt as heavy as lead.
Maybe a nap was a good idea. I would just sleep a little bit . . .
I STIRRED as Fiona’s voice called out my name.
“What time is it?”
“It’s almost nine, dear. You’ve been asleep for four hours.”
“Good lord,” I said, letting out a yawn. I forced myself to open my eyes and straightened up.
Fiona came closer and sat on the edge of the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better . . . I think? I’m sure I’ll know soon enough,” I said with a frown. “Where’s Hugh?”
“He and the boys went to the pub, along with their dad. He didn’t want to leave you, but when he came to check on you, you were sleeping.”
“It’s like I can feel the tiredness of a whole year all at once. I’m not sure what’s going on with me. One minute I feel okay, and the next . . .”
“Sam, I hope you don’t think it’s too forward of me to ask this, but . . . do ye think you could be pregnant?” Fiona asked with a hesitant, shy smile.
Had the thought crossed my mind? Heck yeah it had.
“I thought about it . . . but I’ve been on birth control for months now.”
“You know that doesn’t always work. Plenty of women do get pregnant while on birth control.”
I’d heard stories, but I had been taking the pill religiously for several months now. I nodded, unable to think of anything to say.
“I hope you won’t get mad at me, but when I heard you were sick earlier, I went to the pharmacy and got you this.”
Fiona pulled out a pregnancy test from a pharmacy bag, and I winced at the sight of the box.
A few days before, I’d been getting ready for our Christmas break, and now I was pondering taking a pregnancy test.
“Fiona, I’m not pregnant,” I said, almost as if to try to convince myself, but just as the words passed my lips, I began counting in my head.
“How many days?” she asked.
“Just five,” I said, still incredulous. “My period is off a few days sometimes. It varies.”
She reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Dearest Sam, I went through this very thing five times myself. Take the test—what’s the harm?”