Three months after the wedding, I woke up nauseous for the fifth morning in a row.
Dante was already awake, watching me with concern as I stumbled to the bathroom.
"That's it," he said when I emerged, pale and shaky. "You're seeing Dr. Bennett today."
"It's just stress. The new restaurant openings, the Commission meetings"
"Isabella, you threw up yesterday during a business negotiation. That's not normal stress." He was already texting. "Dr. Bennett can see you at noon. I'm coming with you."
"You don't have to"
"I'm coming with you."
Four hours later, I sat on an examination table while Dr. Bennett drew blood and asked questions I already knew the answers to.
"When was your last period?"
I calculated. "About seven weeks ago. Maybe eight?"
Dante's hand tightened on mine.
"Any other symptoms? Fatigue? Breast tenderness? Food aversions?"
"Yes to all three. But I assumed it was just"
"Let me run some tests. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
