Chapter 124: It’s an IUD

Ivy

Monday morning came too fast and too slow all at once.

I had spent the entire Sunday in my hotel room, ambling between furious planning and paralyzing fear. The bruise on my forehead had turned a sickly yellowish green, still visible enough to raise questions, and the migraine had faded to a dull, persistent throb behind my eyes.

It felt like a constant reminder that something was very, very wrong with my body.

I still hadn’t spoken to any of the Knight brothers.

Roman and Kai had called repeatedly.

Their texts ranged from playful, Vivi, where are you? Did you get kidnapped? Should we send a search party? to concerned, Ivy, seriously, are you okay? to borderline frantic, If you don’t answer in the next hour, we’re coming to find you.

I had sent Roman a quick text saying I was fine and out of town so he wouldn’t go to that apartment looking for me.

Gideon had texted just twice. Are you well? Inform us of your return.

What was I supposed to say? Actually, Mr. Knight, I’m not well. My husband is a monster, I am failing my father, and I just found out I’ve been on birth control for three years without knowing it. Yeah, that would go over well.

The appointment with Dr. Reyes, Adele’s sister, was at nine. I had called the moment Adele gave me the number, my voice shaking so badly that she asked if I needed to sit down. Dr. Reyes had kindly squeezed me into a Monday morning slot after Adele explained the situation.

"Trust me," Adele had said, patting my hand. "My sister has seen it all. She won’t judge."

God, I hoped she was right.

I sat in the clinic parking lot with my hands strangling the steering wheel and my reflection pale in the rearview mirror when my phone buzzed. Gideon’s name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for three rings before I answered.

"Miss Harpley."

His voice was smooth and controlled, but I could hear the concern underneath it.

"M... Mr. Knight."

"You’ve been difficult to reach," he said with a sigh.

"I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy weekend."

"My brothers have been insufferable. Kai has painted three canvases in two days, all of them of you, and Roman has cooked enough food to feed a small army. I have been left to manage the chaos while you ignore our calls."

A flush crept up my neck. "I wasn’t ignoring you. I just needed some space."

"Space. From us?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." I sighed and pressed my forehead against the cool leather of the steering wheel. "It’s complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it for me, Ivy."

The sound of my name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine. Things had changed. Between the library and the way he had held me while I slept, things had definitely changed.

"I had a bit of a domestic accident," I admitted, and he immediately demanded to know where I was. "Oh, it’s nothing serious, Deon. Really. Just a tumble. But I have to go to the hospital today, so I won’t be able to come in to work."

"A domestic accident," he repeated. "What kind of accident?"

"I... uh... I fell."

"Where?"

"In my apartment."

"Which apartment?"

God, he was relentless. "My apartment. The one I live in?"

"Is it serious?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me, Ivy?"

I bit my lip, fighting a smile despite myself.

"Maybe a little."

He exhaled. "Where is the hospital?"

"I’m fine, really. I’ll keep you updated, okay? Please, I have to go. I don’t want to miss my appointment."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Call me when you’re done. Will you?"

"I’ll try." I sniffled, and he hummed.

"That’s all I ask. And Ivy?"

"Yes?"

"Answer your phone next time."

The line clicked dead. Wisteria General Hospital was a sprawling tower of glass that flashed white in the morning sun. The outpatient clinic was on the third floor. I checked in at the front desk, my voice barely above a whisper, and was directed to a waiting room that was thankfully empty.

The air smelled of antiseptic and old magazines, and a wall clock ticked loud enough to count my heartbeats.

Dr. Reyes was a woman in her fifties with silver streaked hair and reading glasses on a beaded chain, who nodded kindly through all of my nervous rambling.

"Let’s start from the beginning. When was your last period?"

"I don’t know. A few weeks? They’ve always been irregular."

"How irregular?"

"Sometimes I skip a month, sometimes two. I thought it was just my body, because of the infertility."

She hummed and made notes. "And these pills you’ve been taking. You thought they were for migraines?"

"Until Saturday, yes."

"And for how long?"

"Almost three years."

She set the tablet down. "Three years is a long time to be on a medication without a proper diagnosis. I want to run some tests, starting with a full pelvic ultrasound. We need to see what’s going on in there."

The scan room was cold and the table was hard under my back. A technician spread gel across my stomach, and the coolness made me flinch. The wand pressed down, and the screen flickered to life with black and white images that looked like static storms.

My phone buzzed in my purse again and again.

"Sorry," I muttered, reaching for it. Ivy Thompson’s name flashed across the screen.

God, what now?

I ignored it while the technician pressed the wand harder, her brow furrowing, but the bloody phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

"For the love of..." I swiped to answer. "What?"

"Finally! If I didn’t know better, I would say you were snubbing me..."

"I am in the middle of the most unbelievable situation of my entire life. Whatever it is, it better be..."

"Money," she blurted. "I need money."

"Money?" I hissed, my voice rising. "You’re calling me for money right now?"

"Yes! I swear, this time it’s serious. I really need it."

The technician cleared her throat. "Ma’am, we need to finish the scan."

"I’ll call you later," I told Ivy.

"No, you don’t understand, I really need it. They’re after me..."

"I’ll call you later!" I screamed, unable to hold back my temper, and tossed the phone aside, breathing hard. "I’m sorry. Please continue."

The technician resumed her work, finished up and wiped the gel from my skin. "The doctor will be with you shortly."

I was led to a small exam room. The phone buzzed again with another call from Ivy Thompson, and I hissed and turned the device off. I would deal with her shenanigans later.

Dr. Reyes entered a few minutes later and sat on the stool across from me, her tablet in her hand.

"Miss Harpley," she began, "we found something."

My heart stopped. "What? Is it a tumor?"

"It’s an IUD."

I blinked. "A... what?"

"An intrauterine device. It’s a small contraceptive shaped like a letter T, inserted into the uterus. You have one."

What on earth? I had never signed up for an IUD.

"What’s more, we found no sign of uterine hypoplasia. You’re not infertile."