Abigail smiled too—she could not care what others would say, or that they were in his office.
She simply kept her hands around him, refusing to let go.
It was unprecedented, but she was really clingy today.
“Aren’t you worried that everyone else in the building would accuse you of bewitching me with your good looks?” Diarmuid asked.
Abigail certainly did not seem to care. “You already embarrassed me so much last time I was here. Why would I be worried?”
Diarmuid put a hand around her shoulder. “Fair enough. I have nothing to worry about since you’re not.”
She giggled as they left Diarmuid’s office together.
“Mr. Althoff,” an employee greeted them, and Diarmuid nodded slightly at him.
Abigail had been acquainted with everyone when she last visited, so they recognized her as well.
And since she gave the impression that she was clingy before, none of them were surprised—if anything, they envied her inwardly for her pretty cheeks and good fortune.
Which in turn ensured her a life of riches and glamor!
Ding—
The elevator arrived downstairs, and they both stepped out.
When Abigail saw the front desk receptionist, she told Diarmuid, “She lent me her skirt. Everyone here is so nice.”
As Diarmuid looked up at the front desk, the receptionist smiled in greeting. “Mr. Althoff, Mrs. Althoff.”
“I’ll tell Finance to give you a raise,” Diarmuid said.
The receptionist was at first stunned, and she quickly thanked him when she came to a realization.
“Thank my wife. She’s in a good mood because of you,” Diarmuid told her.
As the receptionist got a little embarrassed, Abigail smiled at her. “Do your best!”
“I will,” the receptionist said determinedly.
Once they were outside, Diarmuid said, “You’re a real boss lady now, the way you’re encouraging employees.”
Abigail nudged him with her elbow. “Is teasing me that fun?”
“Yes,” Diarmuid replied.
Abigail’s car was just ahead, and she said, “This will do.”
“I’m going home with you.”
Abigail shook her head. “No, I was just playing with you—go back to work, but come home earlier.”
“Okay,” Diarmuid said, and walked her to her car.
Abigail waved him goodbye, and told Eagle, “Let’s go home.”
However, as he drove off and Diarmuid returned inside the building, she told Eagle, “Wait. Let’s go to the hospital instead.”
Eagle frowned. “Neil Turner is going to hound you when he sees you, ma’am.”
“Not that one,” Abigail said.
“Which one, then?”
“Any would do. Check if there are any hospitals nearby,” she said softly, suddenly appearing tired as she reclined against her seat.
Eagle tapped on the GPS system in the car, but the nearest one was quite far.
Still, seeing Abigail was tired, he did not ask any questions and drove straight there.
It was after a long while that the car stopped and Abigail alighted.
“Don’t tell anyone you brought me here,” she told Eagle.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
With that, Abigail headed inside…
Abigail headed to the gynecologist’s clinic and went through several tests before heading to the waiting area for her results.
It was after over an hour when she was given her medical slips, and she took them to the doctor.
After screening through them, the doctor looked up at her and said, “The tests showed that you had a biochemical pregnancy… But what made you suspect it? Most patients wouldn’t even feel it.”
Abigail breathed a deep sigh—her hunch was right.
Even if her period was punctual, she was bleeding more than usual and there were chunks.
Though her speciality was cardiovascular diseases and not gynecology, she more or less had the basics and definitely knew more than the average woman.
As Abigail stayed silent, the doctor simply presumed that it was just a shot in the dark and patiently explained, “They’ve named biochemical pregnancy after the development of HCG tests, and in such cases, you won’t notice any signs of pregnancy, or it was such a short pregnancy it doesn’t interrupt your menstruation. However, the embryo would in turn quickly die of natural courses—it’s both atypical and a natural variant of miscarriage. Under normal circumstances, no one would go through HCG tests or pay it attention, and they’d just presume it’s an odd session of menstruation where they bleed more and for longer than usual. You should come again in a few days. After you bleed everything out, future pregnancies won’t be affected, but…”
Holding her gaze just then, the doctor finished, “The scans suggest that your uterus lining is too thin for pregnancy.”
Abigail certainly knew that herself. “Yeah, I know.”
“In that case, you should always use protection,” the doctor lowered her head and wrote something. “I’ll give you a prescription for a diuretic to clear everything out.”
As Abigail nodded, the doctor reminded her, “But it’s no different from a typical miscarriage. You need to be careful and stay healthy.”
“Yeah,” Abigail murmured softly.
After leaving the clinic, she headed downstairs for her medicine, touching her belly gently as she stood in queue.
Her fingers clenching as she spaced out, as if she was having a dream.
She would actually think it was one if she was not queuing up at the pharmacy—it was simply unreal.
After getting her medicine, she left and headed home, though her complexion remained slightly pale.
Sheryl Harris saw her and asked, “Are you sick?”
When Abigail shook her head, she glanced pointedly at the bag of medicine she was carrying. “What are those, then?”
Abigail lowered her gaze, her eyes widening in realization.
Still, she smiled. “I was having my period, but my hip was hurting too. So I got some medicine.”
Sheryl nodded. “I’ll make you some cranberry juice.”
“Okay.”
“Now go upstairs and rest!”
…
Abigail felt cold even as she lay under the warm blanket, so she curled up.
“Mommy.”
She opened her eyes when she heard that sweet, tender voice.
Seeing Tommy sprawled on the edge of the bed and staring innocently at him, she reached out to pat his head.
“Do you want to take a nap with me?” she asked mildly.
Tommy shook his head. “I don’t want a nap.”
Abigail pursed her lips and pinched his soft cheeks. “Okay, then will you watch me sleep?”
Tommy instead asked, “Can you play with me?”
Abigail certainly could not bear to reject her adorable son.
Pulling off her blanket, she got off bed and scooped Tommy up in her arms. “What do you want to play?”
Tommy tilted his head in thought just as Sheryl arrived upstairs.
Seeing her carry Tommy, she asked, “Does your hip not hurt anymore?”
Abigail smiled. “It hurts.”
“Then why are you carrying Tommy?” Sheryl asked as she put the glass of cranberry juice on the table. “Don’t you know how heavy he is now? I guess you weren’t hurt enough, huh?”
Still, she was sympathetic enough to take Tommy off Abigail’s arms.
“Carry him when you’re better,” Sheryl said as she carried Tommy downstairs, not forgetting to remind her, “And finish your juice.”
Tommy pouted unhappily. “I hate you, Grandma.”
Sheryl tapped his little nose. “Be a good boy. Your mommy’s sick right now, but she’ll play with you when she’s better.”
“You’re lying. Mommy can carry me and she’s smiling. She’s not sick.” Tommy started flailing his little feet. “Let me down.”
Sheryl did so, and he promptly ran up to the couch and threw himself on it angrily.
“Be a good boy now,” Sheryl coaxed. “How about I buy you another Transformers—”
“I don’t wanna!”
Tommy snapped, refusing it despite his recently developed fondness for Transformers.
Unable to coax him whatever she did, Sheryl simply ignored him, since he would just pick himself up afterwards.
However, Tommy was still pouting when Diarmuid returned, and he threw himself at Diarmuid’s arms when he saw him. “Daddy.”
Diarmuid picked him up, asking, “What’s wrong? Why are your eyes red?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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