Grace's POV
Carlos and I found ourselves seated together before the obstetrician, who had just returned to his desk clutching the results of my pregnancy examination.
Six weeks had elapsed since we'd expelled Amara from our existence, yet the liberation we'd anticipated remained elusive. The instant we'd stepped back into our workplace, mountains of paperwork and reports had buried us, consuming every waking moment of the past month without respite.
This marked our inaugural appointment with the pregnancy specialist. Anxiety gnawed at me regarding the outcome, given the relentless migraines plaguing me, my depleted energy levels, and the morning nausea that greeted me daily.
I'd been masking my discomfort, pretending everything was fine since our workload was overwhelming.
That charade crumbled when Carlos observed my pallor and fragility—I appeared ready to collapse at any second. He'd demanded we schedule this medical consultation immediately.
