Examined by the OB-GYN CEO novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Why Not Me

Claire asks Preston at dinner why he has never touched her, his mother smooths it over and sends her back to the clinic, and at eleven Ronan texts that the appointment was never on his calendar.

"Get dressed," Ronan said. "Then we'll talk about what happens next."

He turned his back while I pulled on my skirt and blouse.

My hands wouldn't do the buttons.

"You can say no to all of it," he said to the glass. "Tell me to find you another doctor and I'll do it today."

"No."

"No, you don't want another doctor?"

"You looked at me while you worked," I said. "Everybody else just writes a prescription and tells me to rest."

He turned around.

For a moment he seemed to be deciding something.

"The nurse will be in the room for every visit," he said. "Come back Monday."

He set my file down square on the desk.

"I'll tell you what I think is going on, and you decide what to do with it."

"Thank you, Dr. Maddox."

"Ronan is fine outside this room."

He picked up the file.

"Mrs. Lowry. Does your husband know what you told me?"

"My husband doesn't ask."

He didn't answer that.

I walked home the long way, along the lake.

I didn't want to reach the townhouse before I knew what I would say.

By seven I knew.

Honora had set the dining table for three, as she always did, with candles and the good plates.

She lived in the guest wing of our house.

She had since the week we married, because the wing had its own entrance and she hated to be a burden.

Preston came in late, loosening his tie.

He kissed the air beside my cheek.

"How was the appointment?" he asked.

"Good," I said. "I'd like to ask you something."

"Sure."

"Why have you never touched me?"

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

"Claire. We're eating."

"It's been thirteen months, Preston. I've asked you twice and you've changed the subject twice. I'd like an answer tonight."

He put the fork down.

"I told you before the wedding I wasn't that kind of husband."

"You said you were shy. You said it'd come with time."

"Time is not the same as never."

My voice was getting louder and I didn't try to stop it.

"For a year I thought something was wrong with me," I said. "I stood in the shower and tried to work out what I'd done."

"You haven't done anything."

"Then say why."

He looked at his mother.

It was a very small look, over the rim of his water glass, and it lasted maybe a second.

Honora set her napkin beside her plate.

"Oh, sweetheart," she said. "You're still on about that?"

"Yes."

"Some marriages are companionship. They're the ones that last."

She waved a hand, kindly.

"Preston is a gentle boy. He just isn't built that way. You've been so tired lately, and it's only natural you'd start fretting."

"I'm not fretting. I went to a doctor."

"And what did the doctor say?"

I looked at her.

She was smiling, with her head tilted to one side.

"He said nothing is broken in me," I said.

Preston's glass was shaking, just slightly, against the tablecloth.

"Which doctor?" he asked.

"You booked it. The 47th floor. Dr. Maddox."

"Ronan did the exam himself?"

"He does them on Thursdays, he said."

Preston stopped chewing.

"You're not going back to him," he said.

It was the first order he had given me in thirteen months of marriage.

I laughed, because it was so unlike him.

"You booked me in with him."

"I booked you in with the clinic. I didn't know he'd be the one. You're not going back to him, Claire."

"Preston," Honora said.

Her voice had changed.

It wasn't sharp. It was very smooth and very even, and it made him stop talking.

"Of course she's going back," Honora said, and she smiled at me. "Ronan is the best there is. We want you well, dear. Don't we, Preston?"

Preston looked at his plate.

"Yes," he said.

I went upstairs to the room I had been sleeping in alone since the night we were married.

I sat on the bed with my shoes still on.

At eleven my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was a number I didn't know.

Mrs. Lowry. Ronan Maddox. I took your number from the chart, and I'll delete it if you tell me to.

A second message came a minute after.

The three o'clock slot you were given was never on my calendar.

My nurse says someone added it at ten to nine this morning, from inside our own system.

Do you know who?

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