Chapter 17: Her Numbers

Brianna's POV

"An hour," I said from the doorway.

Tucker turned around on the driveway with his boots on and his hands empty.

"I didn't know anyone saw," I said.

"I'm sorry. I should have said it a long time ago."

"You would have said it to a woman who was married to someone else."

"Yes."

"And I would have told you I was fine."

"Yes," he said. "You did."

I had a hundred answers, and I picked the smallest one.

"Come in and eat something," I said. "My mother ordered you to."

He laughed, and we ate eggs standing up at the counter, and neither of us mentioned the table behind us.

On Monday morning I sat on a paper-covered exam table in the fertility clinic with the lab report in my purse.

I had missed my last appointment, and the front desk had rebooked me without a word.

The doctor came in with my chart under her arm and sat on the rolling stool.

"It's good to see you," she said. "Your last two cycles never got a proper review. How have you been?"

"I'm divorcing my husband," I said. "And I need you to look at something."

I handed her the sheet in its plastic sleeve.

She read it once, and then she sat very still.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was in his jacket pocket. It's dated fourteen months ago."

"Preston Lyle," she said, reading the name. "I've been trying to reach him for three years."

"Reach him about what?"

"His half of the workup."

She opened my chart and turned it toward me.