Читать книгу One Tiny Miracle... - Carol Marinelli, Carol Marinelli - Страница 3

‘Are you okay?’ Ben asked in concern.

‘Fine,’ she moaned, then looked up. ‘Stupid yoga!’

‘Are you having a contraction?’ He was assessing her; not wanting to just dive in and place his hand on her stomach, he thought he ought to introduce himself first. ‘I’m Ben. I’m a doctor.’

‘And I’m Celeste…’ She blew out a breath and then slowly unfolded. ‘And I’m not having a contraction; it’s a stitch.’

‘You’re sure?’ he pressed.

‘Quite sure!’

He was suddenly slammed back into the past again—just as he was almost every day and every night, not all the time now, but surely, given that it was nearly four years on, too many times.

‘So long as you’re okay,’ he clipped, and went to go.

But suddenly she was holding her swollen stomach with both hands, and blowing out a long, slow breath.

‘That,’ said Ben firmly, ‘is not a stitch.’