6| Terribly sick.

I puke out my guts in the toilet, and I can tell that Oliver is worried about me as he has been coming from time to time to check up on me.

 

This is the fourth time today that I've thrown up. It all started a few days ago, when we first got to the human lands. I initially thought that it was just my body that had problems adapting to the new environment. But now I'm not so sure. I'm sick.

 

Dreadfully, terribly sick.

 

I flush down the toilet and carry my body up. I rinse my mouth using the sink's tap water before turning to the mirror to face my reflection. I look so different.

 

Oliver and I went shopping the other day and bought new clothes. I've been eating more regularly now, unlike before in the pack when Luna Lauren used to starve me.

 

Dare I say I'm looking healthier now?

 

But that can't be possible; I'm sick. Sick people don't look plump and lively. I'll have to go to the hospital tomorrow.

 

I come out of the bathroom and walk over to the living room of the apartment that Oliver got for us in the meantime. It's a nice place. Very spacious and modern. I like it.

 

I find Oliver sitting on the longest couch with his fingers on his forehead and his elbows against his thighs. He looks like he's thinking.

 

"Oliver?" I call out to him, and he suddenly snaps out of whatever trance he was in. He's already standing up from the chair and walking over to me before I can say anything.

 

"Isla, are you okay?" He asks in a concerned tone as his eyes take me in, searching for any sign of discomfort.

 

I run my hand through my face and sigh before speaking, "I'm fine. I'm just feeling a little dizzy and tired." I try to wave off the matter, but I don't think he's going to let it go so easily.

 

"Isla, please talk to me. I'm sure you're not feeling good. Tomorrow, I'll take a break from work and follow you to the hospital to get checked." He offers, and I start to shake my head.

 

"No, don't bother. I can't do that by myself. You just started working; taking leaves won't look good on your name." I say, thinking ahead, but he's not listening.

 

"Forget about work. It doesn't matter as much to me as you." He says this, coming closer to me.

 

"It should. I'm fine. I can take care of myself. I can do things all on my own; I don't need people always trying to help and save me." My words come out harsher than intended, causing Oliver to take a step back as his face falls.

 

He clears his throat awkwardly before putting on a brave stance. "I know you can take care of yourself," he starts to say in a soft tone, and I nod.

 

"It's just that I want to take care of you." His words are really sincere. I notice how honest his eyes are and how hopeful his expression is.

 

I'm not trying to start a fight or anything, but at some point, I need to start learning to do things on my own. Strong men won't always be around to help me. Those tend to change their character.

 

I stare at Oliver, and his sincerity gets to me. He would never turn on me. I know that. But I need to do this alone.

 

"I know, but you shouldn't bother about something as trivial as this." I belittle the matter, and he frowns.

 

"It'll probably be a slight food poisoning from something I ate. Don't worry, I'll go to the doctor and have it checked." I say it in a calming manner, and we have a small staring contest.

 

Oliver gives up five seconds later with an exasperated sigh: "Okay, fine. But if anything—anything at all—goes wrong, I'm only one call away. Call for me, and I'll come rushing to you." He says this, smiling at the ending, and I mirror his expression.

 

"What is this? When did you start getting all sweet on me?" I tease him in a playful tone, and something glints in his eyes.

 

"I've always been this way towards you." He says, his words giving off a deeper meaning than the playful reply I thought he would give.

 

After that, we prepare for bed in our now separate bedrooms. I slept peacefully that night, something that has been happening more frequently to me now that I'm in the human world.

 

I'm up bright and early the next morning, preparing breakfast for Oliver and me. Back at the pack, I used to be forced to do all these chores with scornful looks and unappreciative comments. But now, I quite like the chores.

 

I cook cheerfully, humming a beat, and Oliver comes down after I'm done with everything. We eat breakfast with an easy and light-hearted conversation going on before he leaves me alone to go to work.

 

I put together a few things around the house before I decided to get ready to head to the hospital. Once I change into my outside outfit, which is a pair of jeans and an inner shirt with a jacket, I start to feel nauseous.

 

I'm forced to sit back on my bed and wait it out for a few minutes. Once it finally passes, I head out to the door and lock the apartment.

 

I haven't really been associating deeply with anyone here yet, but I don't think it's a problem. Just because I'm perfectly friendly with people doesn't mean we get to be besties. I've started opening my eyes to the negative parts of society.

 

I take a cab and direct him to the nearest hospital. While we ride, I stare at the vast universe all around me. I like how everyone is so casual and easygoing here. It's unlike what I'm used to.

 

So many people are free to do what they want, but at the same time, a lot of things are restricted. Even some people don't get to talk to others. The ones from the lower castes aren't to be associated with the higher castes. I was an exception, except that it ended badly for me.

 

Every time I think of the betrayal, a sharp pain hits my sides. So I try as much as I can not to think of it. The cab driver gets to my destination, and I pay him for the service.

 

I let out a sigh as I stepped out of the cab, clutching my bags. I hope it's just a slight case of food poisoning that's wrong with me, like I said.

 

I step into the hospital, and cool air slaps my face. I make a face at it, and a lady that's walking out of the hospital laughs.

 

"You never get used to the cold." She remarks before walking away, and her words sink in deeper than they should.

 

A person never really gets used to being cold.

 

I walk up to the front desk and tell them of my issue. I'm directed to a waiting room, and thankfully, my turn comes after a few people.

 

When it's time, I walk into the doctor's office, and my heart starts to palpitate. I'm not sure why I'm getting so anxious. It's just a test.

 

I can count with my right hand's fingers how many times I've been to the doctor in my life. I'm rarely one to get sick, so as I see the posters hung all around the doctor's office, a shiver runs down my spine due to fear.

 

"Good morning. Hi, I'm Doctor Rivers." The doctor introduces herself, and I wave awkwardly as I walk deeper into the office.

 

She gestures to the seat on the other side of her desk, and I take to it immediately.

 

"What seems to be the problem?" She asks nicely.

 

"Well, for the past couple of days, I've been feeling unwell. Unwell being moody, nauseous, and sometimes light-hearted. I've thrown up a few times as well. Doctor, is it something I ate? Food poisoning, perhaps?" I say all this in an anxious tone, and the doctor clears her throat.

 

"I can't say for certain. We'll run a few tests and see what we're dealing with." She suggests, and I nod my head.

 

I'm led to the test room, and they carry out some medical tests on me. My mind is faraway as they do so. Once the doctor and her assistant finish, she asks me whether I'd like to wait and get the results back today or come some other time.

 

I tell her that I'll wait, and I'm led to the waiting room. I sent a quick text to Oliver, informing him of everything, but he didn't reply. He's probably busy with work.

 

I don't know how long I will wait until a nurse calls me back. In the doctor's office. I go back cheerily, suddenly feeling positive about things.

 

I settle back down on the chair with Doctor Rivers holding my test results in her hands.

 

"I'm not really sick, am I? Is it just the food poisoning?" I ask in a hopeful tone, and she smiles at me.

 

"No, Ms. Amory, you're not sick," she says, and I let out a sigh of relief.

 

"In fact, I have good news concerning your body." She adds, and I tinge my brows.

 

"Yes, good news." She quips as she hands me the test results, and I start to go through them.

 

"Ms. Amory, you're—"

 

"Pregnant." I complete in horror.

 

Oh no.