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off his forehead. “Certainly, Olivia.”

      He cleared his throat and for the flash of a second, she noticed a hint of something in his chocolate brown eyes that didn’t bode well.

      She tightened the grip on her hands, digging her fingernails into her palms.

      “I don’t quite know how to say this other than to come right out and say it, but your symptoms indicate that you might be having trouble conceiving because it’s possible your body is going through early onset menopause.”

      His words rang in her ears.

      “Menopause?” she heard herself utter. “But I’m only twenty-nine years old, Doctor. How can that be possible?”

      He raked a hand across his handsome face as if this wasn’t easy for him. “It’s rare, but it does happen. The blood tests I did last time showed low levels of estradiol, which indicates your ovaries are starting to fail.”

      “You’ve known this for two months and you didn’t tell me?” she asked as a burning salty sting in the back of her throat brought tears to her eyes and nearly choked her.

      “I’m deeply sorry,” he said. “I did try to contact you. My nurse even sent you a letter asking you to follow up with me, but you didn’t respond. Because of patient confidentiality laws, I couldn’t leave a more detailed message.”

      She’d received the vague letter that had asked her to set a follow-up appointment to discuss her test results. She’d thought it meant that he wanted to discuss which procedure they’d try next time and she hadn’t followed through because of the trial separation.

      How foolish she’d been thinking she had all the time in the world, that she could let nearly three months go by without making any effort to conceive. At least this further justified her being here today—her not mentioning to Jamison the meeting with Dr. Demetrios and making the decision to move ahead—all on her own.

      “Do my brothers and sister know about this?” she asked. If they knew and hadn’t told her she might never be able to forgive them.

      “No, they don’t know. Again, that’s because of confidentiality laws.”

      Olivia swiped at a tear and Chance nudged a box of tissue toward her.

      “But before, you said there was a slim chance that I could conceive.”

      “I’m sorry. That was before I received the test results.”

      Olivia swiped at the tears streaming down her face. It certainly wasn’t the news she wanted to hear, especially with Jamison being so far away … She had to be strong and hear him out. One step at a time. She’d do everything he said she had to do to reverse this condition and then maybe that would be the answer to Jamison’s and her fertility problems.

      “As I’m sure you can understand, this comes as a total and complete shock, but I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to reverse the situation. Please tell me, what’s caused this and most importantly, what can we do to correct it?”

      Chance shifted in his chair, his handsome face looking pained.

      “It’s hard to pin down the exact reason this has occurred, especially since there isn’t a family history of it. But I do have to speculate that your low body weight may have been a contributor. Have you always been this thin, Olivia?”

      Her weight had always been a sensitive subject. A war she’d battled in much the same way as some people battled excess weight. She’d always been naturally thin, but as a ballerina she was encouraged to be even thinner. The thinner the better. But even though ballet had been a big part of her life before she’d met Jamison, she would’ve given it up and gotten downright plump if she’d known her low weight was causing such harm.

      Again, she choked back a rush of tears. “But my other question, Dr. Demetrios, is what do I have to do to reverse this condition?”

      He looked stricken and Olivia knew what he was going to say before he said it. Even so, as the words, “I’m sorry, early onset menopause isn’t reversible,” spilled out of his mouth, Olivia’s vision went white-hot and fuzzy around the edges. The walls were closing in—she had to get out of that office.

      The next thing she knew, she found herself in the parking lot, huddled against the biting cold December wind, sobbing uncontrollably and fumbling in her purse for her keys.

      As she pulled them out, Chance was standing beside her saying something about not letting her drive when she was so upset, but the words were so jumbled she couldn’t quite be sure.

      When he touched her arm, she nearly crumpled and fell into a heap of sobs and tears right there in the parking lot. Dr. Demetrios caught her in the nick of time and held her as she sobbed. But the feel of his strong arms around her made her long for Jamison. She jerked away from him, clicked the car door remote and tried to slide her slight frame into the driver’s seat. Chance caught her arm and kept her from doing so.

      “Olivia, you’re too upset to drive.” He’d chased after her without a jacket and he shivered against the cold. “Please come back inside until you can get a hold of yourself. It’s cold out here and you really have no business driving right now.”

       Get a hold of myself?

      She glared at him. He had just shattered her world with a single revelation. How was she supposed to get a hold of herself when she no longer had a foundation to stand on?

      “I can’t go back in there,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m not ready to tell my family about …” She took a deep breath. “About my condition. Not until I’ve had a chance to process it myself and discuss it with my husband.”

      Chance nodded.

      “I understand. But I still can’t let you drive right now. Let’s walk over to the Coach House Diner just up the street. Then I’ll take you home. We could get some coffee at the diner—”

      “I don’t drink coffee,” she snapped, and immediately regretted it. Especially since he didn’t bristle back at her. He remained calm, unfazed. His dark eyes were patient and kind.

      “I’m sorry, Dr. Demetrios. It’s just that.” Instinctively, almost protectively, she laced her hands over her belly.

      He smiled his patient smile and nodded to let her know he understood.

      “No apology necessary. You’ve received shattering news. What kind of a doctor would I be if I didn’t cut you some slack? But as I said, I’d still like to discuss your options.”

      “I have options? The prognosis sounded pretty final.”

      “There are possibilities. I don’t want to falsely raise your hopes, but this isn’t the end of the line. If you’d prefer not to come back inside, let’s go to the diner.”

      Olivia sucked in a breath. She was feeling markedly stronger now.

      “I suppose I could go back to your office.”

      “Good, I’d put on a fresh pot of coffee just before you arrived and I’m dying for a cup. I’ll steep you a cup of herbal tea and we’ll talk.”

      Her options were slim.

      Chance drew more blood and said he’d have to send it out to be analyzed to see if her ovaries were still producing eggs. If they were, he advised that they harvest as many as possible for future in vitro procedures because, according to the files, they’d used up the rest of her harvested eggs in the last procedure. There was still plenty of Jamison’s frozen sperm—and more where that came from—but for a future procedure to be possible, they’d need more from her.

      If not, their best chance at a family was adoption.

      The thought made her feel queasy. Not so much the thought of giving someone else’s child a home as much as the implications that it meant she would be barren.

      Either

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