The young male doctor unhurriedly took the registration slip from Lottie's hand and hung it on the small iron bar on the table, but his eyes glanced towards Belle.
Belle glanced at the registration slip and saw that it read 'Stanley', who was an attending physician, so it seemed that this young man was quite good at gynecology.
Although she had long known that there were now male gynaecologists, it still made Belle feel embarrassed.
"Give me your hand." Stanley spoke in a warm voice.
Do gynaecologists need to take a pulse too?
Belle was surprised, but she still extended a hand.
Soon Stanley's warm fingers were on her wrist, his eyes slightly closed, and after a moment, Belle saw his eyebrows twisted and felt her pulse seem to follow suit.
His face remained calm as usual, unreadable, but Belle's heart jumped suddenly.
"Do a check-up first." He spoke lightly, his right hand tapping on the keyboard, and a moment later a checklist came out of the printer.
Is there a serious illness that needs to be checked?
Belle took the checklist with apprehension.
"Thank you, Doctor." She said politely as Lottie helped her walk towards the outside.
"What is the check-up?" Lottie grabbed the checklist from Belle's hand and read it, a urine test? She frowned but didn't say anything more.
"You can wait for me outside." After reaching the toilet on the second floor, Belle said with a faint smile. The smell of this toilet could not be good, how dare she condescend to Lottie to accompany her inside?
"I'll wait for you outside." Lottie was still worried and stood outside the toilet.
"Thanks." Belle sincerely thanked her and walked towards the bathroom.
As she just entered the doorway, the unpleasant smell wafted over. She felt her stomach sick and she wanted to vomit. When she walked out, Lottie helped her to sit on the chair outside.
When did her body become so weak? Belle gasped, secretly surprised.
The results came out soon.
While Belle was still reading the checklist carefully, she heard Lottie screaming strangely.
"Positive."
Belle saw the word 'positive' written on the checklist, what does that mean? She lifted her head and looked at Lottie in confusion.
"Belle, you're actually pregnant." Lottie said with a gloomy face as if she had expected it, her face full of grief and resentment.
What, pregnant!
When these few words boomed out of Lottie's mouth, Belle felt dizzy.
It was a long time before she came back to her sense.
Was she pregnant? How could that be? But soon the face went white, and it was only then that she remembered that her period had been late for a long time.
At the mere thought of it, cold sweat broke out all over her body and she headed upstairs with the checklist in hand.
"Doctor, please take a look, what's wrong with me?" Although Belle didn't know much about physiological common sense, she still felt a crisis right now and immediately rushed upstairs, handed the checklist to Stanley and asked eagerly.
Stanley took the checklist without haste, read it carefully, the corners of his mouth smiled slightly, and said in a warm voice, "Miss, this is not a disease, you are just pregnant."
Really pregnant!
After receiving Stanley's affirmative answer, Belle's eyes went black and she almost fainted.
She was completely devastated by the word 'pregnant'!
How could she be pregnant under such a situation?
No, no way.
She still didn't want to accept the reality.
"Doctor, I'm just vomiting, it's just a gastroenteritis, please give me some medicine." She swallowed and tried to explain, trying to make the doctor hear her better.
Besides, she was going to leave him. A woman blackmailing a man into marrying her on the basis of her pregnancy was something she didn't care to do!
And could she really forgive him and return to him since Lexie was pregnant?
Impossible!
If that was the case, then her pregnancy was nothing at all!
The more she thought about it, the more chaotic it became. She really needed to calm down and think about it seriously, but her heart was in a mess and she couldn't think of a clue, but she knew that she had to stop Lottie from going to Calvin at this moment.
"What are you saying? Calvin is not the father?" Lottie was really confused by Belle, her eyes widened, "Then who is the father?"
Belle looked away, her voice hoarse and hollow, "Lottie, this is my personal matter, please don't ask about it, and please don't get involved, but I appreciate your good intentions."
"No." Lottie seemed to have seen through Belle, after only a moment of hesitation, her eyes were about to burst into flames of anger, "Belle, don't lie to me, only that bastard can make you pregnant. You are my friend, I can't watch you being bullied by him. You father has dead and your mother is badly sick, if I don’t step forward to help you, no one will be in your back. I can't bear to see you suffer like this. Calvin, this beast, I will make you die in pieces, even if you has die, I have stab on you and ruined your reputation.”
Lottie gritted her teeth, clenched her fists together, and even her eyes were red.
Yesterday, when she opened the door, she saw Belle lying on the sofa, her body was covered with snowflakes. After the snowflakes melted, her body was drenched, her face was as white as a ghost. She was directly destroyed by him!
No man but Calvin could have hurt her like this!
This was something that Lottie knew better than anyone else!
She couldn't bear it any longer. If she continued to bear it, what would happen to the child in her belly? What would happen to her reputation?
She turned around and pulled Belle towards the outside.
"Don't, Lottie, please, don't." Belle desperately dragged her back, crying, "You're not me, you don't know my situation, please don't be impulsive."
"Belle, are you weak or just stupid? You're still protecting him, is he really that worthy of your love? If he was really worth it, he would not have you stay in my house in this state."
Lottie was being held by Belle and could not move forward, so she stomped her feet in anxiety.
As Belle listened to Lottie's words, she burst into tears, and at this moment she was in complete disarray.
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