That was it, then. It was over. She stared at the paperwork that had been handed off to her. The folder was closed; she didn't need to look over the specifics. He wouldn't lie to her. Hell, it was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to say to her. Lying about it made no sense. She wasn't having a child. At least, not one that was biologically hers. It felt like she'd stared at the off-yellow cover for that folder for hours. So she reached out, resting her hand at edge and curling her fingers around the corner. Maybe somehow... The contents was wrong.
Despite her better judgement, she pulled back the corner. Her blue eyes scanned the page, shifting through the numbers, the prognosis.
She shoved the folder off the desk with a quick sweep of her hand, forcing the contents to fly across the room in disarray. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, running the line of her face and gritting her teeth together. Anything to try and calm her down. To stop her from screaming like a crazy woman in her office - her practice. She looked up suddenly as the door opened and he - the bearer of bad news - appeared in the doorway. She wiped her eyes and breathing an exasperated sigh. "I'm fine."
"No." She started, "I don't need looking after. I don't need anyone coming in and checking on me. I'm a doctor; I give this kind of news to people all the time!" The irony of her own statement wasn't lost on her, and somehow within it all, it caused her to laugh. Because it was ridiculous that someone who saved babies for a living couldn't have one long enough to need to save it. "So... I'm telling you that I'm fine." She concluded, leaning forward against the desk. "Before you even ask. I'm fine."
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