IT WAS the sixth day.
The obstetrician had said the tests usually took five days.
So today should bring the courier to her door.
As on every other morning, Lara doggedly went to the sewing room, determined on keeping busy, doing what she would have done if Ric had never learnt about her pregnancy. But she’d finished the cot quilt yesterday, and didn’t have the heart to start something else, not when the courier could arrive at any minute.
She forced herself to sift through fabrics that might be good for cushion covers—a futile exercise. Her mind could not focus on anything other than the news she was waiting for—the news that would either bring Ric Donato back into her life or keep him out of it forever.
