Later that day, Ava returned home bearing the title of top 1—with an average of 99.60%. Normally, she might have allowed herself a quiet nod of satisfaction at least. But tonight? She only felt exhausted. She barely skimmed her notes beforehand, answered 250 questions, while the suffocating cocktail of perfumes inside the exam room had made her nauseous the entire time.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Zach asked from across the table.
He was slicing into his blue rare steak—so rare Ava could swear she heard the poor thing attempt a final moo. She used to love her steak like that, but now the sight alone made her stomach attempt somersaults. At this point, she would rather smack that slab of meat across Eva's face.
"I am," Ava muttered, gripping her fork as if it would stop her insides from staging a rebellion. Oddly enough, whenever she looked at Zach, the sickness eased a little—an infuriating, confusing realization. "Damn this pregnancy," she groaned under her breath.
