40. Hunter

I'm numb.

So numb that the absence of pain aches more acutely than any injury I've ever experienced.

I miss the pain.

They gave me an initial dose of painkillers and sent me home with a prescription for extra-strength ibuprofen. I have instructions to rest and seek comfort care as needed in the form of heating pads and hot showers.

In three days, I'll follow up with my regular OBGYN to make sure my hCG levels continue to decrease.

I don't even know what hCG stands for.

But as soon as the words came out of Dr. Jones's mouth, I knew.

According to her, an ultrasound isn't necessary unless the levels don't fall and they have to look for unshed tissue. The baseline level was already lower than they expect at six to seven weeks.

I'll never get to see our baby.

A silent sob racks through me, twisting my stomach and making my chest ache so badly I gasp for air.

I'm strapped into the front seat of Greedy's truck with Levi behind the wheel.

I want to thrash and scream. Break free.

Break everything.

I'm broken.

Bleeding out and broken.

I'm still bleeding so heavily the ER nurse gave me a pair of oversized mesh panties and sent me home with a bag full of mega pads.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do," Dr. Jones said an hour ago.

"This isn't your fault,"my dad assured me the night my mother stormed out of the house and he sat me down to tell me he had asked for a divorce.

I'm hollow. I've never felt so low. Yet the emptiness is familiar.

The good never stays.

"How about a cheeseburger?" Levi suggests, breaking me out of my doom spiral. "You need to eat. Keep up your strength."

Levi knows. He knows what's happening right now, as I cramp and bleed in the front seat of this truck.

I couldn't not tell him. I couldn't fight back the tears or hold in my sorrow.

He cried with me and held me when I told him I had been pregnant.

Had been, but wasn't anymore.

Had been, but nothing good ever stays.

At least not for me.

I hate that he knows when I haven't had a chance to tell Greedy.

I called him twice, and it went to voicemail both times.

"I'll buy you a milkshake," Levi offers, his tone soft and placating, like he's speaking to a child.

"I'm not hungry." I've told him so several times since we left the hospital. "I just want to go home."

We ride in silence through my neighborhood.

Except when we turn on to the cul-de-sac, it's clear that I can't go home.

There are two cars in the driveway, and a well-dressed woman in a pantsuit with her hair styled in sleek braids stands near the front door, a folder in hand.

Flovely.

All I want to do is curl up in my bed and sleep, but there's a decent chance strangers are standing in my bedroom at this moment, inspecting the crown molding and measuring the depth of the walk-in closet.

Swiping at a fresh round of tears, I dig through my bag for my phone. It's buried under the bag of oversized pads and the dirty blue hospital socks the nurse insisted I take with me.

I open the text thread from my mom. Maybe the showing ends soon.

There isn't any mention of the showing in our recent messages. She didn't even bother to inform me. Although I guess she thought I'd be on campus all day.

What I do find is a series of recent texts.

Mom: Hunter, I need you to come to the Lake Chapel Country Club today after your school thing. Be here by 5 pm. Cocktail attire.

My "school thing" was supposed to go until late afternoon. I would have been hard-pressed to make it by five. Not that she cares.

A second text message includes the address.

A third text message comes through as I'm holding the phone.

Mom: Confirm you'll be here, Hunter. This is important to me.

I'm too exhausted to even roll my eyes, but I type out a confirmation. I don't bother asking about when the people will be out of our house. Not when she's obviously fired up already. Hopefully, once they do leave, I'll have time to make myself look presentable in the cocktail attire she requires.

"Have you heard from Greedy yet?" Levi asks, pulling over a few houses down from mine.

"Still nothing, but I did get this." I hand him my phone so he can read the texts from my mom.

"Wait. Greedy was golfing at LCCC today." Levi hands my phone back.

"Maybe I can catch him there. Will you go with me?" I ask softly.

"Of course." He cups my face and swallows audibly. "Daisy, I'm—"

"Don't," I beg.

I can't stand his kindness. I can't stand the idea of acknowledging the loss out loud before Greedy knows.

Levi bites down on his bottom lip and pulls back his hand. Tipping his chin toward my house, he asks, "Want me to go in there and kick them out?"

It's impossible not to smile at the offer. Levi is one of the sweetest, least intimidating people I know.

"We can wait." I sigh and rest my head back against my seat. "As long as I have thirty minutes or so, I can be ready."

"Put the seat back." Levi plucks the worn denim hat off his head and carefully places it on mine, pulling the brim low to block out some of the warm afternoon sunshine. "Sleep. I'll wake you up when they're gone."