CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AMBER

I’m lying in bed with my arm draped over my eyes. Thinking about the baby now instead of Farrah.

This pregnancy is taking it out of me, and there’s still a way to go. Wish I weren’t alone in this. Wish things with Noah were different. Wish—

A knock on the bedroom door disrupts my thoughts. Probably Bobby again. Can’t he give me some space? He means well, I know, so I need to be nice. “What is it?”

“Can we talk?”

That’s not Bobby.

I slide out of bed and walk to the door. Rub my cheeks and use my fingers to fluff my hair. “What do you want?”

“Will you let me in?”

I touch the doorknob and change my mind. “I don’t think so.”

“Please.”

He sounds like a little boy whose heart is breaking. How can I not do as he asks? I open the door and step away.

He moves inside.

“Go ahead,” I tell him, holding back the tears.

He looks so lost standing there. “How come you left?”

That was the wrong phrase to use. It triggers something inside me that causes my pulse to quicken. I’m light-headed. I walk to the side of my bed and sit down before I fall.

“So, how come?”

“Can you go?” I ask. I’m not well. My heart’s thumping in my ears.

“Have you seen the news about Farrah and me?”

“I can’t…” I shake my head. I don’t need to hear about Farrah Conner anymore. “Can you please leave?”

“There’s nothing going on between Farrah and me. Everything you’ve heard is a lie.”

“A lie?” He doesn’t realize I have pictures. Proof positive. “Just go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until we figure this out.”

“I’m done, okay?” I forget I’m not well and bolt to my feet. Huge mistake. I wobble and tilt, and if not for Noah, I’d fall to the floor.

“Are you okay?” His voice is trembly. “You’re sweating. You’re pale. What’s wrong?”

I close my eyes. Must be the stress. Google told me to take care of myself, or it could lead to problems. Well, here we are.

“Something’s wrong,” Noah states. “I’m getting you some help.” He gathers me up and walks.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The hospital.”

I protest when we reach the car and continue in earnest the rest of the way. It does me no good.

The car pulls up to the emergency entrance, and Noah’s on the move. Gets out and motions for me to slide his way.

“I’m all right, Noah. This isn’t an emergency.”

“We’ll let the doctors be the judge of that. Now, come on.” He leans into the car and takes my hand. “Please.”

There’s that little boy again. Poor thing.

I slide his way and get out.

He goes to pick me up.

“No… I’m walking, or I’m not going.”

He can see my resolve and loops an arm around my waist in case I should fall. “Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

My first step is a little shaky, but it improves from there. They must have somebody on watch inside because a nurse in uniform comes out pushing a wheelchair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answer.

“There is, too,” Noah says. “She’s hot and pale and can barely stand. You need to help her.” There might have been a shrill to his tone at the end of that sentence.

The nurse must’ve caught it, too. “Everything will be all right, sir. We’ll take care of her.” She takes my elbow. “Here. Sit down.”

“I can walk.”

“I need you to sit. It’s the way we do things.” She gives me a tight smile, and I give in. Plop down. “Thank you.”

She wheels me inside while Noah shadows us. We stop in front of the reception desk.

“We don’t have time for this,” Noah says. “You need to look at her right goddamn now.”

“Sir.” The receptionist. “We know what we’re doing. Okay?”

She waits for Noah to respond, and he does with a nod.

“Good. Now, miss. Do you have your insurance card?”

“Jesus Christ!”

I glance up and over my shoulder. “It’s okay, Noah. She’s just doing her job.”

“Her job is to make sure you’re all right.”

“Please, sir. The more you interrupt, the longer it will take for us to examine her. Do you understand?”

He breathes and nods.

“Now, miss. Back to the insurance?”

“I don’t have it on me. Don’t have anything on me. We left home in a hurry.”

“Look,” Noah says. “She nearly fainted, all right? She’s pale. Something is wrong. Can you please do something?” He takes his wallet from his pocket. Digs out some credit cards and an insurance card and lays them on the desk. “Listen, whatever it costs, I can cover. So, please, just look at her.”

“Okay, sir.” The receptionist nods at the nurse. She pushes me away.

“Thank you,” Noah says and follows.

“Not you, sir.”

Noah stops.

The receptionist points at a group of chairs. “Over there.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t,” she says and tells the nurse to stop. “Can you hold up while I get security down here?” She tilts her head at Noah and gives him a little smile. It’s as if she’s asking, “Do you really wanna fuck with me?”

Noah taps the counter and points at the chairs. “I’ll be over there.”

“Thank you, sir.” She gives the nurse the okay signal.

We move along.

I’m taken to an examining room with curtain walls. “So, what’s going on?”

I tell her I’ve been feeling off.

She checks my vitals. “Blood pressure is high. The gentleman said you nearly fainted, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“We should probably run some tests.”

“I might be pregnant,” I blurt. No sense trying to hide it from a nurse. If there is anything wrong with me other than that, I should probably know about it, for the baby’s sake.

“You’re not sure? Haven’t seen a doctor?”

“Not yet.”

“We’ll check it out, then, to make sure. You relax, and I’ll be back.” She gives me an easy smile. It’s comforting.

“Thank you.”

She leaves and pulls the curtain closed. Comes back five minutes later and draws blood. Leaves again, and a doctor shows up. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“So, I hear you might be pregnant. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“The nurse says you had a fainting spell?”

“Been a little dizzy lately.”

“Been getting enough sleep?”

“Not really.”

“Have you been eating properly? Have you eaten yet today?”

“Actually eaten? I’m not sure.” I started on a sandwich with Bobby, but I’m not sure I even took a bite.

“Nutrition is important,” the doctor says.

“I know.”

He puts on his stethoscope and listens to my heart and lungs. Writes something down on the chart the nurse left.

“I’m not seeing a lot here,” he says. “But you need more sleep, and you have to eat better. You’re taking care of two now.”

“I understand.”

“Okay. Good. The nurse will be back shortly. You have any questions?”

“No.”

“All right.” He nods at me. “Take care of yourself.” He walks out.

I sit for another ten minutes—that’s a guess because time’s been standing still since I got here—until the nurse returns.

“How are you?” She studies the chart.

“Fine.”

“Doctor say anything?”

“Sleep and rest.”

“Did he mention stress management? You need to be aware of that.”

Stress management? That’ll take some doing.

“I will be.”

“We have a lab downstairs, so we can get results pretty fast on certain things. They checked your hCG levels. They’re high. So . . .” She smiles and leaves me hanging.

Guess I don’t watch enough doctor shows on television because high hCG levels sounds ominous to me. “What does that mean?”

“You’re pregnant.”

I’m filled with a joy I haven’t felt until now. Her reaffirming that I am pregnant gives it a sense of legitimacy. My eyes well up.

“Are you okay?” The nurse rubs my back.

“I’m fine.”

“You’ll need to take better care of yourself.”

“I know.”

“I can get you the name of a top-notch obstetrician if you’d like?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

“Can I go home now?”

“Not yet. But soon.”

“All right.” The nurse turns to leave. “Is the man I came with still here?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“I’ll be back.” She walks away.

Noah hasn’t left yet. I wonder why? Is he here out of guilt? Does he still have feelings for me? I shouldn’t be thinking of the whys because they don’t matter. His future is mapped out with somebody else. He’ll be leaving once I walk out of this hospital.

I rub my belly. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.”