Page 182 of Josephine and Clay

It isn't him. Of course it isn't.

Tessa. Penny texted me. Are you okay? Are the babies okay?

I stare at the message while Penny shifts guiltily in her seat.

“I texted her from the waiting room,” she admits. “Don’t be mad.”

The strange thing is, I’m not.

A few months ago, somebody sharing private medical information about me would’ve sent me into a deeply organized spiral.

Now the thought of Tessa worrying about me somewhere outside this room feels unexpectedly comforting.

I type back slowly.

Josie: We’re okay. Both heartbeats are strong. They’re monitoring me for a bit longer.

The typing bubble appears immediately.

Tessa: I’m coming.

Josie: You don’t have to.

Tessa: I know.

Penny leans sideways to read over my shoulder. “She’s coming anyway?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That's good.”

I set the phone down carefully. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Let people take care of me without feeling guilty about it.”

Penny’s expression softens. “That’s because you think support works like a bank loan.”

I would argue, but unfortunately she’s right.

Twenty minutes later, the door opens, and Tessa slips into the room carrying Hailey’s infant seat in one hand and an overstuffed tote bag in the other.

Her eyes land on me instantly. “Oh, thank goodness.”

The relief in her voice breaks me far more effectively than the pain ever did. The fact that she was scared for me.

“I’m okay,” I say quickly. “They’re okay too.”

Tessa moves straight to the bed. “Both heartbeats?”

I nod.

“Strong?”

Another nod.

Her eyes shine instantly. “Good.”