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“Blue, stop.” Harris attempts to help me.
“No.” I swat him away. “I can do this.”
Truthfully the physical pain is a welcome distraction.
“You shouldn’t be putting weight on it until we know the extent of the injury.”
“It’s fine.” My throat starts to constrict as a dry heave pushes to the surface.
I cringe and hiss every step of the way, but I manage to make it to the bathroom across the hall in record time. I no more than get the door shut and make it to the toilet before every single thing in my stomach comes spewing to the surface.
——
“Well, look at the brightside. At least it was just a sprain.” Harris reaches over the center console of his car and squeezes my hand.
“Yeah,” I agree, keeping my gaze focused out the window.
By the time we left the hospital it was well into the evening. Rush hour has cleared for the most part and the city seems a bit quieter than usual.
“And no crutches.”
“Thank goodness.” I sigh, not able to bring myself to look at him.
“Are you hungry? I could swing by and grab some carryout before we head to your house.”
“No, that’s okay. I just want to go home and go to bed.”
He hesitates and I can feel his eyes come to the side of my face for a brief moment.
“Is everything okay? You’ve been quiet ever since they brought you back from x-ray.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. They gave me some pain medication that made me pretty tired,” I lie, knowing they never gave me anything at the hospital.
“Gotcha. That stuff never agrees with me either. I’d rather be uncomfortable than a zombie.”
The rest of the ride home is silent. As much as I hate it, I can’t think of one single thing to say to him. How do you tell the man that you’ve been sleeping with for the past three weeks that you’re pregnant? Let alone that you’re pregnant with another man’s child? Even if this relationship has an expiration date, it doesn’t make the situation any less messed up.
Harris insists on helping me inside even though I tell him repeatedly that I’m okay. Truthfully I’m grateful for the help, even if I didn’t want to accept it.
“You sure you don’t want me to hang out? I can make you something to eat while you rest,” he offers as he lowers me to the floor so I can unlock my door.
“No. I appreciate the offer but I really just want to sleep. I’ll see you at work, okay?” I push open my door.
“Okay.” His eyes dart back and forth between mine like he’s trying to figure something out.
“I’ll see you later.” I press up and lay a kiss to his jaw. “Thank you for taking care of me today.”
“You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“I will.” I nod, giving him the best smile I can muster before hobbling over the threshold, and closing the door behind me without another word.
Snapping the deadbolt in place, I turn and lean against the door. The feeling of it hard and cool against my back is a welcome sensation as I slowly slide to the floor.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I hug my legs to myself. Even though my ankle protests the position, I don’t let go. I slowly start to rock, something I used to do all the time as a kid. Whenever I was scared or upset about something, I would sit like this and for whatever reason, rocking always calmed me.
Unfortunately, my old tricks don’t seem to be working. No matter how hard I rock, nothing can keep the emotional breakdown I’ve been fighting for the last two hours at bay.
I finally break and once the tears start pouring, I’m fairly certain they may never stop.
How could I let this happen?
And the more important question is... what am I going to do now?
