Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?” I murmur, squatting so we’re eye level.
“I…” She glances at the woman. “I’m okay but…” The tears welling up in her eyes spill over. “I don’t know if the baby is,” she whispers.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine. “It’s going to be okay.”
“You’re just in time,” the woman says. “We were just about to do an ultrasound to see what we’re working with.”
I notice she’s wearing a white lab coat, and when she twists slightly, her name badge reads Dr. Michaels.
She looks at Paige. “Are you okay with him being in the room?”
“Yes,” Paige says. “He’s the dad.”
“Okay, I’m going to go grab the machine, and I’ll be back in a moment.”
“What happened?” I ask once the doctor leaves us alone.
“It was all my fault,” Paige cries, shaking her head. “You told me not to wear heels—”
“Hey, hey, stop. You look sexy in those heels. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I tripped,” she mutters. “My heel got caught on something, and I fell. My stomach hit the corner of the desk,” she sobs. “It hurt so badly.”
“Paige, this isn’t your fault,” I tell her, hating that she’s blaming herself. If something is wrong with the baby, she’s never going to forgive herself. “People trip all the time. Even if you had been in the safest tennis shoes possible, you could’ve tripped.”
“But I wasn’t in the safest heels. I was in tall heels. If something happened to our baby—”
“Stop,” I tell her, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. She lays her head on my shoulder, and I hold her the best I can from the side. “No matter what that ultrasound shows, this wasn’t your fault. Shit happens. But we’ll get through it together.”
She looks up at me, and I kiss her soft lips that are tinged with salt from her tears.
“I missed you,” she says.
“Not as much as I missed you.”
“How long are you here for?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her phone buzzes from next to her on the bed, and I sit back.
“Why did Ana call me?” I ask.
I assumed it was because Paige hadn’t had access to her phone, but she obviously does.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” she admits with a frown.
“What?” I hiss. “Are you serious? You fell. In what universe did you think calling me to let me know what happened would be considered bothering me?”
And then it hits me. “Did I do something to make you think you couldn’t call me?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s just…you’ve been busy. You’ve barely called the past couple of days, and when we did talk, I could see the stress you were under. I didn’t want to add to that, especially without knowing what’s going on.”
She rests her hand on her protruding belly. In the week and a half that I’ve been gone, she’s grown more, her bump even more pronounced, and I can’t wait to see all the ways her body changes as she grows our baby.
“It feels like you do that a lot,” I say with a sigh.
“What?”
“Take my choices away from me. You didn’t call me because you didn’t want to bother me, but did you think about how I would feel, not knowing? Had Ana not called me, I would’ve been at your house, surprising you with dinner, while you’re in the hospital, worried about our baby. The same way you keep telling me where I should and shouldn’t live and whether I should be with you.”
She swallows thickly, and I hate that we’re having this conversation right now, but it’s one that needs to be had.
“You told me that your dad didn’t talk to you after your mom died. He moved you to another country without considering your feelings. He took your choices away, and you didn’t like that, did you?”
She shakes her head.
“Neither do I. I’m never too busy for you, Paige. Never. You understand that?” I pinch her chin and look into her eyes, which are filled with sorrow. “I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. You come first. Always. Don’t take my choices away. You and this baby are my world. Let me in, please.”
She nods in understanding, and we’re both quiet for a moment before she breaks the silence.
“What if I lost the baby?” she whispers, fresh tears filling her eyes.
“Don’t think like that,” I say, squeezing her hand. “There’s no use in thinking the worst.”
“But it hurt. And…I’d rather prepare for the worst.”
I don’t agree with that logic, but since that’s her way of thinking, I go with it. “If something happened to the baby, we’ll handle it together.” With the hand that’s not holding hers, I palm her cheek. “It’s you and me, for as long as you’ll have me. I came to Rosemary for you. You being pregnant was merely a bonus.”