Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Good morning,” the nurse says. “How are we doing this morning?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not fine. I’m the opposite of fine, but no medication can help me. I’m just happy my mother finally stopped fussing over me and went away last night. I didn’t want her; I wanted Emmett.
“Let’s get your blood pressure.” She walks to the side of the bed, and I lift my arm that had the IV in it until last night when they took it out of me. She slides the brown cuff up and then presses a couple of buttons, and I feel the cuff start to fill with air. “You didn’t eat anything.” She motions to the breakfast tray that they brought in a while ago.
“I’m not very hungry.” I don’t look at her, continuing to look out the window.
“Got to keep your strength up,” she advises, taking the cuff off me. When the door opens, the doctor comes waltzing in.
“Good morning, Lilah,” he greets me, holding the chart in his hand. “How are we doing?”
“Can I go home?” I ask, and he smiles at me.
“Looks like you can go home,” he reports, “but you have to rest.” I nod. “And I’m going to give you a couple of names for some prenatal vitamins.”
I turn and sit up. “I’m sorry, what?”
The doctor looks at me, confusion on his face. “Prenatal vitamins.” He shares a look with the nurse. “You do know you’re pregnant, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, what?” my voice repeats, going louder.
“I assumed you knew. When I came in the other day, I told you that you were both out of the woods.”
I shake my head. “I assumed that was about me and Sammy.” My voice gets even louder, and the doctor’s eyes look like they are going to come out of his sockets.
“How pregnant am I?” I put my hand on my stomach.
“About six weeks,” he says. “Congratulations.”
He turns and walks out of the room with the nurse following him. I throw the cover off myself, getting out of bed and wincing. I walk over to the chair and the bag my mother brought for me yesterday. I grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and head to the bathroom. I slip the hospital gown off me and slip one foot into my jeans, followed by the other. I’m careful not to touch where the bandage is on my side, which is wrapped all the way from the middle of my stomach to my back. Very slowly, I slide my T-shirt on, wincing with the pain but pushing through.
When I walk out of the bathroom, the hospital room door opens and Charlie comes in with Casey following him. “I heard that someone is discharged.” Charlie claps his hands together, smiling at me.
“We’ve come to take you home,” Casey declares, and I try to smile, but I just sit on the bed. “I’m going to take all the flowers in my truck.” He looks around the room at all the flowers I’ve gotten over the past two days. Flowers that were supposed to make me feel better, but I just hated seeing them.
They bring me a wheelchair, and after a couple of minutes of a staredown, I give in and sit in the wheelchair. Casey opens the truck door for me and holds out his hand, and he gingerly helps me in. I watch him walk around the front, getting in and looking at me. “You ready to go home?” Charlie asks, and I shake my head.
“No,” I answer, and his eyebrows pinch together. “Can you take me to him?”
Charlie exhales deeply, and his head hangs. “Please, Charlie, I—”
“The two of you…” He starts the truck and pulls away from the hospital. “Like, how much more can you guys take?” I don’t answer him. I just look out the window, but the answer is everything. I’ll take everything and anything for him as long as I’m with him.
We pull up to the house, and I see his truck parked there. “He’s not home,” Charlie says when I open the door. “He went riding.”
“Lucy?” I ask, and he smiles softly.
“We hired her to help with Billy,” he says with a smile, and I get out of the truck as slow as a snail. “Call us when you guys get your shit sorted,” he states before taking off. I walk up the steps toward the front door, then go over to the chair on the side of the house that he keeps there just for looks.
I sit down and hiss out when my side itches. I look out into the field, my eyes roaming the forest, looking for him. I don’t know if it’s minutes or hours by the time I see him coming out of the forest. He’s riding his black horse, and his back is straight as his hair flies in the wind. He doesn’t look my way, probably because he would never expect me to be here.