“Hi, ma’am. Looks like you’ve had a fainting spell, okay? We’re on our way to the hospital.You’re gonna be just fine, but your blood pressure is a little low, okay?” I have no way to answer with the oxygen mask covering my face. I motion towards it, and the middle-aged paramedic removes it.
“What’s that, dear?” I can barely form the words, motioning for something,anything.
“I-I’m going to be–” Like a light bulb, the paramedic figures it out, and just in the nick of time. A plastic bag with a clampable rim appears in front of my face when I start retching…again. Liam immediately moves closer to me, pushing hair out of my face so it doesn’t fall into the vomit. Not that much makes its way up. Just more foul, yellow bile.
“This happen often, dear? The fainting?” I look at Liam, then back to the paramedic.
“Just once before.” I drop my gaze, feeling ashamed that somehow this only happens when this man stomps all over my heart. It’s not helping that I’m sick, haven’t eaten, or taken my antibiotics today. Which makes me feel even more shame. I’m not taking care of my body how I should. Silas was right to scold me yesterday. I need to do better.
“Do you remember what happened last time? What caused it?” Liam moves in closer, placing a supportive hand on my thigh and slipping the other into my free hand. I don’t care enough to try and free myself from it right now.
“I passed out, and fell and hit my head. Did I hit my head this time?” I panic, looking from Liam to the paramedic.
Liam finally breaks his silence. “No, you didn’t. I was there to catch you.” At least there’s that small bit of relief. I don’t need to destroy what little semblance of calm that’s been restored by telling him another head injury could aggravate the existing one, causing miscarriage or other problems.
“Oh, okay, good. Well, um, it was brought on by a combination of things last time. I’m anemic,” Liam looks surprised.Yeah bud, you’ve missed a lot.“And I’m pregnant, and under a lot of stress lately…” I trail off, not needing to rehash it.
“I have strep throat. I haven’t eaten since Saturday night. I didn’t take my antibiotic this morning and It’s been a rough start to the day. I’m sure I’m just dehydrated. Do we really think the hospital is necessary?”
“Yes,” Liam and the paramedic both say at the same time. I tilt my head back and close my eyes as the nausea starts again. The only perk of being so distraught last time is I was too distracted for motion sickness.No such luck now, though.
The hour-long drive down the mountain is relatively uneventful. As long as you consider me dry-heaving every ten minutes uneventful. Liam seemed to improve with each mile as Ideteriorated, so by the time we get to hospital, I’m begging for a bag of fluids and some pain meds for my throat that has already started hurting again.
After triage, I get hooked up to an IV as Liam paces back and forth at the foot of the bed in the small, curtained room. The nurse looks at me, then him, and asks, “Sir, what’s your relation to the patient?”
“He’s just my–” I don’t get to finish saying “father of my baby” because Liam cuts me off.
“I’m her husband.” My eyes widen in shock and horror, but he gives me a stern look in return, telling me to shut it. Luckily the nurse misses it because they’re focused on getting the fluids hooked up.
“Alright, you’re all set. The attending physician will be in in a bit to check on you, but just a heads up, we’re a bit backed up with all the heat-related illnesses, you know?” I just nod.Sure, whatever.Liam softly thanks the nurse, then comes to sit on the bed facing me. I look over at the chair in the corner that he could’ve taken, but he doesn’t catch the hint, so I lean back and close my eyes.
His hand slips into mine, his fingers threading with my cold ones.
“Jesus, Britain, you’re freezing.”
I shiver slightly. “Yeah, it’s cold in here, but also…” I motion up to the bag.
He just nods, then moves to sitinthe bed beside me, covering me with blankets and pulling me into his warm body. Just like the other night. “Sure you want to get this close? I might get you sick.” I don’t say it in jest. There’s part of me that wants him to move, but also that desperate little girl in the back of my mind that wants him to stay. He threads our fingers together again, cementing his position.
“I don’t care.” It’s quiet for a couple minutes before he starts again, “We need to talk, baby.”
I nod, knowing it’s true. I can’t keep having these explosive events every time I see him. “It hurts to talk right now.” Physicallyandemotionally.
“Then just listen. I’ll talk,” he says. “First, I just want to say I’m sorry. For what I said back at my mom’s. I, uh, implied some really shitty stuff, and I didn’t mean it. Idon’tmean it. Just hearing you were with him was hard for me. I did not handle it well.”Same. Yeah, me almost wrecking my car and ending up in a hospital after I saw him with Gina isn’t me handling it well either. I just nod to see if he’ll keep going. And he does.
“I will never lie to you, Britain. I promised you. I know I haven’t been the best, or what you deserve, but I willneverlie to you.” I don’t think I can believe him, but I stay quiet to see where this goes. He tells me about the phone conversation and overhearing Matt yell at me. About how he punched Matt and tells him about me screaming his name. I cringe. He tells me about getting the stitches fixed and then drinking half a bottle of scotch on the drive home.
“And I was really wasted, but I am telling you the truth that nothing was going to happen. I had literally just told her to get her shit and get out of my house when you walked in. She was picking up her clothes.”
“I’m not as dumb as I look, Liam.” I rasp out when he pauses.
He takes my face in his hands. “You are not dumb, you don’t look dumb. I’m telling you the truth. I was wasted and acting slow because I was sad and all I could think about was you and Matt having sex.” He searches my face, and then his expression changes with realization. “I’m nothim, baby. I promise.” Yeah, the whole fucking your assistant thing hits a little close to home.
I whisper out, “You keep making these promises…”
He nods. “Yep, every single one I intend to follow through on. You want me to fire Gina? Done. You want to go through my phone? No problem. You want access to the Nest cams? Too easy.”
“That’s not how you build trust.” I look up into his eyes — my favorite eyes — and say, “I don't trust you…but I also can’t stop loving you.” He looks like he might cry. I know Iamcrying.
