Page 126 of Before We Break

I hear Callie’s voice on the other end of the line asking what’s wrong before the line goes dead. Lexi doubles over, clutching at her stomach. Hayden’s a ball of nervous energy in the backseat, his face buried in his palms.

I have to stay strong for them.

I reach across the console and squeeze Lexi’s hand. “It’s going to be ok.”

It’s probably bullshit, but I don’t have a clue what to say in this situation.

She chokes on a sob. “I’m getting blood all over your truck.

“I don’t give a single fuck about my truck, Lex.”

The rest of the drive passes in silence, hope dwindling with each mile that passes, like a slow-acting poison bringing us one step closer to a heartbreaking conclusion. Lexi’s dress is soaked in tears and blood, and she’s clutching my hand like a lifeline I’m woefully unqualified to give.

I pull up to the emergency wing and throw open my door, rounding to Lexi's side. Her eyes are closed now, uneven breaths escaping as the tears dry on her cheeks. Blood is pooling on the seat, and her skin is hot to the touch.

I toss Hayden my keys. “Park the truck and meet us inside. Lexi. I’m going to carry you.” I don’t know if she hears me, but I slip my arms under her knees and carry her in through the automatic doors.

Clio is sitting at the check-in desk, tear-stained and pale. She turns and rushes toward us at first sight. “Lexi. Oh god, Lexi.”

Lexi slowly opens her bloodshot eyes. “Mom.”

The nurse Clio had been talking to comes around the corner with a wheelchair, and I gently set Lexi inside. “I’ll come get you when they’re ready,” she says. “It shouldn’t be long now.”

“I already filled out the paperwork,” Clio explains, kneeling in front of Lexi. She cups her face and rests their foreheads together, tears streaming down their cheeks.

They don’t say anything for several long moments, and I stand there wishing I could do something, anything to take away their pain.

Hayden comes through the doors and stops dead in his tracks when he sees them. They both turn.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what happened. We were just dancing and then⁠—”

Strong as hell, Clio embraces him. “It’s not your fault.”

He falls apart in her arms, repeating the words ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.

Her palm runs up and down his back. “Shh. It’s ok, Hayden.”

When he finally lets go, Lexi reaches for his hand. He lowers to her level and kisses her forehead, stroking her hair back. For two dumb kids who got themselves into a hell of a situation, they’re both so goddamn strong.

I pull Clio into my arms and cradle her head against my chest. She bands her arms around my waist, clutching my shirt.

“Thank you for taking care of my baby,” she whispers in a watery voice. “I should’ve been there.”

I cradle her face in my palms and stare into her green eyes. “I’ll always be there for her.”

The nurse returns a short while later. “I’m sorry. Only one of you can accompany her for now.”

Lexi looks up at Hayden through pleading eyes. He bows his head and nods. “It’s ok. I know you need your mom. I’ll wait here.”

Clio squeezes my hand one last time. “Take care of him, Noah. He’s her world. That makes him part of mine, too.”

As soon as they’re out of sight, Hayden’s back hits the wall, and he sinks onto the floor, burying his head in his hands and heaving out violent sobs. I've never been particularly good at comforting people. My dad was so emotionally stunted he drove himself to his own death after my mom died.

Even if there is comfort to be found, it won’t come from my empty words, so I crouch in front of him and squeeze his shoulder. “Whatever happens, Lexi’s going to make it out of this, and she’s going to need you.”

He lowers his hands and looks at me through bloodshot eyes. “What do I do? I can’t fix this for her. I can’t bring them back.”

We don’t know for sure that she miscarried, but based on the amount of blood alone, it’s a foregone conclusion. We’re just waiting for confirmation from a medical professional. I don’t know if it makes it better or worse that Hayden’s already assuming the worst.