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“I called three OB-GYNs. I can’t get in to see any of them until the middle of next week.”
His teeth ground together as tension gripped him. “There’s not going to be anything left of you next week, Ari.”
He exaggerated, of course, but I was equally concerned that the scale had moved in the wrong direction. The weight I’d gained from the Thanksgiving and pre-launch festivities at the Lux had melted right off, along with several additional pounds.
“Maybe I should try someone in Phoenix?” I wondered aloud.
“Actually, I have a better idea.” He polished off his portion of the steel-cut oatmeal he’d made for us and then said, “My aunt’s an M.D. She used to work at the hospital, but left to open a private practice, of sorts.”
My brow rose as I glanced at him across the table in the kitchen. “Of sorts?”
He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s legitimate. She really considers it more of an inpatient rehabilitation retreat. Four bedrooms—all with private bathrooms—so it’s quiet and conducive to individual care. She has nurses on-staff twenty-four-seven and contracts with physical and occupational therapists. Those are mostly the types of patients she deals with, though she takes on others. And has specialists to treat them. Currently, she only has three patients who live on-property. If she hasn’t filled it, that leaves one bedroom available.”
“You mean … I’d move in?”
“Yeah. It’s a fully accredited, certified facility. Although that word doesn’t do it justice—sounds too clinical. It’s really a beautiful place,” he insisted. “About as big as this house, but bright. Cheery. Less … Gotham.”
My gaze narrowed.
“Just sayin’,” he muttered.
“I don’t want to leave here.”
“What’s the big deal?” he demanded with a serious expression. “You won’t go toward the back of the house. You won’t go into your dressing room or bedroom or even your bathroom. You sleep on the sofa, and to tell you the truth, I’m getting all kinds of bent out of shape and kinked up from crashing in a chair in there.”
“No one said you had to stay with me,” I reminded him. “You know where the door is.”
His scowl deepened. My gut clenched. I didn’t want him to leave, honestly. I didn’t want to be alone. My dad had gone back to work after taking the week off to be at the hospital. He still came by at night for dinner, but Kyle had packed a bag and designated himself my new shadow.
I was grateful. Deeply comforted, even. But I didn’t like him criticizing the fact that I preferred he leave most of the lights off. And I forbade his cleaning the glass in the living room. He’d swept the shards into small piles but resisted the urge I knew he had to remove them.
“Why don’t you just drive out with me?” he suggested. “Give it a chance before you shoot it down. It’s peaceful, surrounded by red-rock canyons. You’d have people around you who know what the hell they’re doing and can help you through this.”
My stomach took the opportunity to clench tightly—a now-familiar sign of what was to come next. I shoved back my chair and hurried into the bathroom, giving up my oatmeal before I’d digested it.
After brushing my teeth, I returned to the kitchen. Kyle was doing the dishes. I’d given Rosa an extra two weeks of paid vacation while I adjusted to my more delicate condition and still assessed who I could tell about the baby. I hadn’t even mentioned it to Mr. Conaway, and he was one of the people Dane had assured me I could trust. After the bombing of the Lux, I had the very distinct and terrifying view that anyone was capable of anything, if properly motivated.
So mum was currently the word.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check it out,” I said of Kyle’s aunt’s medical retreat. “Especially if she can help me with the morning sickness or get me an appointment with an OB-GYN a bit faster.”
“My immediate concern is how ghostly you look.”
I couldn’t combat that without lying. And the torment in his eyes broke my heart further. So I forced myself to finally go into the dressing room, thinking I might as well pack a suitcase in the event Kyle’s aunt still had space available to take me on and I opted to stay.
When I was finished, I stood outside the door of mine and Dane’s bedroom, not overwhelmingly compelled to enter, but I wanted one last peek before I left indefinitely. Just to keep the memory of it in my mind and to soak up a little of his essence that permeated the space most reflective of him.
From an end table I collected the last book he’d been reading, Dickens’s Great Expectations. Pressing it to my chest, I felt a razor-sharp pain slice through me. Dane’s voice filled my head as I thought of us stretched out on the sofa in front of the fireplace while he read his favorite novels to me.
Fat drops pooled in my eyes and my knees felt a bit wobbly. I sank onto the edge of the bed and pulled in deep breaths. I ran a hand over the soft, bronze duvet, the ecru sheets.
I frowned. Took a closer look.
Flannel.
My brow furrowed.
I’d told Dane I liked them in the winter. But these were not the sheets we’d slept in the night before the med
