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That there was warm liquid between her legs, she also registered.
No, she thought. No. No. No.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” a man who appeared to be in his early twenties asked from outside her shattered driver’s door window. She glanced at her busted windshield, at the shattered passenger door window, at the SUV that was where the front of her car should be.
She glanced down, realized her steering wheel was against her chest, that she couldn’t see the lower half of her body.
“Ma’am?”
She turned back toward the driver’s window, opened her mouth to tell the young man that no, she wasn’t okay, that she couldn’t feel her baby moving, and to please do something, but nothing came out. She was still trying to tell him as her eyes became too heavy to stay open.
So she closed them.
* * *
Charlie made his way toward the heart failure unit at Vanderbilt University Medical Center. He’d consulted on a patient that morning prior to heading over to teach a class to second year medical students, and wanted to pop his head back in to check on the woman before seeing his scheduled afternoon patients.
His stomach rumbled as he passed a food cart.
The food didn’t smell that appetizing, but his stomach was lodging its protest that he had once again forgotten to eat lunch.
Had he eaten breakfast?
He honestly couldn’t remember. Every day ran into the next and they all seemed the same. They all seemed lackluster. They all seemed to be missing something.
Maybe it was him missing something.
Or, more accurately, missing someone.
Savannah.
His throat tightened just at her name consciously passing through his mind.
He’d not talked to her. Not a single time. He’d decided staying away altogether was best.
He’d thought about her, though. A lot. Almost all the time.
He also thought of their baby, despite doing his best not to think of the life he and Savannah had created. How could he think of anything else?
He was going to be a father.
He knew nothing of being a good father. Nothing.
That Savannah would be a good mother wasn’t even in doubt. She would be an excellent mother, just as her mother had been. In that respect, their child had hit the parenting jackpot. Savannah would do everything she could to give their child a good life.
As would he.
After her ultrasound, he’d contacted his realtor, told her he wanted to pull the house off the market, then he’d had his lawyer take care of everything else.
Savannah and their child would have a nice home in a good neighborhood. She wouldn’t have to worry about providing a roof over her and their baby’s head. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything financially. He’d see to that. If she wanted to stay home and raise their child, she’d be able to.
It was the least he could do since he couldn’t be with her.
Guilt hit him.
Guilt he shouldn’t be feeling. He was taking care of her. In a much better way than if he was physically there because he wouldn’t be making her miserable, making their child miserable. He wouldn’t be standing in the way of her happiness.
He was doing for her what his father should have done for his mother. He was letting her be free so she could live her life without being encumbered with a man who would eventually resent her presence and destroy who she was. Not to mention the damage he could do to a child’s mental and emotional stability.
