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“It hurts,” Rachel sobs while she strokes her belly. “It hurts so much.”
“You need to call Alex and find Seth,” I tell Lucas while running around the car toward the driver’s seat.
“No fucking way,” Lucas says while shaking his head. “I’m going with you.”
“No the fuck you’re not.”
Lucas looks at me as if he’s about to punch me. “Why the fuck should I find Seth? He’s been ignoring all our calls and messages. He doesn’t care.”
“He does care, Lucas,” I say angrily, “and I’m not going to waste my time here talking to you when I need to get her to the hospital. Go find Seth. This could be his baby. He has the right to know what’s going on.”
Lucas groans and I watch him stalk back into the house with his phone. Good. Nice to know he’s going to do the right thing. I throw myself into my car and shove the key into the ignition. Rachel’s sobbing has dwindled down to whimpers. I wonder if she can see. Is she dying? If she is having a miscarriage… can it kill her?
I push those thoughts away. I know nothing about pregnancy. The doctors will be able to find out what’s wrong with her. I pull out of the driveway more recklessly than I should and speed down the road toward the closest hospital.
“It’s going to be alright, Rachel,” I say as I drive. “I’m right here. We’re going to figure this out, okay?”
She bobs her head. Her hands are still on her belly.
“Can you see at all?”
“Everything is so blurry,” she croaks.
“Okay. I’m getting you to the hospital. Let me know if it gets worse.”
She nods again.
I can’t believe this is happening. She seemed fine on our way home from the doctor’s office. Wouldn’t they have found something wrong with her during her checkup? How could they just let her leave? Rachel did seem irritated, but I thought that was because Lucas was driving her crazy. Did the doctor say something she didn’t like? I should have gone with her and had Lucas drive Alex to the airport. He knows how to drive. This could be my baby. I’m the one who should be going to the appointments with her.
I pull into the hospital parking lot in the emergency area. The ambulances are probably meant to go here. My bad, but this is an emergency. Rachel could be dying, or she could be losing the baby. Both could be happening.
I run around my car and throw open my door. I gently pry her out of the car and help her into the hospital, ignoring looks from patients sitting and waiting patiently. As soon as we enter, I’m greeted by that hospital smell—of soap and antiseptic. I clench my jaw as I recall the times I went to the hospital with my mother, recalling how she looked so weak from the chemotherapy, how she lost all her hair. I remember the brave smile on her face and how she twiddled her fingers at me.
“Everything will be fine, Hunter,”I remember her saying.
And then she died and I wasn’t there for her. She died in this very hospital with no one by her side. All alone. She was supposed to be fine. They said they got all the cancer, and then it came back and took her from me.
And I wasn’t there.
My arm around Rachel’s shoulders tightens and I pull her closer to me. I will never make that same mistake twice. I’m with Rachel now. I will never leave her side. She will be okay. This time I will ask all the right questions. I won’t let them overlook any tests. I will go into debt if need be, so long as I can keep Rachel with me for the next fifty years.
“Hello,” I say to the receptionist, my voice sounding breathy to my ears. I can barely feel my tongue, can barely think of the words I need to convey. “We have an emergency. My girlfriend is pregnant and she’s having trouble seeing.”
“I’m having pain in my right side,” Rachel sobs.
The receptionist’s eyes widen and she lurches for a clipboard next to her and shoves it in my direction. “I’ll call the doctor at once. Fill out these papers. We’ll have someone with you as soon as possible. What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Rachel Miller,” Rachel says shakily.
I snatch the clipboard and help Rachel into a seat in the far corner, away from all the curious gazes. She cries quietly while I stand and fill out the paperwork. I can’t sit. Honestly, I want to pace back and forth. How long has it been since we got here? I feel like it’s been hours when it’s probably only been about five minutes.
“Rachel Miller,” a nurse calls.
I haven’t even filled out all the paperwork. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure I will have time while they are running all their tests. I help Rachel stand and help her toward the nurse, who looks just as worried as me. That’s definitely not a good sign.
“How long have you been in pain?” The nurse asks while she guides us down the hallway.
“Just today,” Rachel says while wiping at her tears.
