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“No,” she says, looking away from me. Her eyes dart. Uncertainty engulfs me.
“Are you sure?” I ask when she looks at me again. I can’t read her. Is she looking at me accusingly, or is that guilt?
“Yes.” She flinches, a result of her high-pitched squeak, I think. Or was it because of something else? Realization? Comprehension? Fuck, I don’t know. Has she replaced all the pills I took? Has she been taking them if she has replaced them? Because now I’m thinking about it, I can’t recall seeing her take any pills.
“I’m just asking,” I say, feeling all eyes on me, all eyes except Ava’s, who suddenly can’t bring herself to look at me. This is fucked up, and despite wanting to press, I don’t.
“What do you remember?” Kate asks.
I pace as I watch Ava avoiding me, shaking her head, not sharing anything that might tell us why she collapsed. Sam tries to jog her memory. It doesn’t work, Ava constantly and consistently tells us she can’t remember anything. I don’t like this. None of it.
“Why is everyone making such a bloody fuss?” She’s getting frustrated.She’sgetting frustrated? I muscle my way past Sam, fuming, and take her hand. “Ava, it is four o’clock in the fucking morning.” Fuck me, I feel like I could pop. “You’ve been out cold for nearly seven hours, so don’t youdaretell me not to make a fucking fuss.”
Her widening eyes is a sign of comprehension. Good. Maybe now she’ll understand why I’m fit to burst.
The nurse enters again and gives all of us a tired look. “It’s one visitor in the room. You need to leave.”
I feel Kate look at me, assessing the pros and cons of leaving me to be the one visitor. Like she has a choice.
“We’ll go and get something to eat.” She and Sam leave together, and the nurse gets to work on taking Ava’s blood pressure once again. I’m tempted to ask her to check mine, because I’m sure I’m in heart attack territory.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asks as she leaves. Ava accepts. I decline, sitting beside the bed and clenching Ava’s hand, dropping my face. The room is silent. But so loud, with so many questions screaming to be answered. The only sounds are my heartbeats and Ava’s breathing, which changes. I peek up, finding her snoozing again, and then to the door when it knocks. A doctor appears, a different one than who’s stopped by a few times in the night. He nods at me, and I’m about to start demanding answers when Ava stirs, and his attention goes to her.
“I was told you were awake.”
Ava looks between the doctor and me, probably checking my current state.Still stressed, baby. Still stressed.
He introduces himself and asks how she feels, his full body and attention facing Ava’s way, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s had a warning about me. I’m pretty sure there were a few times in the night when staff thought they might have been forced to call security.
“I’m fine. My head is banging,” she says, her voice tired. “But other than that, I’m fine.”
Fine? She isnotfine, and neither am I.
The doctor smiles, friendly, checking Ava’s eyes with a pen light. “I’m glad. What do you remember about last night?”
I watch her, my patience fraying even more when she shows intolerance. “Not a lot,” she says, sounding bored. I squeeze her hand, trying to encourage more from her, but only get another harsh look thrown at me.
“You are?” the doctor asks. I feel him studying me.
“Husband.”
Ava’s gaze becomes questioning as the doctor looks at his notes. “It saysMissO’Shea.”
“We get married next month.” Ava doesn’t protest. Whether that’s through lack of desire or energy, I couldn’t give a fuck.
The doctor accepts this and gets back to what’s really important here—why Ava has been unconscious for over seven hours. “We ran some routine tests on your urine.” He pulls a chair toward the bed and sits. “When was the date of your last period?”
“A week-ish ago.”
He nods, while I observe how uncomfortable Ava is, my mind fogging, my head bending, my body becoming stiffer by the second as the doctor talks. I hear nothing. Then I hear...something.
“You’re not pregnant.”
“I’m not?” Ava blurts. She’s surprised. She thought she was?
“Well,” Doctor Manvi says, casting a glance my way. “I say you’re not, but if it’s only been a week since your period, it may be too early to tell. Do you use the contraceptive pill, Ava?”
Fucking hell.
