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The news hits me like a runaway freight train. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with a terrible dizzy spell. The room spins and the floor seems to fall out from beneath me. This is too much. I try to form a sentence, but my brain shuts off. My body reacts all on its own. Before I know what's happening, my vision turns black and my whole body feels like it weighs a ton as I crash to the floor.
* * *
When I come to, it's to the smell of disinfectant and filtered air. I squint against the soft lighting from the panels above, noting the scratchy fabric of the hospital bed beneath me. My vision is fuzzy, and I have a terrible pounding in my head. The artificial lighting makes it difficult to tell how much time has passed. For all I know I could have been out for days.
“What happened?” I croak.
Beside me, someone shifts. Charlotte. “Oh good, you're awake. You really had us worried there.”
“She's in stable condition,” the doctor says. She's busy inspecting my chart, her brows knitted together in concentration. “But your blood sugar was quite low. I’m waiting on a few more tests to come through in the meantime.”
Well, I already know what the tests will say. They will reveal a truth I’ve been holding on to for too long. But my man is not here. And I need him back. I need Leo awake so I can tell him. It can’t be too late. It can’t end here. Oh, god, I can’t do this alone…
I attempt to sit up, but my limbs still feel incredibly weak, like I'm working against twice the gravitational pull. “I want to see Leo.”
The doctor clicks her tongue. “Not until I get the rest of your bloodwork.”
“Just get me a juice box or something,” I urge, not wanting to waste any more time. “It was a freak accident, that's all.”
“Ms. Belova, I don't mean to concern you, but you are rather pale right now. I don't think it's wise to rush this process. May I ask how much you weigh?”
“About a hundred pounds, but that's perfectly normal for someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
“She's a professional ballerina,” Charlotte answers for me.
“Until recently, it was perfectly normal for me to be working out for eight hours a day, six days a week. But I always make sure to eat balanced meals. The Bolshoi even has an in-house nutritionist to make sure we're eating properly.”
The doctor nods her head. “And when was the last time you had your period?”
I hesitate. I understand the doctor is just trying to cover her bases so I answer, “Honestly? I'm pretty irregular. There are some months when I don't get it at all.” Which isn’t a lie. It wasn’t the absent period that got me into that pharmacy. It was the nausea. I never get nauseated.
“No doubt due to your intensive training,” she murmurs. “Ms. Belova, I'd like you to take a pregnancy test.”
“Is that really necessary?” Dammit, now’s not the time for this kind of reveal.
“As you said, you eat balanced meals and you have a very active lifestyle. I need to rule out all the possibilities in order to determine what caused your fainting spell. Is that alright with you?”
I shrug a shoulder. I've never been one to argue with a medical professional, but I might as well let her do this so I can get her out of my hair. I already know what it’s going to say.
“Okay, fine.”
“The test will be quick,” the doctor assures me. “I'll be right back.”
When the doctor leaves, I run my hands over my face, exhausted. Just when I thought everything was returning to normal, the world had to throw me one last curveball.
“How long was I asleep?” I ask Charlotte who had stepped out while the doctor questioned me.
“Only about an hour. The rest of us went to check on Leo.”
I set up right. “Is he—”
“Still comatose? Yeah.”
I groan, torn between crying and crying some more. “How did it happen?”
“From what Roman told me, he was letting someone off the hook. A guy who owes us a lot of money. There must have been a misunderstanding because the guy's wife shot him.”
