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What must be only a few minutes later, the door bangs open, and Raven is helping me sit up. “Come on. Let’s go to the ER. I’m not risking anything with you being pregnant.” I nod and do my best to help her get me off the ground. “Where is your bag?” She frantically looks around the apartment.
I shake my head and point to the open doorway. “Car.”
“Alright let’s go.”
Faster than what seems possible, Raven has me in her car, my bag on my lap with an empty garbage bag on top of it and she is speeding away towards the hospital. I can’t help but doze off and on, and soon my door is being opened and a nurse is standing there with a wheelchair.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you out of there. How are you feeling?”
She takes my bag and helps me out of the car. I am so lightheaded I almost fall as soon as I stand. Once I am in the chair, I answer her, “Exhausted.”
“Alright, well, we will get you checked out and find out what’s going on.” She pushes me into the hospital with Raven in tow. I faintly hear Raven filling her in on the phone call and the vomit she saw when she came in.
Who knows how long I have been here? But I have been poked and prodded and asked a billion different questions by now. I am so exhausted I might actually snap at the next person who asks me a question or touches me. Raven has been staying close by my side, holding my hand whenever she can. As the nurse leaves after setting up an IV, I let my eyes fall closed for a while.
“Presley,” someone says softly, lightly shaking my shoulder. I groan and keep my eyes shut. “Presley,” they say again with a light chuckle.
I crack an eye open to see a messy bun of pink hair right in front of me.
“What?” I ask, trying to wake up, slowly remembering where I am. I don’t even know how long I have been asleep.
“It’s only been thirty minutes, but the doctor wants to talk to you,” Raven says as she stands up straight again and sits in the chair next me to.
I blink and let my eyes adjust to the horrible fluorescent lights in this bright white room that smells stale. There is an older gentleman standing at the foot of the bed with a white jacket on. He has a clipboard in his hands that he is looking down at. His salt and pepper hair is just barely long enough to run your fingers through.
He glances up and sees me looking at him. “Hello, dear. I am Dr. Milton. I was on-call when you came in. How are you feeling?”
I make a face. “Like crap.”
He chuckles softly. “I’d imagine so. You are severely dehydrated. When you came in, your blood pressure was much too high. I’d like to have it checked again now that you have been resting, but dear, you are under too much stress. It’s clear as day to me. So, what can we do to relieve most if not all of it? Stress can cause other major issues with your pregnancy. Now, I am not trying to scare you. But your body can only handle so much, and right now, it needs to focus on growing that little human.”
Everything seems fuzzy as he speaks. I hear it all, but I just feel… I feel angry. Not even angry, I am pissed. Getting pregnant wasn’t a simple process. This baby is a miracle, and I am potentially putting them at harm because I can’t get a handle on my emotions and my stupid overthinking brain.
My thoughts go all crazy because I am so afraid to just trust my own judgment and let go of my past. The past is the past. I am not going back to it. It shouldn’t have a say on my life now.
Raven promises the doctor that she will keep an eye on me, and we will figure out how to lower my stress. He wants to get me hydrated and make sure I don’t vomit again soon, and then I will be discharged. At least I don’t have to stay here long.
As soon as he leaves, Raven turns back towards me and crosses her arms. “What happened? You scared the shit out of me. How come your stress got so bad? I thought things were getting better lately. And don’t lie to me! I care and want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t let me.”
“I just keep overthinking. Thingsarebetter. I like work, and I love my apartment. Axe and I get along, but I just can’t seem to shut my mind off. It’s driving me insane.”
“What are you overthinking about?”
“Ben,” I say simply, glancing away from what I assume is going to be a judgmental look. How can I not just get over him?
She scoffs. “Pres, I get it. He was in your life for a really long time, but fuck him.”
Not having expected that, I swing my head back towards her and she smiles at my wide eyes.
“For real. I want you to say it. Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve to have a single thought in your mind. You did the hard part. You got out and away from him when he fucked up instead of staying and trying to make it work when we both know he wouldn’t have changed. But now is the harder part. Letting him go. Saying ‘fuck him’ and living your best goddamn life, so he gets to feel guilty and regret his life choices over losing the best fucking woman I know.”
Tears glisten in my eyes. I don’t deserve her.
She leans forward and grabs my face between her palms. “Say it.”
“Fuck him,” I whisper, neglecting to tell her how he is actually still in my life with the notes, letters, and gifts.
“Sorry, what? Can’t hear you.”
