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“Of course. The baby comes first. I won’t miss any appointments,” I agree quickly.
“Let’s talk about what you experienced today. You had a complication of gestational diabetes, known as hyperglycemia, or elevated blood sugar. It can be a serious condition, so it’s good that you acted fast and came right into the hospital,” she explains.
My pregnancy had been easy up to this point. Now, a wave of worry washes over me. Whether or not the doctor intended to scare me, she’s done an excellent job of it.
Ethan reaches over to take my hand and squeezes gently.
“What does this mean for Liz and the baby?” he asks. “What can she do to prevent this from happening again?”
I hear the unsteadiness in his voice, and it increases my worry.
Dr. Landon’s face softens at our looks of concern. Her eyes are flooded with kindness when she looks back at me. “We’ll need to monitor yourblood sugar, make some dietary changes, and you’ll possibly need medication. The good news is there are ways to mitigate the risks, and with proper care, you can go on to have a healthy pregnancy. I’m setting you up with an appointment tomorrow at my office. We’ll go through all of this in detail.”
There’s a crushing weight on my chest.
There are people in the room, but I still feel so alone. Why is this happening to me?
As though sensing my sadness, Ethan squeezes my hand again. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Ethan’s calming presence makes me feel a little better . . . at least for a minute. Then I remember . . . I remember he thinks I’m lying about the baby and wants nothing to do with me. I wonder how long he will stick by my side.
He seems sincere now, but that’s because he was scared by what happened in his condo. We were friends once, and I know he doesn’t want something terrible to happen to me. Once everything calms down, he’ll run away just like he has before.
If there’s one thing I know about Ethan Anders, it’s that he can’t be depended on to stay around. And after what he said to me in his condo, I’m happy to let him run. I did my part in telling him about the baby. If he doesn’t believe me, that’s his problem.
Dr. Landon wants me to stay the night for observation. I’m relieved because that means I don’t have to go home alone.
How depressing is that thought? This news shakes me more than I’ll admit out loud.
After Dr. Landon gives some final instructions and says goodbye, I turn to Ethan. “Could you please give me my cell phone? I’d like to text Lana and Jess. I’m sure they’d like to know what happened.”
“I already called Jake and told him you won’t be at work tomorrow. He, Lana, and Jess rushed right over. They’re all out in the waiting room. I’ll have them come in if you’d like.”
I’m surprised that he thought to do that for me. It goes to show you that he can be thoughtful when he wants to.
A hesitant smile forms on my lips. “That would be nice. Please send them in.” He turns to walk away, but I stop him. “And Ethan? You can go ahead and go. I appreciate you being here, but I won’t need your help any longer.”
He’s facing the door, hand wrapped around the door handle when he responds. “I’ll return in the morning to drive you to your doctor’s appointment.”
“I appreciate it. But like I said, I won’t need your help any longer.” I hope he doesn’t hear the tremor in my voice. He doesn’t know how his leaving will affect me. Again.
When he looks back at me, his face is devoid of emotion. “Is that what you want, Liz?”
Ethan’s question hangs in the air. I don’t have to search hard for an answer. Of course, I want him to stay. I want him here with me. To have someone like Ethan by my side, holding my hand, giving his support, that would be a dream. But it’s not real. I want more than temporary affection brought on by a scary situation.
He thinks I’m a liar, a scammer even. He thinks I’m lying about the baby.
I gather my thoughts before speaking and try to steady my voice. “Yes, that’s what I want. It’s best if we cut ties now.”
Ethan’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nods and turns away, leaving the room without saying another word. The door closes with a finality that is deafening.
I strained to hear his footsteps walking down the hall. I can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time I’ll see him. He’ll probably disappear again. He’s made it clear that he has no plans to stick around.
He doesn’t care about me.
He doesn’t care about the baby.
When we first got together, he made it clear that he’d never want a permanent relationship. At the time, I didn’t either. I stupidly thought that might change over time if we ever got to the point of wanting more. Now I know his heart never healed, even after all these years. And I don’t think it ever will.
