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“Tying you up, that’s what I think I’ll do.”
I blink at him. I wasn’t expecting that.
34
Kate
September burns by in a blur of a waning Manhattan summer, and one night late in the month I wake in knowing immediately that something has disturbed me. I blink into the darkness, listening. The room dips as I make out the fuzzy shadows of the window and my chair, whispers of a dream, of a tattooed man, still dancing through my brain. I hold my breath, but apart from a car on the road outside, it’s completely quiet. I shift slightly and something feels off—there’s some damp sweat and stickiness—and as I turn over, my stomach clenches. I frown, leaning up to switch on the bedside light as I throw back the covers. I look down, and oh my God, there’s the blood on my crotch, bright red on my pajamas and the sheet. I place trembling fingers on the fabric, trying to … oh God. I lift my hips, looking at the mattress. That’s not just a little, is it? I squeeze my eyes shut.It’s blood, Kate. You see it every damn day.
I stick out a shaky hand and grab my phone from the nightstand, pressing Fabian’s number.
“’lo.”
“Fabian.” My voice comes out so goddamn shaky.
“Kate! Are you okay? It’s 3 a.m.”
“I don’t know, I don’t … I’m bleeding.”
“Bleeding?”
My chest constricts.He was so delighted. “The baby, I think I’m … “
He lets out shaky breath that tickles my ear, and I hear rustling as he says, “Fuck, Kate, hold on. Hold on. Oh Christ. I’ll come straight over.”
He hangs up on me.
I stare at my phone for a beat. I should call my ob-gyn, but I’ll just get the out-of-hours service and what will they suggest? Probably going to the ER, and at least I know the people at Bellevue. And if something is wrong … shit, I know all the things that can go wrong. Nope, I’m not risking this. I press the buttons with trembling fingers for 911, looking at the blood caked on one nail. The lady asks me questions about where I am and how much blood. “I’m a medical intern,” I say, even though she doesn’t ask. “It’s a decent amount.”Blood always looks worse than it is.“Someone will be with you right away,” she says. “Stay on the line.”
“Liss, Liss!” I shout.
I pause, pulling in a shaky breath, but the only sound is the distant rumble of a car and the woman at 911 talking to the ambulance center. Liss won’t wake up with me calling. Fumbling with the phone again, I tell the 911 lady I’m hanging up to call my roommate and I’ll call straight back. I press Liss’s number, and it rings and rings in my ear before she answers groggily.
“Kate?” she sounds confused, not surprisingly. I’m in the next room and I’m calling her.
“I’m bleeding, Liss.”
“Shit! Where are you?”
“I’m in my bedroom. I thought the phone was the best way to wake you up.”
“Yeah. Shit.” I hear rustling down the phone, and then her door opens in the apartment, soft feet padding along the corridor to my room. Then she appears, red T-shirt and black curls in a wild disarray, and I slump backward onto my pillows, throat tightening as I take in her sleepy concern. Her eyes widen as she takes in my pajamas and the bed.
“Oh, shit, Kate, is it bad? What can I do?”
“I don’t know how bad yet.”Calm. It could just be a small bleed.
“I’ll call an ambulance.” Her gaze moves to the phone in her hand.
“I’ve done it, but I need to call them back.” I press the button again.
“Shit, but you’re good.” She grins at me, and it brings an answering one to my face as my eyes nip in at the sides, watering.Friends. Holy crap, how glad am I to have these people. I put my hand on my stomach. I wanted this so much and … I blink and blink and blink.
Liss sits quietly while I explain the situation to the operator again and she checks her records. “They’re not far away now,” she says.
“Have you called Fabian?” Liss says when I finish talking.
I nod. “Can you get me a pad? I want you to take my blood pressure. There’s a blood pressure monitor in the cupboard under the sink in there.”
