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“He’s downplaying it. It only opens once every three years,” Ed offers. “I’m surprised you’re not talking about it.”
“That’s because I’m not going,” he finally says. “I’ll miss the baby’s delivery. That’s more important than anything else.” He squeezes Susan’s palm reassuringly.
“So you’re just giving up on it?” Susan says, withdrawing her arm.
Artie shakes his head. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s just not what I want right now. I want to be here, with you, for the baby.”
“It’s still not right,” Susan says, shaking her head.
“You’re thinking way too much,” Artie says. “This is what I want.”
Susan sighs. “I’ll go work on the edits upstairs.”
“You can just use my laptop,” Artie nudges. “I’ll help sync your Google account on my laptop.”
“I—just, no,” she says. The chair scrapes back as she gets up and leaves. She heads for the stairs.
“Susan,” I call out from behind. She’s definitely upset with me.
She begins to turn around, her eyes meeting mine for a split second, but then her foot slips on the edge of the staircase. Time seems to slow down as I watch her lose her balance, unable to reach out in time to prevent her fall.
My heart skips a beat as I see her tumble backward, her body descending in an uncontrolled motion. Panic surges through me, and I instinctively move forward, desperately reaching out to catch her, but it’s too late.
With a thud and a sharp cry of pain, Susan lands on the stairs, her body crumpling in an awkward position. The sight is both distressing and terrifying, and my mind races with worry.
I rush to her side, my hands trembling as I reach out to help her up. “Susan, are you okay? Can you move? Does anything hurt?”
She groans in pain, her face contorted with anguish. “It hurts.”
My brothers and I gather by her side. She clutches my arm and with the other, tugs at Ed’s arm. Her eyes widen in fear. “The baby,” she says urgently.
My heart drops down to my stomach. “We need to get you to the hospital. Let me carry you.”
“Just be careful, please,” she says. The desperation in her voice tugs at my heart.
She nods, her face pale and strained. I scoop her up in my arms, being careful not to move her too much.
“Am I bleeding?” she asks.
“No, you aren’t,” I say.
As I carry her toward the car, worry consumes me. I can’t help but blame myself for not reaching her in time, for not preventing her fall. But now, my focus is on getting her the medical help she needs.
Once we reach the car, I carefully place Susan in the passenger seat, ensuring she’s as comfortable as possible. Her pain is evident, and it breaks my heart to see her in such distress.
The drive to the hospital feels agonizingly long, each passing second stretching into eternity. My thoughts are consumed by worry, replaying the accident over and over in my mind, searching for any way I could have prevented it.
Finally, we arrive at the hospital, and Ed quickly parks the car. With Artie’s help, I get Susan out of the car.
As we sit in the hospital waiting area, Susan’s worry about the baby becomes palpable. I can see the fear in her eyes, and it tugs at my heartstrings. She clutches my hand tightly, seeking comfort and reassurance.
“I’m so scared,” she whispers, her voice trembling. I notice that she doesn’t direct her words to any of us, and rather is talking to herself. “What if something happened to the baby? What if the fall harmed it?”
My own anxiety surges, but I try my best to remain calm for Susan’s sake. I squeeze her hand gently, attempting to offer some solace in the uncertainty.
“We don’t know what happened yet, Susan,” Artie says softly. “But the doctors will take care of you, and they’ll do everything they can to make sure the baby is safe. We just have to stay positive and trust that things will be okay.”
The minutes stretch into an agonizing wait, and I find myself constantly glancing toward the entrance, yearning for a doctor to appear and provide us with some answers.
