I gently lift her into my arms, following Will into the house. I rush into the kitchen, laying her on the table. Frantically, I root through a drawer for a clean towel before returning to Ivy’s side. I’m terrified of what I’m going to have to do next.
“Ivy, honey? Open your legs for me, okay? I’m going to have to try and stop the bleeding until they get here, all right?” I swallow hard as it turns into a steady flow, dripping onto the floor. She complies, her breathing ragged. There’s so much blood. I bite my lip hard. There’s no way she’s still pregnant. There are thick clots on her upper thighs, and I try not to look as I apply pressure to the towel to stem the flow.
“They’re on their way!” Will cries, running into the kitchen. He stops dead when he sees just how bad things are. “Umm…do you need me to do anything else?” He runs his hands through his hair, not even realizing they’re covered in Ivy’s blood. It’s everywhere—on him, on me, on her.
“No, just get out!” I yell at him, and he hastily departs.
This isn’t something he should be a part of. There’s no place for him here. He brought this to our doorstep. We were done with Lauren and he had to bring her back into our lives. I should’ve never encouraged Ivy to work on that damn screenplay. Just look at the havoc it’s caused. It’s probably going to cost us our child.
Ivy’s face is white as her eyes roam across the ceiling, guessing the magnitude of the situation. She’s conscious but she’s miles away from me. Her body’s rejecting what our love created. If only she’d stayed in bed. Why the hell did she have to come to the door? At this point, I don’t care who Cassidy slept with. It’s not important. That part of my life is over whether I like it or not. This second chance is what I dreamed of, hoped and prayed for on my knees, and now it’s being taken away from me too. A shudder runs through me as I try to contain my emotions. I can’t break down in front of her. I have to be strong, just until I can be alone. She didn’t have to protect me from Cassidy. She already saved me from her.
I hear the wail of the ambulance pull up as Will directs them inside. I pray that somehow it’s not too late. Somehow they’ll be able to save our unborn child. Ivy shouldn’t have to go through something like this. I’ve already experienced the loss of a child. I know what it feels like, and I should’ve done everything in my power to spare her such a fate. I should’ve put my foot down. I should not have let her go to L.A. I should’ve slammed the door in Lauren’s face when I saw her coming.
But now it’s too late.
I watch helplessly as the paramedics transfer her body onto a stretcher and rush her out of the kitchen. I follow behind them blindly, not even reaching for a coat and forgetting about my wallet and keys. My only thought is about her and how I’m going to get her through this.
My baby. My sweet, precious baby…
My fingers find the corner of the hospital bed sheet as I stare at a pumpkin decoration hanging on the wall. Oh yeah, today’s Halloween. I almost forgot. With everything going on, I lost track of time. I remember thinking about what I was going to dress the baby up as next year. I’ve always loved those fuzzy lamb costumes. But now there might not even be a baby. I scrunch up my face to keep from crying. I don’t know how there can be. I lost so much blood.
After being rushed to the city hospital twenty miles away, the doctor stemmed the bleeding and conducted a barrage of tests. Eric is sitting motionless beside me as we wait to hear the results. It doesn’t look good. One of the nurses even gasped when she was cleaning me up.
Eric isn’t saying much either. Besides repeatedly asking if I’m okay, he remains pretty stoic. This has to be hell for him to have to go through this again. I’m young. I’m strong. I’m healthy. I can’t understand why this is happening. I hate not having control over my own body. I didn’t mean to get so upset this morning, but I couldn’t let Eric find out about Cassidy. It was up to me to protect him, and I failed. And now he’s shutting himself off from me. I can feel it. And I’m powerless to do anything about it in this state.
I study his profile. He has a far away look in his eyes like he’s zoned out to where I can’t reach him. I thought he’d be angrier, but he’s not. He seems more defeated, like someone took the wind out of his sails. It pains me to see him so listless, so lethargic. It’s like he’s closing in on himself, his spirit drained. And it scares me because this must have been how he looked after Cassidy died. Those months when he shut out the world and retreated into his anguish. I don’t want that to happen again. I’d do anything to bring him back to me—to restore his hope, to make things okay. I just don’t know how.
If he’s shutting me out, then I have to make amends. I put our baby in jeopardy by stepping onto that porch to confront Lauren. I was aware that what I was doing was dangerous. I should have stayed in bed. But I didn’t want her to be the one to tell him about Cassidy. He needed to hear it from me. I would’ve been able to find the words to soften the blow. Instead, Lauren ambushed him.
The whole thing just makes me so mad. I could have prevented this, but I didn’t think she’d act that fast. We were only home a couple of hours before she went on the attack. Sure, she’s vindictive, but she’s not crazy. She plans her every move well in advance. She could’ve tortured me for months, hanging it over my head. But she didn’t. She struck hard and she struck first, not her usual approach.
She must really have a lot to lose. It’s the last card she has to play and she dealt it early in the game. She’s desperate to maintain some kind of tie to Eric, but he’ll never forgive her for this, especially if I end up losing the baby. What possible satisfaction could she get out of it? I can’t believe she’s that sadistic that she would take such pleasure in our pain.
But forget about Lauren and her twisted schemes. I need to get Eric to talk to me. He’s way too quiet, and I’m worried about him. I have to find out what sort of thoughts are running through his head. He can’t keep everything locked inside. As far as our baby is concerned, we’re in this together. He can’t shoulder the burden alone. We have to be there for each other, not run in opposite directions.
“Eric?” I shift my head on the pillow, my eyes pleading with him to look at me.
“Not now, Ivy,” he reprimands softly.
“But we have to talk about this,” I insist, pushing myself up into a sitting position.
“Lie back down.” He gets to his feet, his hands immediately on my shoulders, urging me back under the covers. “You have to stay calm. Don’t go getting yourself all upset again.”
“But you have to talk to me. You can’t keep on sitting there like this isn’t happening,” I protest as he pulls the blanket up to my chin, tucking me in.
“Let’s wait and hear what the doctor says before we start jumping to conclusions and getting all excited.” His hand caresses my hair, giving me hope that his gruff exterior isn’t directed at me.
“But if—” I almost utter Lauren’s name, but his penetrating gaze stops me.
“Don’t, Ivy. Just don’t,” he warns me before retaking his seat. Placing his head in his hands, he sighs deeply. “Not here, at least. I want you to focus on yourself and not worry about all this other stuff, okay?”
“I didn’t want her to be the one to tell you—” I try again, but I fall silent when the door swings open and the doctor enters, examining my chart.
“Well, Miss Thompson. It seems like you are one lucky lady.” I didn’t catch his name before. I was too distracted by the transvaginal ultrasound he was conducting. But his name tag says Patel.
“I’m still pregnant?” I ask, my voice just above a whisper.
“You are,” Dr. Patel beams at me.
Eric jumps to his feet, and it’s kind of a funny moment as he wraps the tiny man in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground. Flustered, he shuffles his paperwork, trying to regain his bearings after Eric puts him down.
“Oh, Doc, I’m so sorry. It’s just—” Realizing his overabundance of enthusiasm, Eric quickly starts to apologize.
“It’s quite all right,” the doctor says, straightening his glasses, already endearing me to the warm tones of his Indian accent. “It is a happy day, but we’re not in the clear yet.”
“What do you mean?” Eric questions, his demeanor abruptly changing.
“All things considered, I detected a faint rhythm that could be the baby’s heartbeat, but it was weak and I wasn’t absolutely certain.” Dr. Patel holds out his hands, sticking the chart under his arm. “However, I just got the results of the hCG levels back from the lab and they’re normal, indicating that the fetus is still alive. Miss Thompson did not miscarry.”
“That’s wonderful news,” I respond breathlessly, still not quite believing it.
“But when will you be able to check the heartbeat again?” Eric brushes by the bit of good news, eager to know more.
“Possibly as soon as next week,” Dr. Patel grins encouragingly.
“But you’re sure the baby’s still in there?” Eric questions, placing his hand upon my belly.
“Yes, hormones don’t lie,” Dr. Patel responds, winking at me.
“But what’s causing all of the bleeding and why does it keep happening? Is the baby in some kind of trouble?” Eric asks, not taking his eyes off the doctor as I cover his hand with mine.
“Worst case scenario? It could be a placental abruption,” Dr. Patel answers.
“What is that?” I prod, squeezing Eric’s fingers. It doesn’t sound good.
“There might be a large blood clot at the edge of the placenta, but I’m not sure. We’re going to have to do more ultrasounds as the baby grows in order to be certain,” he advises, glancing at me then at Eric. “But that’s only if the bleeding continues.”
“And if it does?” Eric takes a gulp of air, trying to maintain his composure.
“We’ll monitor the flow and if it’s accompanied by any contractions. My main concern is that I don’t want the placenta to detach completely before we’re able to deliver the baby,” Dr. Patel explains. “If we have to do an emergency C-section, I wouldn’t want it to happen earlier than twenty-two weeks.”
“But what about Ivy? Is her life in danger going forward with this pregnancy?” Eric’s leg starts to twitch, shaking the side of the bed.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat things, Mr. Young. If the placenta detaches while the baby is in utero, both the mother and the baby will be at risk.” Dr. Patel steps forward to place a hand on each of our shoulders. “From this point forward, until I have a clearer picture of what’s going on, I’m going to order that Ivy goes on pelvic rest and stay away from any heavy lifting.”
“Pelvic rest? Does that mean what I think it does?” I frown, waiting for him to confirm my suspicions.
“No sex,” he says, pointing his finger first at me and then at Eric. “You’re to refrain from any activity that might irritate or infect the cervix or the uterus—anything that might cause any unnecessary trauma. No more baths. No more exercising. I’d like you to relax with your feet up as much as possible. While I’m not restricting you to complete bed rest, I don’t want you moving around unless you absolutely have to.”
“No sex?” I mutter, ignoring everything else and focusing on the thing I can’t be without.
“Ivy!” Eric reprimands, obviously embarrassed.
“I’m afraid not,” Dr. Patel chuckles while checking his watch.
“Damn,” I groan, sinking back into the pillows.
Eric shakes his head at me but doesn’t say anything.
“I have marked here that Dr. Teller is your OB-GYN. But since I was the perinatologist on call today, if you would like me to take over your case, I would be more than happy to do so.” Dr. Patel retrieves a business card from his front pocket and begins writing on the back. “I’m giving you the number of my pager so you can reach me at any time. I would feel better knowing that you remained my patient because I specialize in this area, and I want to make sure you receive the kind of care you need.”
Eric’s eyes meet mine and I know we’re on the same page.
“Yes, Doctor. We would like that very much.” I nod as he hands Eric his card.
“Excellent! When you get home, call my office and we’ll set you up with a follow-up appointment for next week. And we’ll listen to the baby’s heartbeat. How does that sound?” Dr. Patel grins, clicking his pen.
“That sounds great, Doc. Thank you.” Eric gets off the bed to shake his hand.
“And if the bleeding gets to be too much, if it fills a pad completely or if it starts and it won’t stop, come straight to the emergency room and call me once you get here, okay?” Dr. Patel asks, encompassing us in his steady gaze. “Until then, get some rest and take it easy. No stress. No worries. Think positive. This baby is a fighter, a champion. I can’t wait to bring it into the world.”
His remark causes both Eric and me to smile as he steps out of the room and moves on to the next patient.
“I really like him,” I exclaim, releasing the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
“Yeah, me too,” Eric says, dragging his chair closer to the bed.
“Except for the no sex part.” I can’t resist teasing him.
“Ivy—”
“I know…I know. But consider yourself warned. After this baby is born, you won’t be able to keep my hands off you.” I grin at him, trying to make light of the situation.
For a moment, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he lifts my hand to his lips, kissing it as he closes his eyes. He knits his brow as he draws in a ragged breath, and I see how much he’s taking what the doctor said to heart. I can’t have him thinking this way. I can’t.
“Eric, look at me,” I command, easing my thumb along the top of his hand.
When he finally does, his eyes are filled with fear. Oh God, why is this happening? Why couldn’t I just have a normal pregnancy? Why does my stupid, messed-up body have to torture him like this?
“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” I say, fiercely, gripping his hand. “I’m not going to die.”
“You don’t know that,” he responds as adamantly as I’ve ever seen.
“Listen to me. We don’t even know if there’s anything wrong with the placenta.” I lean forward to grab a fistful of his shirt. “The bleeding might even stop, and it’ll all be fine. All I know is this baby is going to be born when it’s supposed to, and that’s all there is to it.”
He stares at me for a solid minute, his chest expanding and contracting rapidly. He doesn’t want to argue with me, even though he doesn’t agree. He’s never going to have a moment’s peace, knowing that my life is potentially in jeopardy. It’s like reliving his past all over again. The exact type of situation I never wanted to put him in.
“I’m not sick, Eric.” I do my best to encourage him. Anything I can do to rekindle his faith. “I don’t have cancer. I’m not dying.”
“But if we get to the point where it comes to risking your life to save the baby’s, I won’t go through that again. Do you hear me?” he demands as his eyes pierce through me with such sadness. “We’ll end the pregnancy, and we’ll try again another time.”
“I promised you that you would never have to be alone again,” I say shakily. “And I’m not leaving you. No matter what.”
I feel my tears mixing with his as I pull his lips onto mine. It’s a heady kiss full of trepidation and angst and frustration. He breaks away first, choking back a sob as he releases me.
“I know it probably sounds heartless and selfish after the lengths Cassidy went to,” he continues, trying to keep his tears in check in order to say what he has to say. “But it’d be like sacrificing my life as well. I barely made it through something like this once. Please don’t ask me to do it again.”
“Eric—” I groan, not knowing what to say.
“If we find out there is a tear in the placenta this early in the pregnancy and there’s nothing that can be done, then all we have is a waiting game, hoping it doesn’t rupture until we reach twenty-two weeks.” He reaches for my arm, urging me to look at him. “If that’s the case, we’re terminating the pregnancy, and I don’t think anyone would blame us.”
“Of course not,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. “But Eric, when it comes down to it, I don’t think I have it in me to abort this baby. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“But you’d have me live without you?” The raw anger in his voice fills the room.
“Let’s not cross any bridges before we get to them, okay?” I try to soothe him and defuse his anxiety.
“Ivy, you can’t pretend like this isn’t happening. I’m not going to play the ‘what if’ game with you. Because it’s not a game. It’s a situation with dire consequences, and I’m not losing you. I’m not!” he exclaims, sweeping back his arm and knocking a box of tissues off the bedside table.
“Is everything all right in here?” a nurse asks, knocking before opening the door.
“Yes,” I somehow manage to respond.
“Because I heard some yelling in here and Dr. P. told me that no one was to get you agitated,” she says, glaring at Eric.
“That’s fine because I was just leaving,” Eric remarks snidely, brushing past her.