Page 17 of Missing Marcus

“My husband?” Gabby whispered. She must’ve hit her head harder than she thought.

“Yes. I saw him a few minutes ago in the hallway, headed to the cafeteria.” The nurse smiled at Gabby as if everything was righted by her words, but instead, it turned hers upside down. “If you need anything, push the call button.” The nurse left her to eat her breakfast.

Gabby leaned over the bed rail and pushed with all her might. How did she get the stupid things down? Spying the latch, she leaned down between the cold metal bars and pushed the lever, making it fall on her casted arm. She hissed as she slid her arm out and let it fall. Pushing the table back, she threw her legs over the bed. Dizziness stopped her and she waited for the feeling to pass. Slowly rising from the bed, she threw open the closet to find a pair of warm lounging pants and a matching shirt. The tags still hung on the clothes, and she rummaged through the bag underneath and found panties, socks, anda pair of tennis shoes.

Fear made her tremble as she thanked the clothes goddess who brought her the comfortable outfit. Knowing Marcus spun up on a mission or stayed in the home she decorated out of love, she feared the person who tried to kill her at the exit might be there. Laying the clothes on the bed, she pulled the tags off the shirt with her teeth, desperate to escape before the stranger who spent the night beside her reappeared.

“Gabrielle.” The voice she longed to hear over the last few months echoed in her ear and paralyzed her simultaneously.

She placed the top on the bed, swallowed, and turned to see her soon-to-be ex standing in the doorway.

“How did you know I was here?” she whispered.

“The hospital called me. They said I’m listed as your emergency contact on your phone,” he explained as he set two cups on the table, one with coffee and the other with chamomile tea.

Gabby eased down onto the bed and held her head as it started to pound or maybe it came from her heart.

“I must’ve forgotten to remove your name. I’m sorry they called you. I’ll reimburse you for your flight. After all, I want to make sure I’m fair about it,” she replied, not bothering to hide the hurt she felt. Her chin rose, waiting for him to hurl hurtful words at her. What did it matter? In a few more months, she’d never see him again.

“Where are you going?” he asked gently.

“The doctor plans on releasing me today. I’m sorry I inconvenienced you.” Gabby avoided his gaze as she fingered the soft material of the outfit.

“Bryanna delivered the outfit. They cut yours off and I didn’t know where you stayed to pick up any of your clothes.”

Silence fell over the awkward moment.

Knight swore under his breath and moved a chair before her when she refused to meet his gaze.

He used his forefinger to tilt her chin and stared into her big brown eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

Water filled Gabby’s eyes as she rapidly blinked it back. “It’s not the kind of news I wanted to deliver through the lawyer.”

“Is it mine?”

Gabby jerked her chin away as the doctor walked in.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hutchins. Mr. Hutchins. Your vitals stayed stable all night. Can you tell me your pain level?”

Knight moved his chair to allow Dr. Webber to examine Gabrielle. He noticed she swiped her eyes before responding.

“My arm and shoulder hurt. What about the baby?” she asked anxiously.

“When we performed the ultrasound, your baby appeared perfectly fine. I spoke with your OBGYN. He’s concerned about your blood pressure. You’re still on the high side, but it’s expected after an accident. Rest, and relaxation will help. You’ll need a primary doctor visit concerning your arm and shoulder, then your OBGYN next week. If you don’t have any questions, I can send you home.”

“When can I return to work?” she asked, avoiding Marcus.

“After you see your OBGYN. He can make the call on your return date. Until then, I’ll send you home with a work excuse,” Dr. Webber assured her.

“Thank you.” Gabby waited until the doctor left before grabbing her clothes and heading to the bathroom. She washed her hands carefully, avoiding the cast from her elbow to her wrist. Staring into the mirror, she scolded her image.

“Do. Not. Let. Him. Get. To. You. You’ve made it this far, and you don’t need him,” she gritted out.

Taking the clothes from the handicap railing, she struggled to put on the socks and panties. Her shoulder felt as if it was ripped from its socket, and her arm throbbed. She glanced down and noticed her fingers appeared as tiny sausages. She bit her lip to stifle the whimper from sheer exhaustion and pain. A soft knock on the door made her raise her head.

“Why don’t I help you dress?” Knight asked her tentatively.

“No. I’ll manage. Go away,” she gritted out tearfully while trying to hide her baby bump. He didn’t deserve to see the miracle growing inside of her after questioning its paternity. The pain of what he accused her of sliced through her like a knife.

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