Page 75 of While You're There
“Well, he said she’d been trying to call him all night. And that she had tried to call him multiple times over the last few weeks. But I’m positive he didn’t know anything until he read her text.”
“Wow. That’s really shitty.”
Tori nodded her agreement. The fact that Chandler had been trying to get in touch with Rhett for weeks was cringe-worthy, given the reason for all her attempted calls.
He didn’t know. But he should have known.
“And you had to drive tonight because…” Jake trailed off and let the silence fill the space between them. This was the part she’d been dreading. More than the questions about the pregnancy. More than having to talk about the miscarriage. Confessing the depth of Rhett’s struggles to his best friend was such a gray area, especially because she hadn’t even had the chance to talk to Rhett about any of it yet.
“He had a lot to drink throughout the day. He couldn’t drive.”
Jake nodded at her before shaking his head to himself. The motion was so subtle that if she hadn’t been watching for his reaction, she would have missed it completely.
“This is going to hit him hard, isn’t it?”
It was a revelation disguised as a question. She could barely begin to wrap her mind around what this loss was going to do to Rhett. To his plans. To his dreams. To his struggles. To the enormous ball of stress and pressure that had been building inside him ever since she first got the call about her test results and selfishly laid so much of her own baggage on him to carry. This wasn’t just going to hit him hard. She knew with certainty this was going to break him. She just didn’t know when, or how, or what to expect amongst the rubble. How sharp would the pieces be when he finally crumbled?
“I can’t even begin to make sense of it. Jake, she was pregnant. With his baby. Rhett was going to have ababy, and next month, I’m going to have ahysterectomy.” She moved to wipe away the tears that had started to flow without her permission. She wasn’t the person suffering a loss tonight. She had no right to feel sorry for herself right now.
As if he could sense her pain even in his sleep, Fielding’s arm lowered and encased her. His fingertips brushed against her upper arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He shifted her body closer and held her as she continued to silently cry.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I know this sucks. And I know it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better. I’m here for you, though. You know that, right?” She nodded, not daring to meet Jake’s eyes through the rearview mirror again.
“You’ve gotta be exhausted. Why don’t you try and sleep a little? I’ll get us home safe. Where do you want to go? I can drop Field off at the Valet House if you want to crash at my place?”
She hadn’t thought about that until now. She shuddered involuntarily as she thought about going back to Rhett’s parents’ house and crawling into their empty bed. It would be easier to be alone without his scent on the sheets, without the constant reminder of who wasn’t there with her.
“Just drop me off at my house. I don’t think Rhett will be home anytime soon.”
Chapter thirty-one
Rhett
Helethimselfintothe apartment using the key fob dangling off Chandler’s pink pom pom key ring. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he made his way into the kitchen.
They had finally left the hospital just a few hours ago. Once the ultrasound tech confirmed what they all suspected, Chandler was discharged with nothing more than instructions to rest as much as possible and to schedule a follow-up appointment with her OBGYN to check that her blood levels were returning to normal.
He couldn’t believe that was it. They had waited in limbo for hours to just be sent on their way with an apologetic smile and a follow-up reminder. He had at least made a big enough deal about her pain to get the resident to write her a script for Vicodin. He couldn’t stand to think about her physically suffering any more than necessary after going without meds the previous day and night.
Rhett made quick work of putting away the groceries he had picked up, then dug around under the sink until he found a vase for the pink roses he bought. He knew it wasn’t much—nothing he could have done would be enough—but he needed to make as much of an effort as possible. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before picking up the pharmacy bag and letting himself into her bedroom.
“Hey,” she greeted him softly from the bed. He could just make out her shape under the covers. She was curled up on her side, her knees drawn up toward her chest and her arm wedged between her pillow and her damp hair. She must have taken a shower while he was running errands.
“Hey,” he replied as he made his way across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you? Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head and gave him a small smile. “I’m okay,” she said tearfully.
He knew she was anything but okay. He knew all the hopelessness and sadness festering inside him was nothing compared to what Chandler must be feeling. In addition to the emotional trauma of the miscarriage, she also had to deal with the physical pain of the loss. She was most definitely not okay. Neither of them were. But they were both trying. And he’d be damned if she wanted for anything while he was here.
“I picked up your prescription. Here, take it now, and I’ll write down the time and keep track of your next dose for you.”
Chandler sat up in bed and flicked on the bedside lamp before accepting the pill bottle and water. She sighed after she swallowed the medication. “I probably can’t go to work tomorrow. Nothing like calling off on your second week to make a strong first impression.”
“Don’t worry about that right now, Chandler. It’s not like you have a cold or a hangover. This is a big fucking deal. You’re in a lot of pain. The doctor said you could be bleeding for at least another week. You can’t drive if you’re taking Vicodin anyways, which you need to be taking right now…” he trailed off as an idea took root in his mind. “Can I take care of that for you? If you give me your supervisor’s email, I’ll let them know you need the week off.”
“I’m pretty sure having your ex email your new boss isn’t standard office protocol,” she quipped.
“I’ll send it from my work account. I can be surprisingly persuasive when I need to be.”
