Page 27 of Never Really Mine
“Thomas,” I grit out. “Marley passed out, I’m at her studio, I don’t know what to do.”
“Shit,” he murmurs, and the sound of his cruiser picking up speed, and sirens echo through the call. “I’ll send out a dispatch for EMS. Is she breathing?” His tone has changed from playful to all business.
“Yeah, but she’s pale as fuck.” I place a hand over her chest so I can feel the steady beat of her heart, and the rise and fall of her chest. She’s still breathing. She’s still here. She’s okay.
“I’ll be there in five. Keep talking to her. She might just have low blood sugar or something.”
I swallow down my words, because I don’t know whether or not to tell him she’s pregnant. “Yeah.” I drop the phone from my ear, keeping Thomas on the line, but I do what I can to wake Marley. I fan her with my hand, say her name, anything. I can’t lose her. I can’t losethem.
What feels like hours pass as I wait for help to arrive. As the ambulance and Thomas’s police cruiser pull into the parking lot, Marley’s eyelashes flutter, a low moan falling from her lips.
“Wha—” she mumbles.
“Marley, oh thank god.” I push her hair back from where it fell over her eyes, leaning down to press an urgent kiss to her lips. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her eyes widen as I kiss her, and she tries to sit up, but I don’t let her move. She gives me an irritated grunt but doesn’t fight me. “I’m not hurt. I feel really gross, though.”
“Okay, help is coming,” I reply.
“Help?” her voice squeaks, brows furrowing. “What do you mean, help? I’m fine.” She tries to sit up again as the bell on the front door goes off.
“Beau?” Thomas calls, his footsteps heavy.
“Back here!” I call back. “She’s awake.”
“Oh thank god,” he says. Other voices fill the room as Thomas directs the paramedics to us. When he comes into view, he takes in our position, me sitting on the floor with Marley draped across my lap, her arm strewn across her face, covering her eyes. “Hey, Mar,” Thomas says with a small chuckle. “Felt like causing some trouble today, huh?”
Marley doesn’t move her arm from her eyes, only uses her free hand to flick him off.
Thomas chuckles. “You still have your sense of humor, so I think you’ll make it.”
“Why did you call them?” Marley groans. “I’m fine.”
I lean forward so my mouth is at her ear. “You’re pregnant, Mar. I’m not taking any chances.” When I pull back, I raise my brows. She nods in response.
A young paramedic kneels down next to us, pulling some items from her medical bag. “Hi, Marley, my name is Hannah,” she says. She looks young, probably in her early twenties, with blonde hair pulled into a slick bun and bright blue eyes.
She gets to work, taking Marley’s blood pressure, and sticking her finger to test her blood sugar. She asks her all about what symptoms she’s experiencing and reasons she could have passed out.
Marley gives her all the answers, except for probably the most important one, being that Thomas is here. He’s hovering over us, listening closely to every answer Marley gives. I can’t really blame him for sticking around, I called him in such a panic, and he loves Marley like a sister. He wants to make sure she’s okay. I, however, want him to get the heck out so Marley and I can be truthful about something major.
We move Marley into one of the loveseat chairs she has in the front waiting room of the studio while they check her over. I refuse to be over five feet from her at all times, so I’m sitting in the chair beside her, holding her hand.
Thomas meets my eye from where he’s sitting, and I give him a grateful nod. “I think we’re good, Tommy,” I say, looking down at Marley. “Unless you want him to stick around.”
She shakes her head. “Thanks for everything, Thomas,” Marley says emphatically. “I appreciate it.”
Thomas steps over, leaning down to pull her into a tight hug. “You let me know if you need anything, okay?” He points a finger at her. “You know I’m here for you, anytime.”
Marley nods. “Thanks, I will.” Thomas kisses her cheek and offers me a chin tip. He heads toward the front door, and oncethe click of the door behind him sounds, Marley lets out a deep breath, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you in pain?” Hannah asks, fretting over her. Her co-paramedic has been less than helpful, mainly standing behind and watching Hannah work.
“I’m fine, just really overwhelmed,” Marley replies. “I didn’t want to tell you this while Thomas was here, but I’m pregnant.”
Hannah’s mouth forms a little “o” of understanding. “Alright. I’m going to ask some different questions then,” she says, rattling off a whole new set of questions.
Ten minutes later, it’s determined that while Marley doesn’t need to ride in the ambulance, she should still go to the hospital. She’s been able to keep down some water and orange juice now, and her color is getting better. If Hannah hadn’t suggested going to the hospital, I would take her, anyway. I’m too worried something is wrong with her, or the baby not to.
