Page 84 of The Last Thing
I groan as I fall to the bed beside her, not wanting to pull out of her yet. She’s still breathing heavily as she runs her fingers through my hair and kisses me. My eyes are only half open, but I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer as I deepen the kiss.
“Mm,” she mumbles against my lips.
I hold her tighter, but she wriggles against me. “I need to get up. Clean up.” I groan in protest, but she kisses my cheek. “The doctor said it’s important to prevent infection.”
Reluctantly, I loosen my grip, and I’m rewarded with another kiss.
“I’ll be right back.”
I peel my eyes all the way open just in time to watch her naked ass strut away. Flopping onto my back, I stare at the ceiling. Hearing her say my name like that was?—
“Wilson!”
I leap out of the bed and tear across the room at the sound of her panicked voice.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
She’s sitting on the toilet, shaking, with tears in her eyes.
She holds up a piece of toilet paper with a pinkish-light red tint.
Oh, fuck.
Okay. Breathe. Calm. Think.
“Is there anything bright red?”
She shakes her head.
Okay, that’s good. I think.
“It’s been a while since I read up on all this, but it’s probably just some spotting after sex. I think I remember that being a thing. Try to stay calm. We’ll go to the ER and get you checked, just to be sure.”
She looks up at me, utterly broken.
“What—what if?—”
I lift her off the toilet and carry her back to the bedroom. I set her down and take her face in my hands. “It’ll be okay.” Tears stream down her cheeks, and I push all my fears away. I need to take care of her right now.
All I can do ispace.
Back and forth in this tiny room.
It’s better than the waiting room we were in for two hours.
Hallie was intermittently crying for the first hour or two, but now she’s just sitting in the little hospital bed, an oversized gown hanging off her body. Thick white blankets cover her legs, which are pulled up to her chest. She’s resting her chin on her knees and staring blankly at the wall.
She won’t talk to me. She’s almost catatonic.
They came in and drew labs and ordered an ultrasound. We’re waiting on the results of the labs and for the ultrasound technician.
I’m not convinced this is the worst-case scenario, but it’s still scary as fuck.
My stomach is in knots, but I’m in dad mode. Compartmentalizing. That’s what has to be done when everything else is falling apart and I have to be the reliable one.
I’m thirty-one and still wish for an adultier adult sometimes, but as a dad, unfortunately, I’m usually the adultier adult.
“This is why I don’t do love.”
