Page 65 of Fall Into You
When Parker comes back, he takes a seat next to me, scrolling and tapping away at the tablet screen.
“Right, here it is. Bed eleven,” he says, and I sit up straight, steeling myself for whatever may come. “‘Patient was found passed out in supermarket aisle,’” he reads. “‘Brought in because patient had trouble coming to. Possible concussion and dehydration.’ It says here that the doctor on call wanted to take a CT scan but didn’t because…” He stops and looks at me, wide-eyed, but doesn’t finish the sentence. “I—I think it’s best if we wait for her next of kin.”
“What?!” Is he insane? “Give that to me!” I practically scream and rip the tablet from his hand. I don’t fucking care if he fires me. I need to know whether she’s okay or not.
“Dr. Wilson, I hardly think that’s appropriate—”
But I don’t hear him anymore because I’m shocked. I can’t talk. I can’t think. I can’t fucking breathe anymore.
“Suspected concussion, but CT not possible. Patient is est. 6 - 7 weeks pregnant. HCG levels found to be at 7,500 mIU/mL. Suspect morning sickness as cause of dehydration.”
I sit back in my chair and look up at the ceiling, completely awestruck.
Pregnant.
Morning sickness.
It wasn’t the stomach flu.
MY FACE HANGSin my hands as I attempt to steady my breathing and try to understand how I feel about this whole situation. Parker left me a couple of minutes ago with her chart to give me some space to think, for which I thanked him.
Ababy.
It’s so soon.Toosoon? I mean, I obviously would have wanted some time for us to just enjoy each other before having kids, but I can’t deny that I haven’t thought about it. It’s kind of hard not to. When you decide you want to move in with someone, you think about what that means for your relationship long-term—and that includes marriage and maybe kids.
I love Liza, and I know this is all fast, but I feel like we’ve always been kind of fast, living by our own timeline of what we think is appropriate for our relationship.
So, do I want this kid? I drop my hands from my face and sit back in my chair, staring at my girl asleep in her hospital bed.
Fuck yeah, I want this kid.
I want everything with her. I always have. Since the moment I held her as we danced in her apartment, since the pumpkin patch, since the fucking vomit—okay, maybe not then, but I was definitely a goner by the pumpkin patch after lunch.
How willshereact, though? Does she even know? Did they tell her already? Was she in the supermarket buying a pregnancy test or something?
It’s so soon—I didn’t even notice the signs—but it seems so stupid now, so obvious. I mean, we’ve been having uninterrupted sex for seven weeks now—no periods or anything. And she just started feeling a little sick this past week. But finals and the stress of the fight with Vinny coincided, so I didn’t think much of it.
I should’ve noticed or suspected something. It’s my job to take care of people, and I can’t even take care of my girlfriend, make sure she’s eating or drinking water when she’s been so sick lately. How am I going to take care of a baby?
Shit, what kind of dad will I be? What kind of mom will Liza be?
She’s going to be amazing. She’s already so caring and loving, and family means everything to her. She will never neglect our children in any way—she’ll never be like my mother. I’m not worried about what kind of mom she’ll be. She’ll be the best mom in the world. She won’t be like my mother—cold, distant, unattached. Nope. She’ll be like Catterina, sometimes too involved in her children’s lives but incredibly supportive and understanding, loving and dedicated. And she’ll make them incredible Italian food every day. I’m not worried about what kind of mom she’ll be. She’ll be the best mom in the world.
Will we get married?
I wouldloveto marry her. To be honest, if I weren’t so scared she’d say no, that it’s too soon, I would’ve already asked her. It’s why I was planning on begging her to move in with me—so she’d at least be with me always.
I see a doctor I’ve never seen around the hospital making rounds and curse under my breath. I’m never gonna get away with getting information on her with some doctor I don’t know.
I pull out my phone and call Vinny one more time. Voicemail.
“Your sister is in the hospital, asshole! Get your ass over here!” I hang up in anger before realizing I didn’t even tell himwhichfucking hospital she’s at. I groan and lean back against the chair again. I’ll call him back in a minute. I need to breathe for a bit. I text my scheduling assistant and ask her to cancel all of my appointments for the next two days due to a family emergency.
After that, I lean forward in my chair and reach for Liza’s hand again, just staring at her while I imagine the next steps in our life.
“Hey.” I hear Vinny’s voice beside me and jump. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since he pushed me repeatedly against his mother’s kitchen counter and punched me in the face.Twice. “I got a call from the hospital saying Liza was here. How is she?” He frowns and walks over to her side, putting his fingers to her wrist, checking her pulse just like I did.
Would a normal person just walk up to their loved one in a hospital bed and do that? Probably not. We’re doctors; we can’t help it.
