Obsession (Addiction Duet Book 2)

by Vivian Wood

  She looked up at him. “So you’re not mad?” she asked. “Honestly. Just tell me if you are, because I don’t think I’ll be able to get together the courage or strength to have this conversation all over again.”

  “Of course I’m not mad,” he said. “I’m excited. And terrified, and worried, and a shitload of other emotions I can’t even name right now.” It was strange but it felt right to so blatantly tell her the emotions that pulsed through him.

  “You’re terrified?” she asked with a small laugh. “I’m so scared sometimes I can’t even move. Seriously, every little decision I make now, I’m like, is this what the baby wants? I’ve been trying to figure out the best prenatal vitamins to take for two weeks.”

  “You’re not taking any?”

  “I am,” she said. “I finally just picked the ones with the best and most reviews on Amazon. They’re organic. I mean, aren’t most vitamins? I don’t know.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Not really,” she said. “I mean, there are doctors at rehab, so I guess so. I found out in the hospital. With the blood tests they were running for other things.”

  “This is crazy,” he said with a small laugh. “A good crazy, but still. I have to say, when you walked into that tattoo shop and asked for a tramp stamp, this isn’t where I thought we’d be a few months later.”

  “Hey!” she said with a laugh. “I thought you said it wasn’t a tramp stamp.”

  “I never said that, sweetheart,” he corrected her. “I said there’s nothing wrong with tramp stamps.”

  “Oh, god,” she said. “What are we going to do?”

  “Most people, since the beginning of time, have had a baby,” he said. “If they can figure it out, we certainly can.”

  “You sound pretty confident about that,” she said.

  “I am. But there’s one thing I know for sure.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re going to make a kind, intelligent, gorgeous baby. How can we not since it’ll be half you?”

  She smiled up at him. “Like I said. Pretty confident.”

  “And pretty scary.”

  “Yeah. That, too. But you’re right. If billions of people can do it, we can probably swing it.”

  “You know what this means, right?”

  “What?”

  “You’re totally going to steal Sam and Connor’s thunder.”

  She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “I’m just teasing. They’ll be thrilled. And Sam is going to throw you one hell of a baby shower.”

  “I don’t even want to think about that right now. God, I’m so tired.”

  “Tired from therapy or the baby?”

  “Probably both,” she said with a groan. “But telling you helps alleviate some serious weight.”

  22

  Harper

  Harper stared at the ceiling while Sean slept peacefully beside her. She ran her hand across her stomach, but felt nothing save for the shallow echo of her own heartbeat. Her back ached. The bed was nearly brand new. It had to be one of the first of many pains to come.

  She slid out of bed quietly and pulled a stretchy pair of pajama bottoms on. Are these tighter than they used to be? she wondered. A trick she’d learned in group was to look at numbers that weren’t on the scale when she began to wonder if her body dysmorphia disorder was acting up. Vanity sizing or not, there was no way a so-called “fat person” could wear a size two or an extra small. The pajamas might be stretchy, but they were still a size zero.

  Harper tiptoed into the living room and eased the door shut behind her. As soon as she sat down on the couch and opened her laptop, the pain that gnawed into her back turned into a full-blown ache. It was worse than the period cramps that haunted her in middle school—and those were bad enough that after a few months of taking days off school, she was given prescription painkillers. At fifteen, her mother had taken her in for a Mirena IUD to stop the periods and pain altogether. It hurt so badly going in that, at twenty when it was time to replace it, she’d gone back to the pill. Fortunately, by then the worst of the menstrual pains seemed to be behind her.

  She sucked in her breath with a hiss as the pain seemed to snake from her back to her stomach. Harper looked toward the closed bedroom door, but she didn’t want to wake Sean. She was still in her first trimester and wasn’t even showing. How weak would she look if she woke him up to complain about pregnancy pains this early on?

  Instead, she picked up her phone and made her way to the balcony, though she had to pause every few steps to hold her throbbing stomach. She called P, but when he answered she could barely hear him. The drum of house music blasted through the phone.

  “Where are you?” he yelled in his semidrunk voice. “You should be here, this place is fire.”

  “I think something’s wrong,” she said.

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  “Go somewhere quiet!”

  “Slow your roll, ho, I’m going.” Suddenly, the music came to a halt and she heard a door slam on the other end. “Now, what?”

  “P, I think something’s really wrong.”

  “What happened? What do you mean?”

  “My back, and now my stomach. It hurts really bad. I thought it was just cramps, but it won’t stop.”

  “It’s one in the morning. Where’s Sean?”

  “Here. Asleep.”

  “And you didn’t wake him up?” There was no trace of revelry left in P’s voice.

  “I didn’t want to seem like a pussy,” she admitted. “Like, I’m barely pregnant and I wake him up in the middle of the night because my stomach hurts?”

  “If it hurts, it hurts,” he said. “I got you. You want me to come right now?”

  Harper looked into the distance. Part of the Hollywood sign was visible and lit turquoise pools spotted the dark landscape.

  “Harper?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m sorry, but I do.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m coming now. I’m in the valley, though, so—”

  “What are you doing in the valley?”

  “It’s a Tuesday night. If you want to find the good parties, you have to be willing to travel to different zip codes.”

  A fresh bolt of pain shot through her. “Just hurry,” she said.

  “I’m getting in the car now. But seriously? You need to wake Sean up and tell him. He’ll find out once I get there anyway.”

  “No,” she said. “I’ll … I’ll leave him a note. He sleeps like the dead anyway.”

  “Leave him a note? Hold on, what are we doing?”

  She gave a short cry. The pain came in waves, and at the peaks it was blinding. “I think I need to go to the ER.”

  “I’m coming.”

  Harper made her way back inside and dug through the foyer table for a pad of paper and pen. S, don’t freak out. P took me to the hospital. It’s probably nothing, but will let you know when I know anything. Love, H. Don’t freak out. Yeah, that’s the perfect way to start a note. He’ll never read it, she thought. He hadn’t set the alarm, and chances were he wouldn’t even wake up for another nine hours. She’d be back and in bed with him by then.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and made a face. Her hair was a mess and the cracked graphic tank top clashed with her pajama pants. But the idea of changing clothes was too much. Besides, who looks good in the ER in the middle of the night?

  Harper slid on her gym shoes and grabbed her purse just as P texted her. Downstairs.

  “What are you wearing?” she asked as he jumped out of the Explorer and helped her into the passenger seat.

  “I like to call it club leather meets wayward dominatrix with a heart of gold. Nailed it?” he asked.

  She eyed him in his studded leather chaps with the two-foot fringe and snug leather vest. “The leather pageboy hat really ties it all together,” she said.

  “Oh, good! I thought that might be too much,” he said as th
ey pulled away from the building. “So, tell me more. What’s wrong, exactly?”

  “It’s just really intense pain. Mostly in my abdomen now. It comes in spurts, though.”

  “Maybe it’s gas,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “What! Pregnant women are gassy. At least my sister was. So, what’s the story when we get there? Am I supposed to be your black, fabulous sugar daddy turned baby daddy or what?”

  “Um, if they ask, which I don’t think they will, let’s just go with the truth.”

  “That I’m your black, fabulous bestie?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  Harper was glad to let P tell her about his night at the warehouse party. It distracted her briefly from the pain—and the idea that there was something wrong with the baby. The way the pain came, it felt how some women described labor. But babies didn’t come this early, did they? She didn’t know.

  P pulled up to the entrance to the ER and raced around to get her door. “You can’t park here!” she said.

  “Shut up. I’m walking you in, then I’ll go move it.”

  “P?” she asked, and stopped. “What if … what if something’s wrong with the baby?” Tears trembled in her eyes.

  “Nothing’s wrong with the baby.”

  “You don’t know,” she said, and the tears started to pour.

  “Come on,” he said and began to lead her into the hospital. It was only then that she noticed he wore nothing beneath his assless chaps.

  “Can I … help you?” the receptionist asked. Even through Harper’s tears, she could tell the woman did a commendable job of not reacting to P’s appearance.

  “My friend is pregnant. It’s her first trimester. She’s in a lot of pain, in her stomach.”

  She was happy to let P take the lead as she tried to stuff the tears down her throat. The nurse on duty leaned forward and looked at her. “What’s the pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain you’ve ever known.”

  “I don’t—Jesus,” Harper said as a fresh wave came over her. She spun away from P and vomited into the small trash bin. It was mostly liquid, but as she opened her eyes she realized there was no liner in the trash and it was mesh.

  “I’ll take her from here,” the nurse said. She gestured for two other nurses in scrubs, and was eased into a wheelchair.

  “I’ll be right here!” P called.

  It was like her dream, with the fluorescent lights overhead. Only this time, she was in a wheelchair and not a gurney. “It’s okay if I can’t have anesthesia,” she said. She was partially aware that she wasn’t making sense.

  “Let’s have the doctor take a look at you before we talk about next steps,” one of the nurses said gently.

  She was wheeled into a beige, boring, but sterile room. Unlike the dream, there were no rusty hedge trimmers on the counter. Just boxes of gloves and glass jars with tongue depressors and cotton balls.

  “Harper? I’m Dr. Fredette.” The doctor looked too young to work in a hospital, and she’d appeared too quickly. Where was the long wait?

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked. The room was too bright, too clean.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. Don’t you worry, we’re going to take good care of you. Are you dizzy? Can you stand?”

  “Yeah, no, I’m not dizzy. I can stand.”

  “Can you put this gown on for me? Open in the back. I’ll just step outside for a minute, okay?”

  “Okay.” When the doctor closed the door, Harper stood and stripped off the tank top and pajamas. It was cold in the exam room and the thin gown didn’t provide any warmth. Goosebumps popped up on her flesh and the sound of the paper that crinkled beneath her as she sat on the exam table was too loud.

  Harper dug through her purse for her phone. It was dead. Fuck. I must have not plugged it in all the way.

  She tried not to cry as she waited for the doctor to return. I should have told Sean, she thought. Now he’ll wake up to that note, I’ll be gone, and he won’t have any idea what happened. I didn’t even tell him which hospital.

  Finally, the knock came. “Alright, let’s take a look and see what we can find out,” the doctor said.

  23

  Sean

  Sean rolled over onto his back and pressed his palms into his eyes. The phone vibrated incessantly on his bedside table. It was still mostly dark outside. It better be a goddamned emergency, whoever it is, he thought to himself. As he reached for the phone, he sensed a vast openness next to him. Where’s Harper? He was instantly awake.

  He didn’t recognize the number, but scrambled to answer it. “Hello?” he asked.

  “Sean? It’s P, Harper’s friend.”

  “Are you with her?” he asked. “Where are you? What time is it?” Before P could answer, he lowered the phone to check the time. Four o’clock in the morning.

  “She’s okay,” P said. “At least, the last I was told. “I took her to Cedars-Sinai.”

  “You took her? When? We were asleep—”

  “She called me a couple of hours ago to come pick her up.”

  “What? Why did she call you? She was right here—”

  “Look, I don’t really know about that. I told her to wake you up, I told her to tell you, but you know how she can be. She told me she left you a note.”

  “A note? Why—what happened? What’s wrong?” Sean bolted from bed and began to pull on a pair of jeans in the dark, the phone cradled precariously under his chin.

  “I haven’t been told much, and I won’t be since I’m not family. But she’s fine, and from what I understand the baby is fine. At least for now, but it’s something to do with the pregnancy.”

  “You know about the baby?” Sean stopped his struggle with the balled-up jeans and stood still.

  “I think I’m the only one she told besides you,” P said gently. “I don’t want to come down on you right now, and I know Harper’s told me you’ve been doing a lot better with the whole normie thing of monogamy or whatever, but you need to figure your shit out.”

  “I’m trying,” Sean said. He put down the phone briefly to pull on a t-shirt.

  “ … how rare what you’ve got it? She shouldn’t have to feel like she needs to call me in a crisis. You need to man up and be whatever she needs so she feels safe with you.”

  “I know, I know,” Sean said. “I’m going to lose you in the stairwell. I’m coming now.”

  “Yeah, well,” P said with a huff in his voice. “I’ll be here.”

  Sean raced through the night. As he whipped into the parking lot, the morning sun had just started to struggle up the horizon. He saw P as soon as he walked in, draped in a black leather ensemble with his chest drenched in glitter. “Don’t ask,” P said, as he stood up to give Sean a brief hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “Are … one of you the father?” Sean turned around to see a doctor with dark circles under his eyes. His white coat was rumpled and he gripped a clipboard like it could save him.

  P looked at Sean. “Oh. That’s me, I am,” he said. That would take some getting used to. The father.

  “Harper’s okay,” the doctor said. “Though still a bit tired and confused from the pain medication.”

  “And the baby?”

  “The fetus is viable,” the doctor said as he glanced at his chart. “But Harper’s had a placental abruption, which caused some internal bleeding. There was also some blood in her fluids.”

  Sean’s breath was shaky. “Can I see her?”

  “Of course. Just bear in mind that stress is the worst thing for her right now. Follow me.”

  P gave his forearm a squeeze as Sean started to trail after the doctor. “I’ll be right here,” he said. “Apparently I’m supposed to stay seated. My outfit seems to have offended some people.”

  The doctor held back a thin blue curtain for Sean like he was about to present him with a new car or an oversized check. Harper was tucked into the bed, her right arm and hand set up with
IVs. She looked tiny, like a child.

  “Harper?” he asked quietly, and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Sean? I’m so sorry,” she said. Her voice was hoarse and choked with tears.

  He rushed to her side and did his best to carefully hug her. With his face buried into her neck, he felt the sting of tears threaten to fall. Seeing her like that was a blunt reminder of all he had to lose. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispered. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry, I’m the one who should be sorry.”

  “No,” she said, her voice tight. “I thought I could save the baby.”

  “You did,” he said. “You did save the baby. The baby’s fine.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I thought it wasn’t too late. That, you know, the rehab would work. I could fix myself—”

  Sean leaned up and brushed a stray lock of fiery hair from her face. “I just talked to the doctor,” he said. “He says the baby’s hanging in there. You did good, you did the right thing.”

  “No,” she said with a stubborn shake of her head. “I don’t even know if you want the baby,” she said. A fresh flood of tears started to trickle down her face. “And I don’t blame you,” she said. “It’s not your fault. I go and bombard you with this news, you don’t get a say in it. And it’s not like we were together together or anything. I’m so fucking stupid—”

  “Hey,” he said as he tucked the hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. Of course I want the baby. It’s a piece of you, of course I want it.” He kissed her softly and tasted the salt on her lips. “I’ll take you in any form I can get.”

  Harper’s body began to rock with the sobs, but this time she squeezed him back.

  A nurse came in, plump with brown skin that looked soft as whipped butter. “You must be the father,” she said with a warm smile. “Harper’s a trooper. I just need to change up her pain meds, I won’t be a minute,” she said.

  Harper let out a groan. “They make me too tired,” she protested, though she knew it was useless.