“Injured?”
“No, I’ve seen that plenty of times. I mean sad.”
I close my eyes and fat tears roll out.
“I don’t know what happened,” Colin goes on. “But I do know he cares.”
That’s the best and worst thing to hear right now. It’s making my resolve waver.
“Thanks for picking him up, Colin.”
“Yeah … let me know what’s going on, okay? And if I have to throw a few punches, I’ll at least wait until Noah’s stitches are healed.”
“Thanks.” I step forward and give my brother a hug. I lock the door behind him when he leaves and turn around, leaning on it. I suck in a breath, jaw trembling.
I hate this. My head hurts, though not as badly as my heart, and I know I need to get some sleep since I have to be up early for work in the morning. Sleep won’t come easy, and I don’t know where to sleep. Next to Noah? He’s injured…but we broke up. Being here is hard enough. Being in bed next to him…I’m not strong enough.
Ella has to come first.
If I lay down next to him, wake up to his arms around me, I might go back on everything. I can’t. Instead, I set food and water up for the dogs, check on Noah, then take a pillow from his bed and move onto the couch. Physically, I’m exhausted. Mentally, my brain won’t shut the fuck up. And Ella is right there with it, kicking and pushing on my bladder, making me get up to pee every few minutes.
Finally, I fall asleep, only to be woken up by someone gently poking my cheek. I open my eyes, to see Noah standing next to the couch.
“Am I dead?” he asks.
“What?” I push up. “No, you’re not dead. What’s wrong?”
He blinks, and I notice his eyes are super dilated. He’s still heavy under the influence of pain medication. “Are you sure I’m not dead? I woke up with the dogs. And now you’re here.”
“Why would that make you think you’re dead?”
“Because this is what I want. You, with me.”
Damn you, drugged up Noah. Nine little words, like nine little bullets. I burst into tears, thank you hormones.
“Well, if I was dead I wouldn’t make you cry,” Noah says.
“It’s okay,” I hiccup. “Are you hurting?”
“I’ve been hurting since you said goodbye.”
I can’t handle that right now. Or ever. “Come here,” I say and heft myself off the couch. “Let me see.”
“Okay,” he says softly and follows me into the kitchen. I have him sit on a barstool so I can inspect his wounds. I don’t take care of people, but stitches are stitches. He has five stitches on his left arm. The skin around it is in bad shape from road rash, and I can see bruises all over the left side of his body.
Colin summed it up perfectly: Noah is beat to he’ll but will be okay. I believed my brother, but seeing it first hand offers relief. Noah and I might not be together, but I didn’t stop caring about him. I don’t think I’ll ever stop caring.
“They look good,” I say, putting the gauze back over the cut on his arm. “Make sure you keep it clean and dry.”
“I will.”
“Do you have anything to take for pain later?” I can’t look at him when I talk.
“I do. Lauren…thanks for coming over.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes I do.”
I turn and he catches my wrist. His skin against mine causes a ripple in my soul.
“Lauren.”
“Noah, I can’t.” Tears are running down my face.
He gives my arm a gentle tug. “I miss you.”
I pull my arm back, breaking his grasp. “You need to rest, Noah.”
He nods, and through my blurry vision, I see the heartbreak on his face. He stays there for another few seconds, looking at me, before going back into his room.
I cry myself to sleep.
My alarm goes off too soon. I wake up tired. This is going to be a great fucking day. I stiffly sit up; sleeping on the couch with a pregnant belly is not comfortable. Sasha is on the floor near me and Vader is nowhere to be seen. He must be in with Noah.
After using the bathroom, I duck into Noah’s room. Vader is snuggled up with him, head pressed against Noah’s chest. It’s sad and it’s sweet and if I keep staring, I’m going to start crying again. So I turn and get ready for work. I make a sandwich for Noah and put it in the fridge. I know he’ll be hungry when he wakes up and won’t want to cook anything. He came home with extra dressings for his wounds. I go through the discharge instructions, rewriting it in simpler, easy-to-follow steps, and lay out what he’ll need to keep his stitches from getting infected on the counter.
I’m dressed and ready to get the dogs and leave. Yet here I am, sitting in the kitchen. When I walk out that door, I won’t ever come back here. At least not in a way that’s enjoyable. I hug my stomach, thinking of the little girl who’s inside.
It’s for you, baby.
I don’t try to hold back the tears. They will come eventually anyway. I am sad. I am broken hearted. And that’s okay. What’s not okay is giving in and letting myself get hurt again.
I get up, and go into Noah’s room, stopping in the doorway. My heart aches as I gaze upon him. I miss him so much.
“Goodbye, Noah,” I whisper.
I’m sobbing when I get into my Jeep. I want to rush back in, hold Noah, and never let go.
Chapter 24
NOAH
MY BODY HURTS. I’m stiff and sore and every step is agony. But it’s nothing compared to the heartache.
Lauren was here.
She came over last night, took care of me. Knowing she still cares just makes it that much worse. It would be easier if she hated me, if she yelled at me and cursed my name.
Why does she have to be so good?
It only makes me feel that much worse about myself. I’m such a fuck up. Maybe my father was right all along in avoiding me. He could see how worthless it all was.
I hate myself for hurting someone as beautiful as Lauren. I hate myself for messing up the chance to be with the only person I’ve ever loved. Most of the time, no matter how deep of shit I’d gotten myself into, I can find a way out. I rarely feel hopeless, rarely think I’m stuck with a shitty situation.
I get up, mouth dry, and limp into the kitchen. The blanket is neatly folded on the couch. I stare at it a moment too long, heart hurting.
Fuck, I want Lauren back.
Then I see the note on the counter and I’m about to completely lose it. I’ve never been this torn up before. Can I even handle reading what Lauren has to say? For sure I can’t handle not knowing. I pick up the paper.
Noah-
Leave the dressings over your stitches for 24 hours. You can gently wash it with soap and water. Pat dry and put antibiotic ointment on. Cover with gauze and keep area clean and dry. Don’t go to the gym for at least a week. Go back to get the stitches out in ten days. Call the doc right away if you see redness, swelling, or feel an increase in pain.
Take care.
-Lauren
That’s it? I blink and look down again, hoping I missed some sort of hidden message where she confessed her undying love for me and need to be back together.
I know she cares. She has to. Why else would she have gone to the trouble of coming over? I crumple the paper and throw it across the room, mad at myself, not at Lauren.
It’s nine-thirty; Lauren is at work. I call her anyway, but hang up when I get her voicemail, mind suddenly blanking. I want so badly to tell her everything, to hold her, to feel Ella’s little feet kicking away.
My phone vibrates and my heart jumps out of my chest. It’s not Lauren; it’s Colin asking how I’m doing. I respond with a quick “sore but okay” and press send.
I set the phone down and open the fridge to get something to eat. There’s a turkey sandwich in a plastic baggie, made by Lauren. She’s the most fucking considerate person on the planet.
Someone like Lauren doesn’t happen twice.
She didn’t walk into my life. She ran. And though we collided, only one of us got hit.
Chapter 25
LAUREN
“LAUREN W.”
I stand when the nurse calls my name and walk across the waiting room.
“Hi, how are you?” she asks cheerfully.
“I’m good,” I lie. I haven’t been good since the baby shower eight days ago. Add in knowing Noah was in an accident, and I’ve been a ball of anxiety and nerves. “Tired, of course.”
She laughs. “At almost thirty-two weeks, you’re really feeling it.”
“Sometimes I don’t think I can make it another eight weeks.”
We stop at a scale. I step on, not even phased by the weight gain anymore. “You’re getting into the home stretch now.”
“Thank goodness.” After getting weighed, I go in to the bathroom, give a sample of pee in a cup, and join the nurse in the exam room. It’s nearing five o’clock on a Monday night. I’m pretty sure I have the last appointment before the office closes.
“How are you feeling?” the nurse asks.
“Uh, sore along with tired,” I say, downplaying how awful I’ve felt since Noah and I broke up. After getting his text Thursday after noon, I hadn’t heard from him. Colin let me know that Noah really was okay, but as the weekend came to a close, I wondered if he maybe he finally let go and is trying to move on.
“But it’s probably just normal,” I go on. “I worked this weekend and I usually don’t.” Now that I’ll be on my own, I need the extra money, and being busy keeps my mind off of Noah.
Father material or not, I miss him. The breakup might have been my doing, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Because it did.
Hell, it still does just as much as it did when he walked out that door.
As hard as I tried, I fell for Noah. And now I have to get over him, put my own heart behind my head and do what’s best for Ella.
And that’s not Noah Wilson.
I wanted a happily ever after, to find my Prince Charming and have him ride me off into the sunset. Real life doesn’t work that way.
“Where are you sore?”
“My back mostly. And I feel a lot of pressure in my pelvis, almost like she’s gonna fall out if I stand too long.”
The nurse enters my symptoms into the computer, and then grabs the doppler. Ella is moving around so much it’s hard to get a good read of her heartbeat. Little stinker.
Next, she gets out the blood pressure cuff. I smooth out the fabric of my long-sleeved T-shirt and extend my arm. I yawn again, feeling the dull headache that I’ve had for the last few days to come back. Too much stress does this to me. Dammit. I can’t take anything else for pain for another four hours.
The nurse takes my blood pressure, makes a face, then takes it again. I can tell by her expression something isn’t right. She puts the equipment away, smiles, and says the doc will be right in, just like normal.
But this isn’t normal.
“It’ll be okay, little girl.” I put my hands on my stomach, feeling scared. I wish Noah was here.
Only a minute later the doctor comes in. Yep, this is bad.
“Hi, Lauren,” Dr. Linn says. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” I say.
She pulls up my file on the computer. “Your blood pressure is high. Are you having any headaches or blurred vision?”
“I have a headache,” I tell her, nerves on fire. Is Ella okay?
“How long have you had it?”
“Uh, since like Thursday. But it’s been on and off.”
“Have you tried taking anything for it?”
I nod. “Tylenol. It helps for about an hour.”
She moves to me and motions for me to lay back so she can check Ella’s positioning. “Her head is down,” she tells me. “And she’s low. I bet you’re feeling lots of pressure.” She helps me sit up. “I’m going to send you over to the labor and delivery floor for blood work and monitoring, just to make sure baby is doing okay. Your blood pressure has gone up quite a bit since last time.”
I feel like throwing up.
“Are you able to go over there now?”
My head moves up and down. The OB office is attached to the hospital. It’s just a walk away.
“Okay then. I’ll have one of the nurses assist you.” She pats my hand. “We’re gonna take care of you and baby.” She leaves and a minute later a nurse comes in with a wheelchair. I tell her I can walk, but it’s a policy and I have to be pushed.
My heart is hammering as the nurse pushes me down the hall and into an elevator. I pull my phone from my leather purse and bring up my contacts. I need to call Mom and let her know, but I hesitate. There is someone else who deserves to know just as much, and I want him there with me more than anyone else.
I pull up Noah’s last text message and reread what he wrote.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, heart hurting. I miss Noah so fucking much. What do I even say? I start typing, then delete what I wrote and try again.
Are you busy?
The elevator doors shut and we go up two floors. I stare at my phone, waiting for a reply. Only a minute later, Noah sends me a text.
Noah: I’m not. Are you okay?
Me: I don’t know yet. My blood pressure is high. Doctor is sending me to the hospital for monitoring. Can you meet me here? I’m scared.
Noah: I’m on my way.
I get checked into the labor and delivery floor and hooked up to machines. The nurse, JoAnna, does her initial assessment, then says she’ll be back in a few to check on me. She can read the monitors from the nurses’ station as well.
So now I sit in a hospital bed, belts and monitors around my belly, alone and scared. I grab my phone to call Mom then stop. I should wait until I get some answers before I make her worry and speed over.
The door to the room opens and I look up, expecting to see the nurse come back. But it’s Noah. His sky-blue eyes meet mine and everything comes rushing back.
How good it feels to have his arms around me. His lips crashing into mine. The way he makes me laugh, makes me feel beautiful.
The way he makes me feel loved.
“Lauren.” Noah crosses the room. I push up and he throws his arms around me. I bend my head, pressing my face into his neck, and break down in tears. “It’s okay,” he soothes, gently running his fingers through my hair. “It’ll be okay.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me. I don’t waste any time. My hands fly up, landing on either side of his face, feeling his beard beneath my skin, and bring his face to mine.
“I missed you,” I whisper, tears freely falling down my cheeks. Noah wipes them away.
“I missed you too. So fucking much.” He kisses me again then brings me to him. The belts slide out of position, making an alarm sound. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” I’ve never seen him so concerned.
“Yeah.” I push the belt back up to where it used to be, but it doesn’t silence the alarm. “It moved.” I motion to the belt. “Thanks for coming.”
“Don’t thank me,” he says. “I should thank you for telling me what’s going on.”
My bottom lip trembles. “You were the first person I wanted with me. I miss you, Noah. I miss everything we had.”
His jaw tenses and emotion takes over his face. “Lauren I—”
JoAnn comes back into the room, readjusting the monitors on my belly and turning off the alarm.
“Is she okay?” Noah asks, not moving away from me.
“So far everything looks good on the monitors,” JoAnn tells us. “No contractions and baby’s heart rate looks good.” I relax a bit.
“But Lauren’s blood pressure is still high?”
“Yes, it’s elevated.”
“Why?”
“There could be a number of things, and once we get the results from the blood work back we’ll know more. Has the lab come in yet?” she asks me.
“Not yet.”
�
��They should be here soon.” She gives us a smile. “Do you want anything?”
“Some water would be nice,” I say. She gets me a cup then tells us to relax while we wait.
“Easier said than done,” Noah mumbles and pulls a chair up close to the bed and takes my hand. I close my eyes and link my fingers through his. It feels just like how it used to be, despite not speaking for over a week.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I’m fine, and I get my stitches out in a few days.” He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, showing me a two-inch line on his bicep. “I thought about you, about Ella, as the bike was going down. All I wanted was another chance to see you.”
“I’m glad you got it.” I blink back tears.
“How has everything else been?” Noah asks.
“Same as before, really.”
“Is Ella moving a lot? I miss feeling her little feet.”
I smile to cover my guilt of making Noah miss out on that. “She moves all the time. What about you, well, other than the accident?”
“Same too. Just trying to stay busy and keep my mind off of you.”
I close my eyes. “I don’t want to do this,” I whisper.
He takes his hand back. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Not at all. I mean, I don’t want to not be together. I want things to go back to how it was before.”
“Me too. Lauren,” he says, voice heavy with longing. “I would do anything to redo things.”
I turn, looking at his handsome face. “I would too.”
“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?”
I give him a half smile. “Kind of. I want us to be together.” Ella kicks me hard, causing me to flinch.
“Then we should.”
I close my eyes, trying not to cry … and I can’t look at Noah when I say this. I don’t want to see the hurt on his face. “Sometimes what I want isn’t what I need. I can’t take care of a baby and have you getting drunk, so drunk you’re passing out and puking. And I can even forgive special occasions, like you overdo it at a New Year’s Eve party or something. But for no reason … I don’t want Ella growing up around that.”
[2016] First Comes Love Page 19
