Chương 6
I gripped the sheet.
Dana noticed.
“That again?”
“Yes.”
She looked at the monitor, then at me.
“We’re almost there.”
Alex’s hands closed around his knees.
“Is the baby okay?”
Dana did not give him the comforting lie he wanted.
“We need obstetrics to assess her.”
He nodded once.
I closed my eyes.
The baby moved beneath my palm.
A small rolling pressure.
I whispered, “There.”
Dana smiled slightly.
“That’s good to feel.”
Alex leaned forward.
“Moved?”
“Yes.”
His shoulders loosened.
Then he looked furious for relaxing.
The hospital entrance was bright enough to hurt my eyes.
People began moving around me before I understood we had stopped.
The stretcher rolled through automatic doors.
Someone asked my name.
Someone else asked my date of birth.
A nurse cut off the sleeve of my robe to examine my upper arm.
I wanted to protest because the robe had belonged to my mother.
She had bought it after my father died because she said grief made people cold.
I nearly told the nurse to stop.
Then I saw the swelling spreading beneath my skin.
Purple was already beginning at the center.
“Do what you need to,” I said.
They moved me into a labor and delivery triage room.
Alex tried to follow.
A nurse blocked him gently.
“We need a few minutes with her alone first.”
He looked at me.
“I’ll be right outside.”
“I know.”
He still did not move.
“Alex.”
“Yeah.”
“Go.”
He nodded and disappeared behind the curtain.
The nurse introduced herself as Maribel.
She was small, brisk, and wore a badge reel shaped like a strawberry.
“I need to ask you some questions privately.”
“Okay.”
“Do you feel safe going home today?”
“No.”
The answer came faster than I expected.
Maribel did not react.
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”
“My brother.”
“Does your husband have access to his home?”
“No.”
“Keys?”
“No.”
“Security codes?”
“No.”
“Any firearms in your home?”
My stomach dropped.
“Yes.”
Maribel paused.
“Who owns them?”
“Victor.”
“How many?”
“Two.”
“Where are they usually kept?”
“One handgun in a locked safe in the bedroom closet.”
“And the other?”
“A rifle in the garage cabinet.”
“Do you know if he has access to them right now?”
“He was arrested.”
“I understand.”
Her voice stayed calm.
“I’m asking because release can happen quickly depending on what officers, prosecutors, and judges decide.”
The words release can happen quickly made the room feel smaller.
I stared at the blanket over my knees.
“I thought if they arrested him—”
“It means he’s in custody right now.”
She let the sentence end there.
No promises.
No softening.
A doctor entered with an ultrasound machine before I could ask anything else.
She introduced herself as Dr. Patel and immediately began explaining what she was checking.
The gel was cold against my abdomen.
I stared at the ceiling.
Then the heartbeat filled the room.
Fast.
Strong.
Alive.
My whole body broke open.
I covered my mouth.
Dr. Patel kept watching the screen.
“The fetal heart rate looks reassuring.”
I started crying.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Tears simply ran sideways into my hair.
Maribel handed me tissues.
Dr. Patel continued the scan.
“We’re going to monitor you for several hours because of the trauma and because you reported tightening.”
“Is that contractions?”
“Possibly uterine irritability.”
I hated how clinical the phrase sounded.
“Is that dangerous?”
“It can be something we watch without it progressing, but trauma during pregnancy is something we take seriously.”
“Could I lose her?”
The doctor’s hand paused.
It was the first time I had said her to anyone at the hospital.
Victor and I had not told his parents the baby’s sex.
He had wanted to do some elaborate reveal.
I had wanted one private thing to remain ours.
Dr. Patel looked at me.
“I can’t predict everything from this moment.”
She spoke carefully.
“Right now, I’m seeing signs that are reassuring.”
I nodded.
It was enough.
It had to be.
After the doctor left, Maribel brought Alex back in.
He looked at my stomach before he looked at my face.
“She’s okay?”
“For now.”
He pressed both hands over his mouth.
I watched him turn toward the wall.
“Don’t do that.”
He dropped his hands.
“What?”
“Fall apart.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re terrible at lying.”
He laughed once through his nose.
It sounded almost angry.
Then he pulled the visitor chair closer and sat.
For a while neither of us spoke.
A monitor traced the baby’s heartbeat beside the bed.
Alex stared at the moving paper.
“I don’t understand any of that.”
“Neither do I.”
“Aren’t you a nurse?”
“I worked orthopedics.”
“Babies have bones.”
I looked at him.
He shrugged.
It was such a ridiculous thing to say that I laughed.
The laugh hurt my cheek.
I touched it and stopped.
Alex’s expression changed immediately.
The humor disappeared.
“How long?”
I looked away.
“How long what?”
“Claire.”
“I don’t want to do this right now.”
“Okay.”
His agreement irritated me.
“Don’t say okay like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re storing it for later.”
He rubbed his palms against his sweatpants.
“I’m trying not to push you.”
“Well, you’re doing it loudly.”
He almost smiled.
Then his face folded back into worry.
“I should’ve known.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“I should have.”
“You barely saw Victor.”
“Exactly.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I didn’t like him.”
“You don’t like anybody before coffee.”
“That’s different.”
Despite everything, I smiled again.
Then he said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The smile vanished.
There it was.
The question I had been dreading more than any medical one.
I turned toward the window.
Morning had finally arrived.
A parking garage filled most of the view.
Beyond it, a strip of pale blue sky.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Alex.”
“I’m not blaming you.”
“It sounds like you are.”
He leaned back.
“Then I’m saying it wrong.”
I picked at the edge of the hospital blanket.
May you like
“He wasn’t always like this.”
Alex said nothing.
