Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Your wife should be back soon,” the doctor said as he started cleaning up his tools. I guessed he was finished patching me up. I hadn’t even realized when he’d started on the cut by my elbow. “They’ll bring her right back here when she’s done.”
I nodded. I wasn’t even sure what tests they were running. I knew they wanted to check her head and x-ray her arm, but no one had said anything about the baby yet. I knew deep in my gut what they’d say, though. The amount of blood I’d seen…I shook my head to clear it. I’d wait until the doctors gave me some answers.
My phone rang as I pushed myself up off the chair.
“Hey, dipshit,” Bram said. “Where are you?”
I cursed and looked at the clock. We were supposed to pick Bram, Ani, and Arie up fifteen minutes ago. Goddamn it, we’d already been at the hospital for hours. Where the hell was my wife?
“I’m at the hospital with Sarai,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Bram asked worriedly. “What happened? Is she okay?”
I could hear Ani in the background asking the same questions.
“There was an accident.”
“What kind of accident?”
“Car accident,” I said, my voice wobbling. “She was backing out, and a truck hit her doing forty on a residential street.”
“The fuck?” Bram snapped angrily.
“It was bad,” I said. I cleared my throat. “She’s going to be okay, but we’ll be here for a while.”
“No problem,” he said. “We’ll rent a car.”
“I’m sorry, man,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t even think to call you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Bram replied. “You’ve got bigger things to worry about.”
“There was a lot of blood, Bram,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t think the baby—”
“I’m on my way,” he replied. “Which hospital?”
I gave him the name of the hospital and hung up just as I saw Sarai being wheeled down the hallway.
“Hey,” I said, stepping aside so they could push her bed into the room. “How’re you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” she said softly, reaching out to grab my hand.
“I bet,” I said, leaning down to brush my lips against hers. Her hair was still damp from the rain, and I pushed it away from her face. “You’ve got quite the goose egg.”
“They fixed my nose,” she said. “Can you tell?”
I leaned back and tilted my head to the side. “Is it supposed to still be crooked?” I joked. I chuckled hollowly as she rolled her eyes.
“It hurt when they did it,” she said as the nurse fixed her IV and plugged in her monitors. “But afterward, it felt a lot better.”
“They should’ve waited until I was with you,” I said.
“You would have been a nervous wreck,” she replied. “It was better that you weren’t there.”
“That’s not true.”
“You almost punched the paramedic when he started my IV.”
“Remember that, do you?” I asked, giving her a small smile as I sat in the chair next to her.
“It left an impression,” she replied.
We stopped talking when the doctor came into the room. He was very matter-of-fact while he explained all her injuries. Her wrist was splinted for now, but they’d have to do surgery to set it. She had a mild concussion. Then I watched as his entire demeanor changed.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “But the trauma of the accident has caused you to miscarry.”
Sarai froze.
“We’re going to keep an eye on things here,” the doctor said. He continued speaking, but I blocked him out.
I stared at the gray-flecked linoleum under my feet, trying to control my breathing as he went on and on. Didn’t he realize that we didn’t care what he was saying? Neither of us was paying any attention while he spouted medical terms and tried to explain something that didn’t make any goddamn sense.
I lifted my head when I heard his footsteps leave the room.
“Sarai,” I said quietly, trying to get her attention. “Sweetheart?”
She ignored me. Her face was pale as she stared at the empty doorway, the bruises under her eyes and along the side of her forehead becoming more apparent by the minute. She began to tremble as her fingers tightened painfully around mine, and then quietly she began to moan.
The sound was like nothing I’d ever heard before.
She gasped, and then the sound came again, deeper than before, almost animalistic.
“Shh,” I murmured, coming to my feet. “It’s okay,” I lied. I wasn’t sure what else to say.
Her breathing sped up, and the long moans turned to rapid-fire gasping and moaning. It terrified me. She shut her eyes tight, and suddenly a loud sob burst out of her mouth.
“Shh,” I whispered, leaning over her and pressing my cheek to hers. Our fingers were still entwined against the scratchy sheets. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
My words had no impact, but I hadn’t expected that they would. They didn’t mean anything. Nothing I could say in that moment would mean a goddamn thing. There was nothing I could do for her, nothing I could fix.