“Just a bit dizzy,” she replies. “I think I sat up too fast.”
She stays seated for a brief time before moving to the side of the bed.
I take in her long, lean back, slender waist, and gorgeous backside when she stands. “I’m going to bite that ass when you get back here.”
“I don’t feel so good,” she says, taking a step forward. But before her words even register, she collapses to the floor.
“Fuck, Emma,” I call out, leaping from the bed. I’m by her side in an instant, and she’s already coming around. “Are you okay?” I help her into a sitting position as I cup her face in my hand.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
My heart is thundering in my chest as I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the bathroom. Carefully placing her down next to the bowl, I lift the lid. She leans over, and when she starts dry-retching, I grab her hair, holding it out of the way.
After a few attempts, she gives up, standing to full height. “I’m feeling a bit better now, thanks.”
“The fuck you are, you just fainted. Come, get dressed, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m okay, Ashton.”
“We’re going to the hospital, and that’s final!”
She rolls her eyes, so I lightly smack her ass. I’m not letting this go. You don’t faint for no reason.
“Sit,” I demand when we reach the bed.
I go back into the bathroom and grab a cloth, rinsing it under the cold water. My concern amplifies when I kneel in front of her, noticing how pale and clammy she is.
After wiping over her face, I help her get dressed.
Donning my own clothes, we head to the car.
“I’m not an invalid,” she gripes. “I can walk without your assistance.”
I chuckle at her sassiness. “I’m not taking a chance on you fainting again. You’re lucky you didn’t hit your head.”
Ami South Bay Hospital at Redondo Beach is a ten-minute drive from my place. After seeing the triage nurse in emergency, we take a seat and wait for the doctor to call us in.
It’s almost a two-hour wait.
“All your vitals are good,” he says. “Have you ever fainted before?”
“Once, when I was younger, I had an eating disorder and passed out because my blood pressure was low.”
“I see. And when was the last time you ate?”
“Last night,” she replies.
“I might take a blood and urine sample as a precaution.”
She seems completely fine now, but that does nothing to ease my concern.
An hour later, the doctor re-enters the room, taking a seat. “Did you know you’re pregnant?”
“Pregnant,” she gasps.
Wait, what?
“Yes, feeling dizzy or fainting is common during pregnancy, especially in the first trimester,” he says. “Dizziness or loss of consciousness are often caused by a drop in blood pressure from the hormones released to relax the body’s blood vessels.”
The doctor’s words barely register.
My mind is racing a hundred miles an hour.
She’s pregnant.
She’s fucking pregnant.
How could this happen?
The shower.
The night I broke rule number five.
Fuck!
I can’t even bring myself to look at her. “I need some air,” is all I say as I stand and head toward the door.
My need to escape is strong.
To think.
To run—is too great.
So, I do just that. I hightail it out of there.
I’m an asshole.
It’s the wrong thing to do, I know that. Emma needs my support now more than ever, but I’m like a man possessed. My feet kept moving faster and faster. I’ve been desperately trying to leave my past behind, but it’s no use. I’m bound to the memories.
The walls around me are closing in, and I’m struggling to get air into my lungs.
I pull out my phone.
Ashton: Can you do me a favor? Can you come to Ami South Bay Hospital and pick up Emma?
Grayson: Is everything okay?
Ashton: I have to leave, but she’s going to need a ride home.
Grayson: What the fuck man!
Ashton: I’ll explain later. Can you come and get her or not?
Grayson: On my way.
Thirty minutes later, I pull up at the cemetery, not even remembering the drive here. It’s been over six years since I’ve come. I haven’t been back since the funeral. I take a few deep breaths as I exit the car and cross the perfectly manicured lawn. Just being here has me on the verge of a panic attack.
My heart constricts as I kneel in front of the headstone. It’s the first time I’ve seen it. I swallow hard as I read over the name.
Anastasia Josphine Austin
2nd February 1992 - 7th May 2013
Anastasia was only twenty-one when she took her own life. And although she was a tortured soul, she was way too young to die.
Tears rise to my eyes when my gaze moves further down, but I will them back down. I don’t know why I’m so afraid to let it out. Maybe because I’m scared I won’t be able to stop once I do.
This is why I came here. Not to visit her but to see him. The guilt hits me full force as I run my fingers over the script.
Baby Barclay
If my love alone could’ve saved you,
you would have lived forever.
My son.
I was too distraught at the time to even give him a name. I hate her for what she did and how selfish she was. Anastasia may not have wanted to live anymore, but she didn’t give my son a choice.
He deserved the right to take his first breath.
He deserved a chance at life.
I settle back in the grass, staring at the blue sky above. All the what-ifs filter through my mind. From the moment I found out Anastasia was carrying my child, his safety and wellbeing were my greatest concern. Life, with her as his mother, would never have been easy. But that still doesn’t give me peace.
He would’ve always had me. I would’ve protected him. Cared for him. Loved him.
I’m not sure how long I lay there lost in thought, shrouded in my own grief, but I eventually stand, dusting the grass from my clothes. I need to go and find Emma. I have to concentrate on the here and now. I need to make this right.
I won’t be coming back. I can’t. If I want to move forward, then I have to let the past go once and for all. The only way to heal the wound is to stop touching it.
The heavy weight that’s settled on my chest intensifies.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” I whisper before I turn and walk away.
He’ll forever remain in my heart.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Carla screams the moment she opens Emma’s door and sees me standing there.
Grayson appears behind her in an instant, wrapping his arms around her waist at the exact moment she lunges for me.
“Let me go,” she screams, her arms and legs flailing around in the air like a woman possessed.
“Settle down, Rambo,” he says, chuckling.
“Your ass is mine, Barclay. Do you hear me?”
“Not on my watch,” Grayson replies. He gives me a sympathetic look. Emma must’ve told him about the baby, so I know he understands.