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I collapsed back into my chair. “I’m not going anywhere. Let me know as soon as you hear anything.”
Rob and Noah exchanged a few words, none of which I could hear from where I was, then Rob headed back to Abigail, and Noah slid into the chair next to mine, his arm snaking around my back and pulling me into him.
“He blames me,” I said. “I know I should have done more.”
“He doesn’t blame you. He’s just worried. You both are. Let’s just see how the tests work out.”
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” I asked, glancing up at him.
“I think the doctors deal with stressed, pregnant women all the time. You’ll know more soon.”
It was an honest answer even if it wasn’t particularly reassuring, but Noah knew that’s what I needed—facts. Honesty.
“I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you want to come with me?” he asked.
I shook my head and pushed away from his chest. I couldn’t leave. Abigail and I never left each other. We’d been together since conception. I wasn’t about to leave her now when she needed me most. What if something happened? “No thanks.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen, Truly. I wouldn’t leave you if I thought it was going to, you hear me?” It was as if the man could read my every thought.
I nodded and though his words were comforting and I almost believed him, I still wasn’t moving. I just couldn’t risk it.
“I’ll bring you one back. You want something to eat?”
I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever known who I’d want by my side more than Noah. He was calm, thoughtful, and focused, and it was almost as if just being near him made me a bit more of all those things.
But as much as his presence was soothing, I should have told him to leave and go home. Shouldn’t have been comforted or pleased he was with me. Because he wasn’t with me. And he never would be. I had no one in my life but my sister.
Three days passed in a blur of worry and anxiety. I’d spent most of that time at the hospital, going home just to shower and collect things for Rob and Abigail. Noah had left early on Friday, and I hated that I hadn’t wanted him to go. I didn’t like the fact that his proximity brought me so much comfort. I’d hoped that by now Abigail would have been given the all clear and things would be back to normal. But it was Sunday night and instead of ribbing Rob about his culinary skills, we were listening to my sister’s prognosis.
“Bed rest? Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not in the sixteenth century; I’m not going into confinement,” my sister snapped at the doctor. Her sedative had clearly worn off, and Rob thrust his hands through his hair in exasperation. If she wasn’t listening to the doctor, Rob had no chance.
Abigail seemed to be back to normal the next morning and since then had been irritable about having to stay in the hospital while they waited for test results and monitored her.
“Will you just listen to the doctor? You need to take this seriously, Abi,” I snapped back. I wasn’t sure if she was scared or frustrated, but either way, she needed to hear what was being said.
The doctor cleared his throat. “It’s not confinement. I’m not worried about you coming into contact with other people. It’s about controlling your blood pressure—”
“And your temper,” I added.
“And you need to be on your left side to ensure the baby isn’t—” The doctor tried to continue.
“For twenty weeks? You can’t be serious.”
“Abigail.” Rob sighed. “Please let the man finish.”
“I’m afraid I’m very serious. You can ignore what I say, but if you do, I’ll be seeing you back in this ward very shortly and the outcome next time might be very different. We’ve caught this early, but we can’t be complacent.”
“But I’ll go crazy! Twenty weeks of being in bed? What if I stayed off my feet most of the day? Surely I could go out to dinner or pop out at lunch to give a presentation or a speech or something?”
“Abi, the foundation will be fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. “No speeches or presentations for you.”
“In my medical opinion, you can go to the bathroom, have a shower—even take a walk around the garden a couple of times a day as long as you’re feeling up to it. But that’s it.”
My sister’s eyes filled with tears. “But what about the spinal center—”
Rob turned to Abigail. “You need to listen to him. This is serious stuff. You can’t be risking your life and the life of our child because you want to go to some fucking awards dinner.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows, and I patted Rob on the arm, trying to calm him. “It’s okay,” I said. “Abigail is going to do exactly what the doctor said, aren’t you?” I grabbed my sister’s hand. “I’ll handle the foundation.”
I didn’t know what I was going to do or how I was going to do it, but I knew Abigail wasn’t part of the solution. “And anyway, you’ve been telling me I need to broaden my horizons—this will be the perfect opportunity. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you planned this.” I squeezed her hand.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice wobbling—vulnerability breaking through her tough exterior.