Dad had started his treatment in the hospital but had moved into his house soon after. He said he didn’t like the way the hospital made him felt. He thought he’d have a much better chance of getting better if he was in his own bed. He was wrong.

He’d had around-the-clock care and was never alone, but he had died, the same way he would have if he was still in the hospital. Hospitals were like planes for me. That sterile, clinical feel they had just made me uncomfortable. The fact that Audra was somewhere in this one made it worse.

I told the receptionist who I was, and they told me where to find Audra—no hesitation. She wasn’t in the ICU or the burn unit or anything scary like that. I found her room number and went in without knocking.

She was dressed when I walked into the room, sitting on the bed like she was about to be discharged. That calmed me down. It wasn’t like I thought she was a picture of health because she could sit up unsupported, but she wasn’t prone and hooked up to beeping machines. She looked… she looked fine. She didn’t even look sick. She had all her limbs, no open wounds; she looked fine. She wasn’t though because she was here.

She did look a little surprised to see me, though. I closed the door and walked up to the bed, grabbing her. Her hands went around my neck, and I lifted her off the bed, holding her close to me. I released her, so she was standing.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“You’re sick. When were you going to tell me that something was wrong?”

“How did you know I was here in the hospital?”

“Audra, why would you want to discuss this right now? I asked you all weekend what was wrong, and you said you were okay. The next thing I know you’re in the hospital? What the fuck?”

“It’s… I know what this looks like, and I should have told you earlier, but I don’t want to do it here.”

“Told me what earlier? Audra, what happened to you?”

She looked down then, and I knew what was happening. I had seen it so fucking often at this point. She had done it because of me so fucking often at this point. I cupped her face, stopping a tear on its way down.

“I never meant to keep it a secret this long,” she whispered. She looked up at me, and her eyes were shiny and wet. “Last weekend… when I asked you to let me sleep in one of your guest bedrooms? I didn’t want you to hear me throwing up. The morning sickness started only a few weeks ago, but I haven’t been able to keep anything down. I wasn’t sick, Levi. I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”

I waited a couple of seconds because nothing came to mind when I opened my mouth to speak. I waited for her to keep talking, to… I don’t know, qualify that statement or something. That wasn’t all there was to say, was there? I’m pregnant? I’m pregnant and what? Levi, I’m pregnant, and it’s yours. Levi, I’m pregnant and what… I’m sorry? I’m pregnant, and I just lost it. The thought shook me for a second. What if she had-? No, she hadn’t. She said she was still pregnant.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

“I found out during the week after we had our first date,” she said.

“What? So you’ve just been sitting on this information? When were you going to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?” I said, more angrily than I wanted. I was mad. I was pissed. Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she tell me when she found out? Why didn’t she tell me every day when we talked on the phone, last weekend when we were together for three days, why didn’t she fucking say anything?

What if she just wasn’t going to? What if she had no intention of ever letting me know in the first place? I was enraged and I hardly even knew what it was that I was angry about. It was everything. The fact that she hadn’t told me. The fact that I hadn’t fucking figured it out. Having to hear from someone else that she was in the hospital. It was everything. I was angry at her.

Why wouldn’t she… why wouldn’t she want to tell me?

“I wanted to tell you in person,” she said.

“Then why didn’t you?” I demanded.

“Because-”

She stopped when a nurse entered the room. I stepped away from her to give the two of them some privacy. I barely heard what the two of them discussed. I was trying not to break something. We were in a hospital; I had to at least wait till we got outside first. I thought of every conversation we had had since our first date. None of those conversations, none of those times; all that communication and she hadn’t found one time to speak up about being pregnant.

Was it me? Was it because she was ashamed? Her behavior that night suddenly made sense. Suddenly I felt like shit. She wasn’t doing well, and she hadn’t come to me. I hadn’t been there for her or had made her feel like she couldn’t come to me. I still didn’t know the reason why she was here.

The nurse left, and Audra sat again. She must have been doing her discharge paperwork. I walked up to her.

“Do you know how much you need to pay?”

“I have insurance.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Levi-”

“Don’t argue with me, Audra,” I snapped. “Just handle your discharge papers so we can leave.”

“We? Didn’t you rush here from New York? Don’t you need to get back?”

“What did I tell you about pushing me away?”

“I’m not pushing you anywhere. I didn’t ask you to come. I don’t know why you did. Now that you know everything’s fine you can leave.”

“Everything’s fine? We’re in a fucking hospital. I know ultrasounds don’t require overnight stays for observation. What’s wrong with the baby? And don’t tell me nothing. You can’t tell me you’re pregnant and expect me not to care.”

“Oh, well that’s great. Since you care so much, you’ll be happy to hear there’s nothing to worry about. I’m pregnant now but give it a few weeks; I might not be anymore.”

“What are you talking about? Are you getting an abortion?”

“No. I came here because I was bleeding. The doctor said it’s something called a subchorionic hematoma. Basically, a pocket of blood between the placenta and my uterus. If I don’t bleed it out, or reabsorb it, I’ll lose the baby.”

I had just learned that she was pregnant, what? Ten minutes ago? Now she was losing it? The news was coming too fast, and all of it was bad.

“Then why are they letting you leave?”

“Because there’s nothing they can do. I have to wait it out. They said that these things tend to sort themselves out, but if the bleeding gets worse, or the pocket gets bigger… there’s a chance that the pregnancy will… terminate naturally,” her voice cracked as she said it. I walked forward and hugged her. I felt her body shake as she cried. Fuck, how long had she been dealing with this alone? Not just the pregnancy, but this? Being scared that she’d lose it. She obviously didn’t want to. It made her upset, so I didn’t want her to either.

This wasn’t about me. It was, sort of, but it wasn’t. I needed to get her home.

“Let me take you home,” I said to her quietly. She didn’t argue with me. I took care of the bill, and we got a ride to her house in a taxi. I walked her upstairs, and she was silent till we got into the house.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said quietly. “Will I still see you this weekend?” she asked. We were in the kitchen.

“I’m not going back to New York now. I’m not leaving you.”

“Why?” she asked. Why? Why? It wasn’t clear already?

“Because I love you, and you need me. What did the doctors tell you?”

“If this is because of the thing, it happens to so many women, it’s really common and-”

“Stop it, Audra. Just stop. Why are you punishing me for loving you? I want to stay. Just tell me what they said.” She looked down before starting again.

“They told me I should take it easy for the next few weeks till I go in for the twelve-week ultrasound. No lifting anything heavy, no exercise, lots of rest. They also gave me a prescription for something to help me with my nausea.”

“I’ll pick it up for you. What about work?”

“I told them where I worked, and they said that since the pregnancy isn’t high risk, as long as I am not on my feet too long, or moving anything heavy around, then I should be okay to keep working. What about you?”

“What? Work?” she nodded. “There’s no boss for me to get in trouble with if I’m not there. I don’t have to be there to get stuff done. I have to leave eventually, but not until next week.”

“You can take that much time off?”

“I’m going to. I’m staying here with you. I’m not flying back to New York until I know you and our baby are okay.” Our baby. It sounded weird coming out of my mouth, but I didn’t hate it. It was true. It was our baby.

“I thought this would be the thing that pushed you away. That made you feel like the trips back and forth weren’t worth it. That…” she sighed like she didn’t know how to tell me she thought I didn’t love her. “I felt like you had me. I was hooked, but you could always leave if you wanted to. Like I wanted you more than you did me, and when it ended, it would be because you wanted something different.”

“I want you, Audra. Don’t run from me. When your friend called me, I thought you’d been in a car accident or something. I want you to talk to me.”

“What would you have done if I’d told you last weekend? Would you have been mad?” she asked.

“I don’t know. You hiding from me makes me mad. It scares me. I don’t want you to think that I would ever hurt you, or leave you. I love you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She smiled a little.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” she said.

“Just tell me the next time I make you pregnant.”

She smiled and leaned up to hug me. I heard her say she loved me too, but quietly enough that I could have missed it. I kissed her, feeling her surrender to me. I lifted her up onto the kitchen counter and ran my hands up her back, inside her shirt.

“Levi… we can’t,” she said, pushing me away.

“What?”

“Sex. We can’t have sex. That was one of the things the doctor said I can’t do. I’m still bleeding a little, and that means I’d be at risk of infection.”

“Okay… we can’t fuck, but can I…?”

“No. No orgasms. They don’t want me doing anything that might cause my uterus to contract.” I frowned.

“What can we do?”

“You can kiss me,” she suggested, “and we can hold hands.”

“Like teenagers?”

“Like a couple,” she said, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. Not something I did often, but it was alright. It was Audra; it was more than alright.

It was perfect.