Chapter 32
Mason
I had never really understood when someone had said their skin felt too tight, but I did now. I hadn’t slept at all again last night. I couldn’t eat or think straight. Never in my life had I felt so completely distraught. There was no real reason for me to feel this way. Lara and I had never proclaimed our love for one another. We had just kind of fallen into an easy relationship that seemed to be going really well.
The anger I felt at Sally boiled in my gut. I hated her for what she had done. I should have reacted faster and pushed her off me. I could have stopped her. Lara had refused my calls all night, and I was absolutely desperate to talk to her.
Desperation could make a man do stupid things.
I called Brian again.
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
Obviously, he knew Lara’s side of the story. I should have expected that by now.
“I need to talk to her, Brian. It wasn’t what she thought. The woman is someone I used to date off and on. When Lara and I met up again, I called it off. I told the woman I couldn’t see her anymore. She showed up at my place and kissed me,” I said on one long breath. I had to get out my side of the story before he hung up on me.
“You could’ve pushed her away,” he stated in a calm voice, which surprised me. I thought he would be yelling and threatening me with bodily harm.
“I did. Lara is the only woman I want. Sally is—she’s not—she’s one of those women that—” I said, hoping he would understand.
“I get it, Mason. I do,” he said, shocking me once again with how reasonable he was being.
“Please. I really need her,” I croaked out.
There was a long pause. “I’ll talk to her, but I make no promises. I’m not even supposed to know about all this. She made Kali promise not to tell me.”
In this one instance, I was thankful that the boyfriend-girlfriend, spousal-privilege thing didn’t count. I had an ally, and I really needed any help I could get at this point.
“Thank you. Please tell her I’m sorry, but I swear on everything I have that it wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I’ll try.”
He hung up, and I felt a little better. Hopefully, her big brother could convince her to give me a chance to talk to her. I had to make her see the truth.
When I walked into work, the nurse’s station was adorned with the infamous banner and balloons. There was another pregnancy to celebrate. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate anything.
“You look awful. Seriously, horrible,” Junie said when she saw me. “Really, you need to pull yourself together before you go see any patients.”
I could always count on Junie for giving it to me straight. She pulled no punches.
“I guess I look like I feel then,” I shot back.
“Well, too bad, mister. You have people counting on you. Liven up. Celebrate another victory. No matter what you have going on in your personal life, you have to show up and give these women hope. This mopey, crazy-eyed look isn’t good for business.”
I knew she was right. “I will. Give me ten minutes and let me clean up a bit.”
“Good. That’s the spirit.”
I went into my office, straightened my clothing, and then headed to the bathroom to wash my face and do something with my hair. I could feel it sticking up in all different directions, but I hadn’t cared. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the luxury of not caring. I had people depending on me.
After a good ten minutes, I felt better. I could get through the day. When I walked out of the bathroom, Junie caught my eye.
“Better?” she asked.
“Yes. Thanks.”
“No problem. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you’ll be okay.”
“Thanks, Junie.”
I put my head down and got to work. The day dragged on, but I made it through. I only called Lara about ten times, which I thought showed serious self-control. I drove straight home, changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then called Lara again.
She didn’t answer, and the voice mail on her phone was full, as was the answering machine on her home phone.
“Fuck this,” I grumbled, pulling on my tennis shoes.
The woman was going to hear me out even if I had to yell through the damn door. I drove to her apartment, told the doorman to back off when he tried to stop me, and made my way to her door. I knew I probably looked like a crazy man, but I didn’t care. I needed to see her.
“Lara.” I knocked like a normal person at first and then began pounding. “Lara! Open the damn door!”
I waited, listening for sounds of movement. Nothing. I picked up my phone and called her cell. I could hear the phone ringing. When it went to voice mail, I hung up and redialed. The incessant ringing sent chills down my spine. If she could, she would have silenced the ringer. I called again and knocked on the door. Then I waited. I thought I heard her say my name, but I couldn’t be sure.
I tried the door handle and wasn’t surprised to discover it was locked. I ran back downstairs to the lobby and found the doorman. I knew someone had to have a key.
“Something is wrong,” I explained to the on-duty manager who lived in the building. “Either you open that door with a key or I break it down.”
The manager looked uneasy, but I could be very intimidating. He finally caved. I jogged down the hall, turning to look back at the man, demanding he get his ass in gear.
As soon as the key was in the lock, I pushed the man out of the way.
“Lara!” I called out, seeing the living room and kitchen areas were empty. “Lara!” I called again.
I walked to her bedroom, saw the bed was unmade but she wasn’t in it. My heart raced as my mind conjured up a thousand different horrible scenarios. I would die if something happened to her. A brief thought of her trying to take her own life flashed through my mind.
Pushing the thought away, I looked around the room. I didn’t see anything that would indicate she had been a victim of foul play. Not that I would actually know what that looked like, but I had watched television. A moan from the adjoining bathroom grabbed my attention.
“Oh shit,” I murmured when I pushed the door open and saw her lying on the bathroom floor. Her hair was fanned out around her. She looked pale against the dark tile floor. My heart was pounding as I took in the scene.
“Lara? Lara, can you hear me? It’s Mason,” I said, dropping to my knees beside her. “Babe, can you hear me?”
I grabbed her wrist and began to take her pulse.
She moaned and moved her head. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed again. The super was behind me, hovering over my shoulder. I shooed him out of the bathroom.
“Should I call an ambulance?” he asked from her bedroom.
I looked at her again and quickly assessed her condition. “No. I’ll get her to the hospital myself.”
When he looked at me as if that was a bad idea, I glared back. “I’m a doctor. Thank you, but you can see your way out now.”
I turned my attention back to Lara, who was barely conscious on the floor. I picked her up and started for the door. I grabbed her purse from the table, knowing she would need the medical insurance information.
Thankfully, we were close to the hospital. I used my credentials to get her into a room right away instead of waiting in the lobby.
There was a flurry of activity as Lara was assessed. An IV was started and they got her on fluids at my insistent request.
“Hello,” an older gentleman in a white coat said, pulling back the curtain of the emergency room. “What’s going on today?”
I looked at Lara. Her eyes were closed, but I could tell she was conscious. “I’m gonna be sick,” she mumbled.
I reached for the emesis basin and held it in front of her while she got sick. There wasn’t much to catch. She had the dry heaves.
“I guess I can see what the problem is,” the doctor said, coming to stand on the other side of her bed. “How long has this been going on?”
“Since last night,” she said, leaning her head back on the pillow.
The doctor gave her a thorough evaluation, ordered some blood work, and promised to be back shortly.
“What about the vomiting? Can you give her something?” I asked, knowing the answer but not wanting to sound pushy. Doctors made the worst patients, and even worse spouses of patients.
The doctor said he would see about giving her something.
When we were alone, I put my hand on her forehead, pushing back her hair. “I’m sorry you’re sick. I wished I would have known. I could have helped you earlier.”
She made a slight move of her head. A tear slid out from under her closed eyes. I used the pad of my thumb to wipe it away before kissing her forehead.
“I’m cold,” she whispered.
I grabbed the thin sheet at the bottom of the bed and covered her. “They’ll get you feeling better real soon,” I promised.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally returned, looking far cheerier than the situation dictated.
“Well?” I asked, a little short due to my frustration at being unable to help her.
“Food poisoning. There is no sign of an infection. The violent vomiting, weakness, and dehydration all point to food poisoning. For now it is going to be rest and liquids. You seem to have a pretty severe case, but I don’t think it warrants any further testing unless we can’t get things to settle down.”
“Did you run a pregnancy test as well?” I asked, knowing it tended to be standard protocol in women with Lara’s symptoms.
“No,” he said, looking at the tablet he was holding.
“I’d like a pregnancy test done,” I stated.
“No,” Lara moaned. “I’m not pregnant.”
I looked at the doctor, letting him know in no uncertain terms to run the damn test.
“We can do that. We’ll need to keep you here, I would say overnight to get you rehydrated and make sure you can keep fluids down. We’ll have you moved up to a room here shortly.”
“Overnight?” she groaned.
I grabbed her hand. “It’s okay. You’re in pretty rough shape. They need to get you rehydrated before you go home.”
Another tear slid down her face. I knew she felt miserable and was emotional because of it. Remarkably, we were moved to a private room relatively quickly. I took up residence in the comfortable recliner next to her bed. I wasn’t leaving her, even though she told me to several times.
It was in the early hours of the morning when the doctor coming on shift stopped by.
“Congratulations,” he said, walking into the room.
I wiped the sleep from my eyes. “Excuse me?” I whispered, not wanting to wake Lara. She’d had a rough night and had only fallen asleep a couple hours ago.
“Your wife—she’s pregnant,” he said, checking the chart to make sure he had the right room.
“What!” Lara exclaimed, clearly not sleeping anymore.
I grinned but quickly wiped it off my face when she glared at me. I wasn’t sure if she was pissed because the doctor had called me her husband or because she was pregnant.
“The pregnancy test we ran, it came back positive,” the doctor repeated.
“Oh boy,” Lara said, clearly in shock by the news.