I get up, and the room tilts when that sharp pain radiates through me again. My skin feels clammy, and my heartbeat is now pounding in my ears, making me lightheaded.
“What’s going on, kiddo?” Alarm laces his tone.
I hold on to the back of the couch, my vision blurring again. As my knees buckle, I try to steady myself. “Something’s wrong,” I say.
Dad stands so fast that the remote clatters onto the floor. “Talk to me. Where does it hurt?”
I gulp through the nausea, and the pain stabs me deep in the side. White hot and relentless.
A wave of dizziness overtakes me. And then everything goes black.
Chapter 47
BLAKE
WHEN I OPEN MY EYES, the world feels slow and heavy, like I’m surfacing from the bottom of a deep, dark lake. All I feel is confusion. A bright light stings my eyes. A monitor beeps softly nearby. There’s the sterile smell of antiseptic in my nose and a dull throb in my abdomen.
The last thing I remember, I was feeling sick. I was dizzy. Stumbling. I remember my dad’s worried eyes on me, his arms reaching for me before I fainted. Oh my God. He brought me to the hospital because Ifainted? He’s so melodramatic.
I swallow through my arid throat and try to speak. I only manage a rusty squawking noise at first before finally getting out a croaky, “Dad?”
There’s a flurry of motion around me. The next thing I know, I see my mother’s face, pale and lined with concern. Then Dad is on the other side of the bed, his expression grim.
“Hey, sweet pea, how are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I say. “My stomach hurts.”
Neither of them answers.
I lick my dry lips. “Why am I in the hospital? Did you overreact and bring me here?”
When I attempt to sit up, Mom firmly touches my arm to keep me down. “Nope, don’t move yet, honey. You just got out of surgery.”
“Surgery? For fainting?” I say in confusion.
My gaze darts around the room, then focuses on my own body. I realize I have one of those heart monitor things on my finger.
“I don’t understand,” I finally say.
“You had an ectopic pregnancy,” she says gently. “It ruptured, and there was some internal bleeding.”
“Scared the hell out of us,” Dad says.
“We’re so lucky we got you here when we did.” Her voice shakes, and I realize how scared they both look.
I try to move again, but Dad stops me. “You need to stay still. I’ll get the doctor so she can check you out, okay?”
As he hurries out the door, Mom squeezes my hand. “We were so worried about you. So was Wyatt. The Grahams are in the waiting room. He wanted to be in here with you, but I thought you might want me and Dad to be the first people you saw while you process.”
“Process,” I echo weakly. “I don’t understand. So I’m not pregnant anymore?”
I’m usually not this stupid, and I can sense that the question is dumb, but my brain is fuzzy, and I still can’t comprehend what’s happening.
“Ectopic pregnancy… That means… The embryo implanted outside the uterus?”
She nods. “In your left fallopian tube.”
“It was just cramps…” I trail off when footsteps approach the door.
