I reached into my pocket, pulled out a few hundred dollars, and laid it on the desk.
She glanced down at it, then back at me.
I said, “I didn’t ask what time it was.”
Her mouth pressed into a line, but she took the money and told me to have a seat.
A few minutes later, somebody came to get me. They walked me through a set of locked doors and down a bright hallway that was impressively clean but depressing at the same time. Then I saw Aria. She came toward me in one of those facility-issued sets, pale blue scrub pants, a loose matching top, white grippy socks, and a plastic ID band around her wrist. Her hair was up in a sloppy ponytail. Her eyes were too wild, restless in a way I knew meant her nerves were still all over the place. She looked beautiful to me anyway. She just also looked like she was losing her shit.
The second she got close enough, I pulled her into me. I wrapped both arms around her and held her tight before kissing her softly on the lips. Then I leaned back just enough to look at her and laughed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She blinked her eyes so slowly that I knew she wasn’t herself. “I had to go somewhere nobody could get me out of, not even my husband. You would figure out how to get me out of jail, and I was scared I’d kill myself.”
“And I’ma get you outta here too.”
Aria rolled her eyes. “See.”
I just looked at my wife, shaking my head in disbelief that she had taken things this far. “You are dramatic as hell.”
“How did they let you back here this late?” she asked. “It’s not visiting hours, and I just got back here. I just finished intake like five minutes ago.”
“I have money,” I reminded her.
Before she could say anything else, a nurse came up beside us holding a chart. “Ms. Cartier?”
“Mrs.,” she corrected. “Yes?”
“The pregnancy test you took during intake was negative.”
Aria frowned. “Huh?”
“It’s routine to take a pregnancy test during intake for women of age. Yours was negative. Since you said you had justtaken a test that came out positive, I used the blood we drew for your labs and had them run your hCG. There wasn’t any. You are not pregnant.”
Aria just stared at her.
Then she looked at me.
Then back at the nurse.
“Are you serious?” she pressed.
“Yes. You more than likely got a false positive on the at-home test.”
Aria’s shoulders dropped, and her eyes shut for a second. Then she let out a relieved breath. “Okay. Good. Great. Then I can go home.”
Suddenly, the nurse looked reluctant. “No,” she replied, cautiously. “You are on a seventy-two-hour hold because you presented as suicidal. You have to stay.”
I lost it. I laughed so hard I had to turn away for a second.
She glared at me. “The joke is on you, baby. I just got a three-day vacation from the kids.”
AVA REYNOLDS
Lying in bed with Reek the next morning, I still couldn’t believe Aria had checked herself into a psych ward. Every time I thought about it, I started laughing all over again.
Mental health wasn’t funny, and I understood why she snapped. Still, the image of Aria fleeing the estate, shooting at security, and then checking herself into a facility because she was sure she was either going to kill herself or somebody else was wild.
Reek had one arm under his head and the other over my waist while I lay on my side facing him. Cairo was still asleep in his bassinet across the room. Sunlight shined through the curtains. Reek was shirtless, with this sexy, sleepy look in his eyes. He was way too fine for six weeks not to even be close to being up yet.
