he'd taken from me. My freedom. My confidence. My baby...
"Oh, you're awake," a woman commented, and my head jerked around to find a nurse standing beside my bed with a chart in her hands. I hadn't even noticed her there as I stared at the sunlight and wallowed in my own misery. "I'll go and get Doctor Mooney; she can update you on everything."
Tears started flowing down my face again as dread washed through me. I didn't need the doctor to tell me what I already knew.
The nurse smiled warmly and gave my arm a gentle squeeze, careful not to bump the IV line in the back of my hand.
"You're going to be okay, Brooklyn," she told me in a gentle voice. "You had a close call and a hell of a scare, but you're okay. Just take some deep breaths, yes? Deep breaths. Your baby needs all the calming vibes from its mama right now."
My heart stopped.
"Wh-what?"
Understanding flashed over the nurse's face, and she tilted her head to the side. "Oh, honey. You don't remember—of course not, you suffered a bit of a head injury. Mild concussion. There is still a viable heartbeat for your jellybean.” She paused. “I’ll let the doctor explain the rest to you.”
Overwhelming sobs shook my chest, making my ribs ache painfully and my head swim, so I couldn't respond even if I had the words. The nurse seemed to understand, though, gave me a small hug, then whispered that she'd fetch the doctor to give me more information.
I was only left alone for a few moments, just long enough for me to realize something that made my stomach sink and my heart ache.
Dylan wasn't here. I was totally alone in my hospital room.
The last thing I remembered was that horrified look on his face as I admitted to knowing—maybe knowing—that I was pregnant. He had to have done the math. He had to know it was his. Unless...
Oh fuck. What if he thought it was someone else's? I'd never told him he was my first, and we had never discussed other sexual partners. Hell, we were nothing more than a casual hookup every couple of weeks; he probably expected me to have been with other guys as well.
My doctor entered the room, cutting off my pity party before it could really kick into gear, and I almost lost it again at her bright smile.
"Brooklyn, it's so good to see you awake," she told me with warmth in her tone. She pulled up a chair and sat beside my bed like we were old friends, cocking her head to the side to inspect my face. "You look really upset, hon. Is it just a bit overwhelming, or is there something else?"
I didn't even know how to answer that question. Both? Yes, it was crazy overwhelming, but I was also distraught about the senseless murder of a woman who didn't deserve to die last night and freaking right the fuck out that Dylan wasn't here.
So, I just nodded.
The doctor smiled, patting my arm like the nurse had. "I get it," she offered with a sympathetic smile. "Here are the facts for you. You suffered quite a few injuries last night, including a cracked rib, substantial bruising, and a mild concussion, which we have been monitoring. In regard to the fetus, we’ve estimated you at around seven-weeks gestation, and for now, the heartbeat is strong and viable, which is nearly a miracle with all your injuries.”
There was hope, but I also sensed a but coming.
“But you are still lightly bleeding. There’s nothing we can do, at this early stage, to prevent a miscarriage. For now, it’s basically in nature’s hands. So I’m going to need you to relax, stay calm, and let us get you all healed up.”
I nodded, still incapable of words. I was taking in everything she was telling me, though—mainly the fact that I definitely was pregnant. And that I was still pregnant. At least for now. The still-bleeding thing wasn’t reassuring, but my little baby was clearly a fighter already.
Keep fighting, little person. Stay strong.
The doctor continued on, talking medical jargon about my continued treatment and what they were monitoring me for. They wanted to keep me in the hospital for another few days, and after that I had to be on bed rest for a few weeks, so I needed a responsible adult to go home with who would care for me. Despite Dylan having already approved unlimited expenses on his credit