Chapter 24 – Bellamy
BELLAMY
The entire ride to the hospital, I’m forcing myself to think about dinner. About the fact that the children called me Mommy. Anything other than the pain in my ankle and occasional cramps shooting through my side.
Sebastian is quiet, focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s ready to tear it from the car and chuck it a hundred miles. I don’t know what to say. What to do. I’m scared, but…and maybe he’s just scared too. Maybe that’s all this is.
“Everything will be fine.” And I realize I’m saying the words as more than simply a statement. It’s a prayer. It’s a plea for both of us.
“You’re having doubts, my queen.”
I both love and hate how well he reads me.
“I’m trying not to, but we have to stay positive.”
He sucks in a breath, tragedy mangling his features. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Another breath. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, unable to handle that. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”
His jaw locks, his eyes trained on the road. “Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me how it’s not real.”
My chin trembles, my fists balling up as another cramp hits me. I’m only sixteen weeks along. “There is no curse.”
He gives me a sympathetic, sad grin. “I once believed that. Even after my father was murdered, practically before my eyes. Even as Desta was gone. Then Nora’s helicopter dropped out of the sky right in front of my children.”
I shake my head again, unable to handle this. “That was Samil who did that. Not a curse.”
“Samil was part of the curse. He killed Nora. Nearly killed you. Nearly killed me.” He drags a hand through his hair. “When I woke up and saw you standing by my bedside, I would have sworn it was gone.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t think there’s any getting rid of it. And I fear its vengeful talons are anxious to strike at us once more.” He breaks as he says that. Breaks right here in front of me. This man, the strongest man I’ve ever known.
This curse…it’s not a thing. It can’t be a thing.
But…more than once as of late, I can’t stop myself from allowing the thoughts to leak through. After my father died, I couldn’t stop it. I shake that off. No. I can’t do that.
“People slip, Sebastian. People fall all the time.”
“I should have never brought you into my life.”
And just like that, my heart fucking breaks. It shatters.
Because I knew it. Somewhere deep inside of me, I knew he believed that. I knew part of him regretted me. I saw it in his eyes when my father died, and I saw it just before when I was sitting on the kitchen floor. He thinks this curse is coming for me and he blames himself for that.
He blames himself for all of it.
I turn toward the window, no longer able to speak or stop the tears as they fall. The pain in my ankle has nothing on the pain slicing at my heart.
We arrive at the Messalinian equivalent of an emergency room and Sebastian is there again, lifting me up. I won’t look at him, I can’t meet his eyes. The pain is too much, but he doesn’t force it and doesn’t fucking say anything like I’m sorry or I didn’t mean it or I’m just scared and overreacted.
He walks me in through the doors and I feel ridiculous. I’m lost and alone and his hands on me are the worst form of torture.
“Put me down,” I demand, sharply enough that he starts and stares down at me in surprise. “Now.”
“Bellamy—”
“I said now.”
He finds a random wheelchair lined up by the front entrance and sets me down into it, wheeling me toward the registration. Only Javier must have alerted them we were coming because suddenly there’s a swarm of doctors and nurses around me as well as hospital security.
“Your Majesty, we have a room waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say.
They wheel me into a brightly lit room—the trauma room, I realize—and help me onto the gurney. Sebastian is standing by the door, his eyes trained on my face, but I don’t want to look at him, so instead I focus on the doctor. On the questions she’s asking me. On the nurse who is helping me.
“Your Majesty—”
“Bellamy,” I correct the doctor and catch Sebastian frowning out of the corner of my eye, but what does he expect after he makes a declaration like that?
“Bellamy,” the doctor repeats kindly. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I go into an account of how I fell.
“Have you had any cramps?”
I nod and hear Sebastian curse in Latin under his breath.
“All right, let’s get you checked out. With your pregnancy, I’d rather not x-ray your ankle unless we absolutely have to, but for now, I’d like to do an ultrasound. Do you think you’ve had any bleeding or fluid leaking from your vagina?”
I shake my head and shrug. “I haven’t noticed or felt anything.”
“Let’s do a quick check.”
Sebastian heads in my direction as if he wants to be next to me during the exam and I glance up at him. “I’d like some privacy.”
He shakes his head, his features growing hard. He’s angry about that, but I’m already angry, so I don’t care. “I’m not leaving.”
The room grows quiet, the doctors and nurses visibly uncomfortable, and I don’t want to make this worse. “You stay over there then.”
He grunts but does as he’s told.
The doctor slides down my leggings and does a quick check. “No blood or fluid.”
“I didn’t think so,” I say as she helps me scoot them back up only to keep them low on my hips as they lower me down for an ultrasound.
They wheel the large machine in and dim the lights. It’s quiet in here, uncomfortably so, and all I can think about is the last time I had an ultrasound. I was so happy. So excited. Then everything fell apart and I’m terrified of what I’ll see now.
The doctor sits on a rolling stool beside the gurney and squirts warm lube on my belly and on the probe. “Let’s see how we’re doing.”
She places the probe over my baby bump and the screen swooshes to life, a mass of indiscernible images as she moves it around before focusing in one spot. She clicks the keyboard on the machine and the image enlarges.
“There are your twins, Bellamy.”
Scalding tears hit my cheeks as I see them moving, see their heartbeats on the screen.
“Their heartbeats are strong, and they appear to be doing okay, but you are having some contractions.”
I wipe at my face. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’ll give you some fluids and have you rest and monitor you to see how they go.
We do have medicine we can give you, but the contractions aren’t strong and they’re not impacting the babies, so I’d like to hold off on them for now.
I’m going to have an orthopedic doctor come and examine your ankle. ”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“We’ll give you some privacy until he comes down, but we’re going to put this monitor on your belly so we can watch and see if the contractions stop on their own.”
I nod and they put two straps around my belly. Two probes on the first strap to monitor the babies’ heart rates, and one to track my contractions.
Then they all leave the room and it’s just me and Sebastian.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” He’s incredulous, though I can’t imagine why. “I didn’t mean it, Bellamy. Christ.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “My fucking pregnant wife fell.”
“You mean the pregnant wife you wish you didn’t have?”
He curses in Latin again and slowly moves closer to me.
“I didn’t mean that,” he promises, his tone softening.
“I feel…” He grunts. “Like a thief. Like a monster. An evil man who knew better but brought you into his life anyway. I selfishly wanted you and I didn’t stop myself.
I fell in love, and I don’t regret a moment of our time together, and I sure as hell don’t regret you being my wife.
But I hate that I could be the reason you come to any harm. ”
“You’re not the reason. I fell.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever believe that, especially with you sitting here in a hospital with monitors on your stomach.
” He drops down onto the stool the doctor was just sitting in.
“I wouldn’t make it if I lost you or the twins.
I wouldn’t survive it and I’m afraid. It’s the same fear that plagued me after Nora’s helicopter went down and I didn’t know what else to do to protect my children other than shut us away from the world.
From the moment I put my engagement ring on your finger, it’s been one thing after another for you.
Samil, and your father, and dealing with the press.
Now this. I love you and I’m hurting you and I don’t know how to stop it. ”
“If I weren’t pregnant, would you divorce me?”
He’s quiet for a beat and my heart rate picks up. “I’d do anything to keep you safe and protected, but I also can’t imagine waking up without you beside me. And maybe that’s what scares me most. I want to tell you to run from me, but I’m too selfish to ever make the words come out.”
“I don’t need to run. The three of us are just fine.”
He cups my jaw and stares into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay that way,” he implores, his eyes searching mine.
More tears track down my cheeks. “I promise.”
He shakes his head as if I’m not getting it. As if it’s already too late for me and for us, and a frizzle of fear strikes at my heart. But what can I do? I can’t live in fear. I can’t lock myself in a room or a palace and shut out the world. It’s just not who I am.
He doesn’t say it, but I can feel the temptation to set me free there inside of him.
And it scares me.
“I want us to get a nanny,” he says. “I know you’re reluctant, but you’re going to have to take it easy, at least for a while, and I want you to have the extra help.”
“I’m mad at you.”
“You have every right to be.”
“Not because of the curse, asshole, but because of what you said.”
“I know.”
“You love me, but you regret me.”
“It’s impossible to regret you when you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“The next time you say something like that, I’m not sure my heart will forgive you,” I warn.
His head falls, his forehead lands on my chest, and his arms wrap around my shoulders.
He doesn’t say anything else, and my heart hiccups in my chest. I feel the power of his words.
Of what he’s saying and what he’s not. He’s not promising me he won’t say them again because I believe part of him wants to push me away to save me from him.
And I don’t know what I’ll do if he does.