42. Hold My Hand
FORTY-TWO
HOLD MY HAND
Lach
A month later, things between Jake and me still aren’t back to how they used to be, but at least I don’t flinch every time I’m in his general vicinity. The beer he brought over was a good peace offering but not the fix. I know it will take time, at least longer than working a few shifts together, and I can wait. If the tables were turned, I would have reacted the same way. Both of us want the best for Eve, and a rift between us isn’t that.
I exit the walk-in cooler with a case of beer in my hands. My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I rest the box on the edge of the cooler and pull it out. Eve’s name flashes on the screen. With my hip, I slide the box so it fully rests on top. I stroll to the opposite end of the bar, where it’s a little quieter. I press talk.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Lach.” Her voice is shaky.
Panic sets in. “What’s wrong?”
“S-something doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel right.”
Fuck. A rope tightens around my chest. She’s scared. I need to be strong for both of us. “Alright. Call the doctor. Tell her we’re going to the hospital. Can you do that, Sunflower?”
“Y-yes.”
“I’m on my way to pick you up.”
“O-okay.”
I end the call and whip around. Jake’s at the other end of the bar with Nora. When he spots me, he nudges Nora to finish making the drink and advances toward me. “I’ve never seen all the color drain from your face. What’s wrong?”
“I need to leave. Something’s wrong with Eve. I don’t know what it is, but I have to take her to the hospital,” I spit out. I yank my keys from my pocket, not even waiting for an answer.
Nora leans around Jake. “Go. We got it here.” She glares at Jake, almost willing him to say no.
His eyes meet mine. “Eve needs you.”
I take off in a full sprint across the bar and out the door to my truck. The engine roars to life. The tires squeal and kick up rocks as I peel out of the parking lot. All the buildings and houses flash past me in a blur. My only focus is to get to the townhouse and to Eve. As soon as I pull into the short driveway, I slam my truck into park. Leaving it running, I shoot off like a cannon to the front door. Eve’s in the living room, sitting on the couch, holding her right side. Within seconds, I’m kneeling in front of her.
“Are you okay?”
“I have a sharp pain on my right side and a pounding headache.”
“Did you call the doctor?”
She nods. “Yes. She’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” I rise to my feet and help Eve to hers.
At the hospital, I pace the waiting room while I wait for them to finish a few tests. Nervous energy flows through my veins like a raging river. There’s no way I’d be able to sit and relax. It’s not even a word in my vocabulary right now. I need to know she’s okay. That the baby is okay.
A woman in a white lab coat pushes through a set of double doors. My gaze bores into her, waiting for her to say something. Call my name. Call Eve’s name. Anything.
“Lachlan Murray?” She glances up from the clipboard in her hands.
“Yes.” I race to where she’s standing. “I’m Lachlan. Is Eve okay?”
“Eve is okay. I’m Sofia, Eve’s doctor. Follow me, and we’ll go see her.”
I nod. She turns on her heel, and I follow close behind. We stroll down a hallway, passing door after door until we turn down another hallway. She stops outside a room and waves her hand for me to enter. Instantly, my eyes connect with Eve’s as she lays in a bed. I’m gutted. If someone were to rip my heart out and stomp on it, that would feel better than seeing her like this. I rush to her side. She gives me a warm smile. She’s in the hospital bed, and she’s trying to provide me comfort. My girl is strong. She’s fierce. She’s a fucking warrior. I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers. It’s probably frowned upon if I crawl into the bed with her, so holding her hand in mine will have to do. Eve squeezes her fingers around mine.
“Hi, Eve and Lachlan.” Sofia enters the room. “We’ve done a few tests, and Eve has developed preeclampsia. It’s a blood pressure condition that can occur during pregnancy.”
“Okay.” Everything around me fades away. “What can we do? How do we fix this?”
“The only cure is delivery, but with Eve at thirty-three weeks, we would like her to remain pregnant as close to full term as possible. I recommend Eve monitor her blood pressure at home, avoid high-stress situations, and do her best to manage her stress. Here are some pamphlets for more information.” She passes me a small stack of papers.
It’s easy for her to say to stay stress-free when she’s not the one who’s diagnosed with preeclampsia. “Okay.” I nod before twisting to face Eve. “We got this.”
Sofia discharges Eve and exits the room, giving us a few minutes alone.
Eve sits up in the bed, swinging her legs off the side. “I don’t know what to do. Working at Porter’s won’t be viable for much longer. But I have bills to pay.”
Lifting her hand, I press my lips to her knuckles. “I’ll take care of you. I want to take care of you. And the baby. I have some money saved up from all my freelance gigs.”
“Lach.” Her eyes soften. “I can’t. That’s yours.”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. If you and the baby weren’t in my life, I’d be nothing. Just let me do this. Please,” I plead. I feel helpless. There’s nothing I can do to help her besides this.
Her thumb brushes over my finger. She lifts her hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You’re holding my hand.”
Fuck. I am. It never even crossed my mind when I did it. It just happened. But I don’t hate it. In fact, it’s another one of those things that feels perfect. “I don’t want to hold anyone else’s hand but yours.”
I often think, what if? What if my parents didn’t abandon me and put me into foster care? What if George and Sue were still here? What if I never took the bartending job at Porter’s? Where would my life be? But there’s no more what-ifs. I’m right here with Eve by my side because of all those things, and I wouldn’t change it for the fucking world.