17. Chloe
CHLOE
I overworked my body.
That’s what the doctors told me at Chicago Med after I was rushed to the hospital and they did every single test in the book to make sure that me and the baby were okay.
I went too long without the proper amount of hydration and food that my body needed to function and having a four hour rehearsal was no help either. Those were the ER doctor’s exact words.
A part of me wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him that I was drinking enough liquids and eating right, but given how wiped out I was after rehearsal today, I know that I hadn’t.
I should have taken more breaks to eat and drink. I should have told our choreographer that I need to sit down for longer than a minute.
But because I was able to do those things every other day and came out of it, I didn’t.
Now I have to slow down and rest before it starts affecting the baby.
According to the doctor, slowing down means no more dancing. No rehearsals, heavy or not and definitely no performance. Nothing that will put strain on my body or give me the risk of falling.
Because not only was my body exhausted, it’s showing early signs of dehydration and my blood pressure was a little higher than normal. If I fall, I can hurt the baby even more.
As soon as he told me all that, I saw the rest of my winter performance go out the window.
The doctor told me that I should be out for only a few weeks, but a few weeks is all that’s left in the winter season.
I’m done dancing for the year.
And it’s all because I didn’t take care of myself like I promised Dr. Long I would.
“Are you okay?” Liam’s voice comes through the mental cloud I’m in as we make our way to my apartment.
When I decided to keep the pregnancy and Liam told me that he was going to be involved, I added him as my emergency contact to my medical forms.
It was a decision made with the baby in mind. If something were to happen, and I couldn’t reach the phone or Betty wasn’t available they could call him.
I guess as soon as I got to the hospital they pulled up my file and gave him a call. Or at least called the number with the team to contact him.
He arrived at the emergency room panicked. I was already awake after fainting back at the theater, so I saw the distraught look on his face.
The second he saw that I was okay and we were able to hear the baby’s heartbeat he relaxed.
Now he’s driving me home and I don’t even care that he smells like sweat.
I give him a nod, keeping my eyes directed at the window watching all the buildings pass by.
“Yeah. I should have taken better care of myself though.” I say, pulling at my ballet wrap that I’m still in.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You are both okay, that’s all that matters,” he says, reaching over and giving my thigh a reassuring squeeze.
I want to find comfort in his touch, I do, but I don’t let myself.
“Thanks but it’s a little hard not to. What if I hadn’t fainted today and continued to push myself tomorrow? Things could have been worse,” I say to him, still not looking over at his direction.
“But it wasn’t. You’re both fine and once you let your body rest you will be even better.”
I can see why the Knights made him their captain, the man knows a thing or two about pep talks. But right now, they aren’t working for me.
“Yeah.” is all I say and just continue to look out the window as we drive though the city over to Lakeview.
Liam doesn’t say anything for the rest of the trip and when we reach my apartment and he parks, I’m about to jump out of the car without a word.
It’s not his fault I’m in this situation. It was my mistakes that brought me here, so I’m trying to not take my anger out on him but I’m failing.
And I know I am when I’m frustrated when he gets out of the car and follows me into the building.
I’m two seconds away from telling him from telling him to leave me alone when he calls after me.
“Chloe, wait,” he says as soon as I step on the first step to head up the stairs.
Slowly I turn to look at him, just wanting to sleep and get this day over with.
“I’m tired, Liam. Whatever it is you want to say, can you please save it for tomorrow?” I don’t mind begging if I have to.
Liam opens his mouth to say something but then quickly closes it. He lets out a sigh and I watch as he slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets like he is debating how to say something.
He better not lecture me about overworking myself. I already feel like shit and I don’t need him adding to it.
“I want you to move in with me,” is what comes out of his mouth and the second I hear it I feel my jaw go slack.
Did I hear him correctly? My body has to be way more exhausted than I thought.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“I want you to move in with me,” he repeats clearly.
He’s joking. He has to be.
No way in hell did this man, who I met only four months ago, who’s baby I’m currently carrying asked me to move in with him.
No fucking way.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re asking me to move in with you? Are you joking?”
Now he’s the one that is shaking his head. “I’m one hundred percent serious. Move in with me.”
“Why the hell would I do that? I have a perfectly fine apartment here.” I don’t mean to raise my voice at him but I can’t handle this right now. The day has been way too long already and he’s asking me this? I can’t.
I can tell Liam is getting a little irritated too.
“Because you’re perfectly fine apartment is a walk up.
You can’t be going up and down four floors every single day.
The doctor told you to rest and to not do things that put you at risk of falling.
Going up and down stairs every day is putting you at risk,” He tells me, his face getting stern in the process.
“I will be perfectly fine.” I say to him, turning to head up to my apartment.
“Chloe.” Liam says, his voice sounding angry.
I roll my eyes before turning back to face him.
“I said I will be fine, Liam. The only reason you want me to live with you is because I’m carrying your baby and you want to make sure I don’t do anything stupid again.
I promise you that I learned my lesson today.
You don’t have to worry about me.” I can feel my anger rising, but I try to keep it at bay as much as I possibly can.
“It’s not just the baby I care about, you know?” he tells me, his voice rising and closing the distance between us. “I care about you too. I would care about you with or without the baby.”
“You don’t have to,” I throw out there. “We’re not together.”
Liam lets out a scuff that makes me tense up my hand into a fist. “We don’t have to be together for me to care about you.
Hell, if I had my way, we would be together right now, but we’re not because I agree it wasn’t the right move for us.
Even then, it’s not wrong for me to care about a friend.
It’s not wrong for me to care about the woman that is carrying my child, together or not. ”
He says the last few words through his teeth. I can see the anger flowing through his eyes and as much as I want to throw in my rebuttal, I don’t.
I stay silent and let him continue.
“Getting told that you were in the hospital today sucked so fucking much. The whole way there, I didn’t know if you were okay or not. So fucking forgive me for wanting you to move in with me and not wanting to worry about you falling every single damn day.”
I see… his reasoning and the more I think about it, the more my irritation starts to vanish.
The ER doctor did tell me to avoid anything that will cause me to hall and to take it easy.
Taking four flights of stairs every single day is definitely not easy.
Something could happen whenever I lug groceries up or when my dryer isn’t working and I have to go to the laundromat down the street and carry my hamper up the stairs.
And when my bump starts to grow, it can become even more dangerous.
Even though I hate to admit this, Liam does have a point.
Moving in with him is crazy, but if keeps me from falling and him from worrying, it could be a win-win situation.
Crap, why do I want to say yes to him?
I should be wanting to say no.
I can’t move in with a guy I barely know. I’m already pregnant with his kid, so I should draw the line there.
But all I keep thinking is how it’s a logical choice.
Stupid logic.
“If we were to step into this arrangement,” I start, choosing my words carefully. “How long would I live with you?”
“Until the baby is born,” he says with no hesitation whatsoever.
“Excuse me? The doctor told me to rest for only a few weeks.”
“So?” he says so damn unbothered. “I don’t care how long the doctor told you, I want you at my place at the very least until the baby is born.”
“‘At the very least’?” I feel my eyebrows rise up to my hairline.
The bastard gives me a shrug. “I’m leaving the door open for renegotiation.”
“There will not be any renegotiation. It’s going to be just until the baby is born and that is it.”
“Whatever you say. I can be a very persuasive man when I want to be.” He says, giving me a smirk.
“I highly doubt that.”
“You just agreed to move in with me, so I say otherwise.” He says, lifting an eyebrow.
No way did I just agree to…
Then everything I just said comes rushing back.
I did just agree to move with him.
Holy shit.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
First I got pregnant by the guy and now I’m moving in with him, what’s next? Getting married and falling in love.
Nope, not going to happen.
“Fine. I’ll move in with you, but I better not wake up one day with a ring on my finger.” I say, shoving him slightly.
“Who the hell said anything about a ring?” He says through a chuckle.
“And no crawling into my bed. Or walking around in just a towel. Your super sperm already went through two forms of protection, I don’t need to come out pregnant with another one of your babies before this one is even born.”
He looks like he wants to laugh, but he holds it in for the most part, and gives me an affirmative nod.
“Whatever rules you put in place, I will stand by them,” he says, through a smile.
I narrow my eyes at him.
He’s using his charm on me and that pretty smile that got us here in the first place.
Living with him is going to be hard.
Very hard.
Even more so when my feelings for him and everything I felt for him in our time together haven't fully disappeared. I will be living with secret feelings and possibly reliving the hot memories of the two of us together.
But it gives us both one less thing to worry about and if anything I will have help getting ready for the birth and everything that follows after it.
If I keep my feelings at bay, we can make this work.
“Okay, then Mr. Crawford. You just gained a roommate.”
“Please to hear it, Ms. Vega.”
I’m fucking moving in with my baby daddy.