26. Sully
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
sully
ILET MYSELF DROWN beneath the weight of heartbreak for approximately thirty seconds before resurfacing and snapping into action.
Because while I was devastated at the thought of losing this chance I’d had to be a parent, nothing would compare to the devastation of losing Eleanor.
And for right now, that needed to be my focus.
“Okay,” I breathed, and our lips grazed. Hers felt so cold, shooting more worry through my veins. “I believe you. I believe you, Eleanor.”
I didn’t doubt for a second that she knew her own body, and I wished I didn’t believe her, but I did. I wished it weren’t true, but I knew, from feeling the way her slight frame shook, that something wasn’t right. And I trusted her, the smartest person I knew, to understand what it was.
“But let’s get you to the hospital so we can check. I need to make sure—”
“I know, Sawyer.”
“I need to make sure you’re okay, baby,” I said, pulling back so I could see her better.
She looked so small in my bed. Fragile in a way that Eleanor never looked, except for once.
One moment in time that fucking terrified me, and I never wanted to experience it again in my life.
One moment in time that was currently replaying in my head, making me more anxious than ever to get her to a doctor. “Please let me make sure you’re okay.”
I searched her face, the wariness there. She chewed on her bottom lip.
She hated hospitals, but I was struggling not to explode with the urgency to get her to one.
“At least tell me what happened?” I begged. “Tell me how you know. Please.”
I needed to know if she was in pain, needed to know if I should call my sister, or brother, or Delaney to try to convince her to go in. Maybe all three of them, all at once, but that would probably seem like an ambush to Ellie. And I didn’t want to do that, but fuck, I was unraveling here.
“I had a little cramping this morning,” she revealed, and it took everything in me to ask why she didn’t call.
Text. Send the Bat Signal. I would have been here in an instant.
She seemed to see my expression, though, and added, “I didn’t think much of it.
I had some light spotting, too. But that’s all normal.
A few hours after you left, though, it continued. More spotting. More pain.”
“How much?” I rasped while preparing myself.
She didn’t answer, instead explaining, “I called the nurse line. I told them my symptoms, and they told me just to monitor them for now. If they worsen, I should come in.”
I relaxed a fraction at hearing she’d spoken with a nurse.
But I needed to know more. If these symptoms had continued all day, maybe it was time to be seen.
Even if they weren’t worse, just persistent.
Better to go too early than too late. A few hours was the only timeframe needed to create tragedy. And I couldn’t—no.
“Are you in pain? Are you bleeding still?” The questions spilled from my lips in a dizzying rush that wasn’t made any better by Ellie’s answering twisted expression.
It told me everything I needed to know, even though she seemed reluctant to say more aloud.
My stomach lurched as I continued to search her face.
“Did you end up taking the Lovenox this morning?”
That was one of my biggest worries—that any bleeding was a side effect of the blood thinner she’d been prescribed. I had no idea if it worked like that, but it felt logical to me. Thankfully, though, Ellie shook her head, and my knees felt weak with relief.
“Okay.” I nodded. “And you told the nurse about your medical history?”
“I—” Her brows scrunched together, as though she couldn’t remember. “I—well, no, but I—” She paused again, thinking hard. As hard as my heart was pounding in my chest. “Well, I think they pulled up my charts, so…”
I could see the moment anxiety flared in her eyes, as realization settled in that maybe there had been a miscommunication.
My breath hitched at the thought.
That something was missed.
That something might happen to her.
Because I’d been reading. I’d been reading things I should have read when I was in college, about clots and women’s health and pregnancy.
Things I should have been aware of long before this, that I was ashamed I wasn’t aware of.
I hadn’t made the connections—hadn’t followed the trail that linked her lungs and blood and heart and reproductive health.
And her brain. So beautiful, so smart, so wonderful.
What had gone on in her brain over the last seven years that I hadn’t realized?
I’d been reading. And I understood now, the full scope of it. How her pregnancy was high-risk, and therefore, so was any miscarriage.
“Maybe I should call back,” she whispered. “Just to check.”
I swallowed, summoning as much control as possible. I wanted so badly to be her calm, but I felt myself slipping. “Eleanor, let me take you to the hospital,” I rasped. “Please.”
Her eyes widened a bit at the shake in my voice.
Please, please, please.
I was begging, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to waste time calling.
I’d beg and beg and beg for her to let me take care of her right now.
Let me make sure she was okay. Let me keep her safe and whole.
Losing any pieces of Eleanor was unfathomable, and all I wanted to do was cling to whatever I could.
To my astonishment, Ellie nodded.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay.”
And then—maybe it was the desperation on my face or the anguish in my voice—but she lifted her arms, like she wanted me to carry her.
And holy hell, that was all I wanted.
I leaned down to scoop her up, realizing as I did that she was wearing my shirt, an old one I’d forgotten about.
Something warmed in my aching chest as Ellie looped her arms around my neck, letting me pull her up and into my arms. I felt her legs wrap around my waist as she clung to me, burying her face in my neck.
For a moment, I stood there, simply holding her. Except there was nothing simple about it.
Because this was my Ellie in my arms. And she was here, and she was home, and these were all the things I’d been thinking that day when she’d told me she was pregnant, and I’d lifted her up, holding her just like I was now.
And I’d never known a high like that one.
And I’d never known a low like this one.
But the one thing I knew—same as that day, with her giggling in my ear—was that we’d do this next part together.
This time, I wasn’t letting go for fucking anything.
This was where she belonged, and I’d fight for that.
I’d fight every fucking day until she believed me.
Even though I felt like I was in such a deep, dark pit right now, I’d fight my way out of it so I could pull her out, too, and then I’d keep fighting until she stayed. She stayed out, and she stayed here.
I hadn’t realized my hold on Ellie had tightened until her breath hitched and then broke, her exhale skirting my ear.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, and if it were possible for a heart to rupture, mine might. Just from bearing witness to hers breaking. Just from hearing the pain in her voice. From hearing her say those words she didn’t need to be saying.
“Shh.” I tucked my head against hers and started walking her down the stairs. Theo was by the door, keys in hand. He gave me a questioning look, and I nodded, accepting his silent offer to drive. “Don’t do that. Stop apologizing.”
“But—”
“No,” I interjected more forcefully as I set her down on the little bench in the entryway. “No, baby.”
Ellie seemed reluctant to release her hold on me—echoing my own sentiments about letting her go. But I needed to find her shoes. I needed to put shoes on her feet so I could get her to the hospital and make sure she was okay and then never let her go ever again.
I frantically scanned the entryway, searching for anything that would work, when Theo’s hand appeared in my direct line of sight, holding her sandals.
I took them, nodding in response to my brother as he murmured something about getting the car ready.
The porch door creaked a second later, and I tried to focus.
I dropped down, sliding El’s leather sandals onto her feet before glancing up to find her blinking at me with watery eyes and a touch of confusion on her pretty face.
“Aren’t you upset?” she breathed.
My stomach lurched, my throat clogging with emotion that I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Oh, El.” Crouching in front of her, I took her hands in mine.
And then I couldn’t say anything else. Not for a long moment, while I looked at the ceiling and struggled to get my words out.
Both because I couldn’t get my vocal cords to break free of the chokehold this sudden grief had on me, but also because I didn’t know how to put my feelings into words.
“I’m—” I shook my head, crying in earnest now, and Ellie reached up, wiping my tears away with a soul-crushing look in her warm, brown eyes.
“Yes.” It was all I could manage. “Yes, but not at you. Okay?”
It took her a long time to agree with me, but eventually, she did, murmuring, “Okay,” in a voice so soft I might not have known she said it if I hadn’t seen her lips move.
And then, miraculously, Ellie let me take care of her.
I picked her back up, and I brought her to the car, holding her in the back seat on the way to the hospital.
Everything is going to be okay, I told myself, even as Ellie’s pain seemed so thick in the air, filling the car and then the waiting room and then the hospital bed.
Everything is going to be okay.
Everything is going to be okay.
Everything is going to be okay.
It had to be true.
It was the only outcome I’d accept.