Chapter 67 Astrid
ASTRID
“Darling, are you okay?” Seán asks when I pick up his call. “Fucking Mandy didn’t pass the message on until after my meeting had ended. She knows to interrupt me for emergencies. I’m so firing her ass.”
“It’s fine, and I’m okay.”
Roni fluffs the pillows on my bed and ensures I’m comfortable before slipping out of my bedroom. It took over an hour to sort out the discharge paperwork, and I thought I’d never get home.
“What happened?”
“Do you have privacy?” I hate I have to tell him this over the phone.
“I’m in a room by myself.”
“I had a miscarriage.”
Silence greets me for a few beats. “You were pregnant and didn’t tell me?”
It hurts that he instantly jumped to that conclusion. As if I’d ever keep news like that from him. “I didn’t know until the doctor told me at the hospital.”
“Oh. Are you okay?”
“I’m a little sore, but the doctor said I would be for a day or two.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be with you.”
My heart sinks. I had hoped he’d come back, even if only to hold me for a few hours. “Couldn’t you come back even for a little while?”
“Negotiations are at a delicate stage, and I can’t leave. Besides, it would take at least nine hours to get to Vermont. We’d have to make a fuel stop in Ireland. By the time I’d get there, you’d be back on your feet.”
“I see,” I quietly say, placing a hand on my chest and rubbing at the pain I feel there.
“Unless you’re not telling me the truth. Is it more serious?”
“No, no, it’s not. Miscarriages are fairly routine for first-timers, or so the doctor said.”
Words are spoken in the background, and I listen to his muffled reply with a heavy heart.
“Sorry, darling. They need me on this next call. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get Mandy to organize it for you.”
You. Just you.
Yet he’s too busy to prioritize my needs, and I’m not going to beg for his attention or force him to leave an important meeting. “I don’t need anything, and I thought you were going to fire Mandy?”
“I will when I have time to recruit her replacement.”
“Of course,” I clip out, failing to hide the snark from my tone. Work is all that seems to matter these days.
“I know this might be upsetting, but it’s for the best. We’re both far too busy for kids, and I’d rather we were married before you get pregnant. You know what my father is like.”
I’m astounded at his careless commentary and blatant dismissal, and it fucking hurts. Yes, this wasn’t planned, and maybe in a few days, I will feel relieved, but my emotions are all over the place right now, and I’m grieving something I didn’t even realize I wanted.
“Sure. I’m going to sleep. Good luck with your call.” I hang up before he can say anything else to upset me and promptly burst into tears.
Roni comes into the room a few minutes later, wrapping her arms around me, and I collapse against her.
“It’s okay, honey. Let it all out.” I cling to her as I sob.
“Not now, love,” she whispers a few minutes later, but I don’t look up because I don’t need to see Callan to know he’s returned from the pharmacy.
Roni holds me and smooths a gentle hand up and down my back. It’s so soothing I cry myself to sleep in her arms.
When I next wake, the room is bathed in darkness, and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. A messy ball of emotion wedges in my throat when I spot Callan slumped in the tub chair at the side of my bed with a blanket half covering his body.
At some point, he changed out of his work suit into sweatpants and a T-shirt.
His head is angled awkwardly in sleep, and I bet he’ll have a sore neck when he wakes.
A flurry of emotions lay siege to me as I stare at him, and tears prick my eyes. How is it the ex I’m supposed to hate is the one here for me when the man I’m planning a life with couldn’t be bothered to put me first?
My head is a mess of conflicting emotions when it comes to both men.
Cramps knot my stomach, and my bladder throbs, letting me know I’m bursting to pee. Peeling the covers back, I gingerly climb out of bed, wincing as pain stretches across my stomach. Liquid gushes down my legs, and I grip the nightstand for support. “Fan i helvete.”
“Haven’t heard that one in a long time,” Callan says in a gruff, sleep-laden voice.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He sits up, rubbing his eyes. “What do you need?”
This is going to be so embarrassing, and I wish Roni were here. “Could you turn the light on, please?”
Yawning, he gets up and walks toward the light switch on the wall.
“Where’s your mom?”
“She’s at my place minding Darcy.”
Light floods the room, momentarily blinding me.
“Can I carry you?” Callan asks, purposely not looking at the blood trickling down my legs or pooling on the hardwood floor.
I don’t want to say yes, but I don’t want to trickle blood all over the floor, and the truth is, I’m in agony. My stomach is cramping real bad, and I have a headache, most likely from all the crying. “Thank you.”
I close my eyes as he lifts me like I’m as light as a feather. He sidesteps the blood and walks me into the en suite bathroom, flicking the light on before gently setting my feet on the ground. “Can you take it from here?”
“Yes. Thanks.” I stare at him in horror. “Skit. I got blood all over you.”
He shrugs. “It’s cool. It’ll wash out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.” His features soften with affection, and I look away.
This is wrong. I can’t have him caring for me.
Seán will freak out when he finds out. But what choice do I have?
My friends don’t live in Ryemont anymore, and my family is in Sweden.
And fuck him. He didn’t care enough to hear my unspoken plea.
I don’t think I like the man my fiancé is becoming.
I hate to say it, but I think he’s turning into a clone of his father, the man he claims he hates.
Hurt spears me through the chest, and I fight tears.
Mom. I want my mom, but is it selfish to call her and make her trek all this way when I’ll be fine in a few days?
“Astrid.”
“Huh?”
His face puckers with concern. “Are you in pain?”
“Yeah. My stomach hurts.”
“Okay. You freshen up, and I’ll get some painkillers.”
I watch him leave in a bit of a daze. After a painful pee, I strip out of my bloodstained nightdress and panties and take a shower, careful not to wet my hair.
When I get out, I realize I have no clean nightdress or underwear to put on.
Someone has carefully stacked the pads the hospital gave me on the counter, and I really, really hope it was Roni.
“Fuck my life.” Careful to hide my body, I open the door a fraction and pop my head out. “Callan.”
“You okay?” He hops up from the chair.
“I need clean underwear and a nightdress. Can you get them for me? Second and third drawer in the dresser.” I point at the long one tucked against the far wall.
Callan grabs my things and approaches the door, turning his head away and stretching his arm out.
I take them, muttering another thanks, and shut the door.
I clean myself up and put the panties on with a pad before drawing the nightdress down over my head.
The effort involved in doing that is almost too much, but I push on, washing my face, cleaning my teeth, and combing my hair before knotting it on top of my head.
Exhaustion rolls over me as I step out of the bathroom, and Callan is there in a heartbeat, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to bed.
There is no trace of blood on the floor or my bed. “You cleaned up and changed the sheets.”
“Hope that’s okay,” he says, gently tucking the covers around me.
“Of course. Thank you.”
“You don’t need to keep thanking me. I’m glad I can be here to help you until Seán arrives,” he says, handing me a glass of water and dropping two pain pills in my hand.
“He’s not coming. He has important meetings he can’t get out of.”
“I see.” His lips purse.
“I told him not to come,” I lie, feeling the need to defend my fiancé, though I’m not sure why. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.” I pop the pills as he reaches behind him to grab something from the chair.
“Here. The lady in the chemist said this would help with the cramping.” He hands me a heating pad before settling back in the chair.
Tears build behind my eyes, and I have to force myself not to thank him again as I slide the pad under the covers and place it on my stomach, closing my eyes and sighing as the warmth eases the pain. “You don’t need to stay, Callan. You should go home to your daughter.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
My eyes pop open. “I’ll be fine.”
“I want to be here, and I’m staying. Travis can handle things at the office tomorrow.”
Tears leak out of my eyes. The man who devastated my heart is the one showing up for me now, and I’m so confused.
Callan is prepared to prioritize me in the way my fiancé isn’t, but this isn’t right.
I’m all torn up, feeling like my relationship is irrevocably broken and guilty for taking the comfort my ex is offering when I shouldn’t because he hurt me so much.
Even if I don’t know the truth, you can’t erase the years of pain I suffered because of him.
It’s all too much right now. “Don’t do this.
” I sob, turning my face into the pillow as if he won’t see me crying.
“Don’t ask me to leave you alone. Not when you’re in pain. You heard what the doctor said. Someone needs to be with you.”
When I turn my head, he is crouched over me, and his face is creased with concern. “It can’t be you, Callan.”
He sinks to his knees. “But it should be,” he whispers. There are tears in his eyes too. “It was always supposed to be me.”
“I know.” There’s no point denying it. It was meant to be him.
We stare at one another, and there’s a world of hurt flowing between us.
“Are you okay if Mum stays with you tomorrow? I can figure something out with her.”
“I don’t want anyone to go to trouble for me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“We care about you. Let us help. No woman should be left by themselves after a miscarriage. Please, Astrid. Just let us take care of you.”