Page 78 of Tormenting Me

“Here, drink this. It might help with the cramp,” I say, handing her the glass. Layne takes a sip, but her discomfort doesn’t seem to lessen.

“Maybe we should call Emmy, just to be safe,” I suggest, my concern growing. Layne shakes her head, a faint smile on her face.

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Wes. Just give me a moment to rest, and I’ll be fine,” she reassures me. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is seriously wrong.

Gavin walks over, carrying the plates of food, his face filled with worry as he sees Layne’s pale complexion. “What’s going on? Is she okay?” he asks, setting the food down on the coffee table.

“I’m not sure,” I reply, my voice filled with apprehension. “Layne’s been feeling unwell all day, and now she’s running a fever.”

Gavin stands beside me, concern etched on his face. “Should we call an ambulance, just to be safe? It could be something serious.”

Layne protests. “I’ll be fine. It’s probably something stupid, like food poisoning.”

But I can’t ignore the nagging feeling in my gut. I’ve seen Layne tough it out through minor illnesses before, but this feels different. Her pregnancy adds another layer of concern. I glance at Gavin, silently pleading for his support. He nods, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Ya should at least call a physician,” Gavin suggests. “Ya never know what kind of things pregnancy can complicate.”

Layne hesitates for a moment before finally nodding her agreement. I quickly grab my phone and dial Emmy’s number, my hands slightly trembling. When the line connects, I explain the situation to Emmy. She listens attentively, asking me a series of questions about Layne’s symptoms and condition.

After a brief pause, Emmy advises me to keep and monitor her for any worsening symptoms. She explains that it’s important to rule out any potential complications, especially considering Layne’s pregnancy.

“What should I be watching for? She vomits occasionally still, things like that?” I put the phone on speaker so I can write the list of things.

“You’re going to want to watch for things like extreme fatigue, generalized pain, excessive bleeding, a headache that doesn’t go away. I’ll text you a link with more things you can look out for. If you feel like it’s bad, just go to the emergency room and I can meet you there. Okay?” Emmy sounds calm and assures me everything is going to be okay. That Layne could be right and it’s just food poisoning or a virus.

We decide to keep a close eye on Layne, monitoring her symptoms and watching for any signs of deterioration. As the evening progresses, Layne’s discomfort seems to worsen. She starts experiencing intense abdominal pain and her fever spikes even higher. Panic starts to set in as we realize this is not a mere case of food poisoning or a virus. I’m typically calm as shit in high stress situations, but this has me losing my shit.

Gavin and I exchange worried glances, silently communicating our shared concern. I know we can’t wait any longer. We need to seek immediate medical attention for Layne and the baby’s sake. I quickly gather some things together and toss Gavin the keys so he can run down to get the truck ready.

“I need the bathroom first, Wes,” Layne says weakly.

I help her to the bathroom, and she closes the door behind her. “Leave the door unlocked, baby.” I don’t hear the lock engage, so I know she heard me. I hurry over to the bed and grab the bag that I started packing. My heart is racing as I zip up the bag, taking it and making my way across the loft. I whistle and Gavin appears in the doorway downstairs.

“Put the bag in the car.” I chuck the bag down on him. He catches it and walks back outside to the car.

I stare out at the warehouse floor when the sound of Layne screaming and a thud has my head snapping back toward the bathroom.

Chapter forty-seven

Wes

Ihear the thud in the bathroom, but that’s not what has me sprinting across the loft, barreling over the couch. It’s Layne’s guttural moans. My hand goes to the knob of the bathroom door, I turn it, pushing it open, and my eyes fall to the floor where my wife sits. Blood covers her thighs and puddles on the floor in front of the toilet.

“Why—why’s there so much blood, Wes?” Layne stutters over her words, tears falling down her cheeks.

She’s lost in the emotion of it all, and all I can do is stare. I crouch down, trying not to go into full on panic mode. Layne whimpers, her hands caressing the small bump that had shown up over the last week or so. “Something’s wrong.” Is all she keeps repeating. I pull out my phone and dial Emmy back, who thankfully answers on the second ring.

“Wes? Is everything okay?” Emmy asks, concern in her tone.

“Layne’s bleeding. Heavily. What do I do?” My voice cracks as I sit across from Layne, watching her wince at the pain.

“Get her to the emergency room now. I can meet you guys there.” Emmy says urgently. I hang up and dial 9-1-1.

Fuck driving her ourselves.

After making the call, we wait for the ambulance to arrive, I crawl over to Layne and hold her in my arms, trying to offer whatever comfort I can. She looks pale and weak, her pain evident on her face. I can’t help but blame myself for not taking her condition seriously earlier. I should have listened to my gut instinct.

Gavin shouts from downstairs and when I don’t answer, I can hear his boots smacking against the steps as he rushes up toward them. He stands in the bathroom’s doorway and just stares at all the blood on the floor. Finally, he speaks.

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