Page 49 of Toxic

What could I say? I didn’t know what was wrong with him, and I couldn’t even try to push for answers, since we weren’t officially boyfriends. That would’ve been a violation of hisprivacy. Maybe he had a migraine? Though it didn’t look like it—more like a stomach ache.

I went back to my classes, but it was hard to focus. My thoughts kept drifting back to Soren. The same question kept bothering me: What was wrong with him? Was he sick? Maybe he had food poisoning, but he would’ve mentioned that right away. Something just didn’t add up.

Soren didn't show up for the next lecture or the one after that. He didn't read my text messages either. In the afternoon, when my classes were over, I decided to check on him.

I grabbed some broccoli soup to go from the cafeteria and headed to his dorm. I knocked on his door, but there was no answer. My nerves started to act up, so I knocked again. Still nothing.

Standing there, I began to feel more and more anxious, imagining terrible scenarios of finding Soren dead in his bed. I kept knocking, getting more impatient. After what felt like two or three minutes, the door finally opened.

"God! Soren, you look terrible. What the fuck is going on?"

Soren truly looked like a zombie—deathly pale, shivering. He could barely stand, swaying on his feet. It must’ve taken a lot just to get to the door.

"I'm fine," he said, though it was clear he was bullshitting. "Leave me alone," he added, but his usually sharp voice wasn’t there; now it sounded weak and shaky.

He tried to close the door, but I blocked it with my leg and kept it open. He didn’t have the strength to shut it in my face.

"Soren, for fuck's sake! Don’t be ridiculous. I can see you're not okay. You need a doctor. Let me take you to one!"

"No! I'm fine, really. In two days, I’ll be good as new…"

I could see he wanted to get rid of me as quickly as possible, but he just didn’t have the physical strength to keep convincing me. So, I pushed the door even more and stepped inside. Heleaned against the hallway wall, obviously giving up, so I took him by the arm to lead him to the bed. That’s when I saw it.

A bloodstain on the sheet.

My mouth gaped as I stared at it, frozen.

"What’s this?!"

Soren cursed under his breath. He must not have noticed it when he got up. He grabbed a roll of toilet paper, trying to cover the stain, but I stopped him.

I turned him toward me since he was practically bending over, almost falling down. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close to stabilize him.

"Tell me what's going on, Soren. This looks bad. If you don’t tell me, I’m calling an ambulance. It looks life-threatening. I can't ignore it, no matter how angry you get at me."

He cursed again and, unexpectedly, rested his forehead on my chest, muttering, "I don’t need a doctor because I know what's happening. I’ve been through this a few times already."

"So what is it? This looks awful. That’s a bloodstain—"

"It might look awful, but I have it under control."

I struggled to keep my composure. "Bullshit. You’re not in control of anything. I’m taking you to the hospital—"

"No!" He lifted his head; we were still pressed against each other, his chest against mine, his face just below mine.

"It’s a miscarriage."

Wait. What? I froze, blinking. Did I hear that right?

"A… miscarriage?" My voice trembled. "But you’re a beta…" I stammered in shock, probably sounding dumb.

He laughed bitterly.

"Yeah. You obviously don’t know that about 10% of betas can get pregnant under the right conditions. There’s also a group like me who can get pregnant but can’t carry to term."

"I… don't understand. But… you knew you’d miscarry?" I was in total shock.

"Yes, I’ve been through it before. I told you, I was in a relationship with Anton all through high school and the first three years of college."

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