Page 104 of Finding Our Reality

I keep on. “But the doctor had another concern. Most women with hyperemesis gravidarum have low blood pressure because they are dehydrated, but my blood pressure stayed slightly elevated above normal. He was worried that was an indicator I may develop preeclampsia, which is high blood pressure during pregnancy. If not treated properly, it can be really, really bad. Seizures, premature labor, even death.

“All of a sudden, I had these hospital bills to worry about. My parents dropped me from their insurance the week after they kicked me out. I owed a small fortune. Uncle Ray and Aunt Teresa told me not worry about it. They set up a payment plan with the hospital and started sending in $50 a week. Can you imagine! It would have taken them five-hundred years to pay off my bills.”

I toss my hands up in the air. “And what if the doctor was right and I developed preeclampsia? That could mean more hospital stays, more specialists, more intensive care. Maybe even full bed rest. Sure, they were financially stable, but they definitely weren’t counting on having to pay for their niece’s medical bills—let alone her food and shelter and pregnancy clothes and baby stuff. I felt like a huge burden.”

His jaw tenses and his pale green eyes cloud with fury. “Is this heading where I think it’s heading?”

“Hudson.” My throat makes a weird noise when I swallow. “I told him I was pregnant. He knew something was going on. My parents told his parents that I had become rebellious and moved out on my own. I needed someone to talk to, so I told him about my fears. I was worried about everything all the time. The baby, my health, bills, college.You.” The next words taste sour as they leave my mouth. “He offered to marry me and say the baby was his. As his wife, I would have really good health insurance. His parents could claim me on their policy.”

I shake my head. “But it wasn’t just that. As his wife, his parents would pay for a nanny so I could still attend college. I wouldn’t have to worry about how to pay for diapers or formula or medicine.”

Ry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s ragged and rattles in his chest.

“But I told him no. I told him that as soon as you came home for leave after MCRT, we would figure it all out. I told him everything would be fine once I talked to you.I just needed to talk to you.” I clear my throat, trying to rid myself of the deep-seated hatred I’ve held onto for so many years. “And then you left Harlan that voicemail, saying you weren’t coming home, and you were disappearing to SOI for another two months. I had a doctor’s appointment that very same day. He told me my blood pressure was still elevated.” I shrug my shoulders. “I was leftwith no other solution to my problem. I called Hudson and told him I would marry him.”

Ry doesn’t say anything. We sit in silence, watching the sun sink low in the sky. The pond shimmers in vibrant, reflective streaks of white and gold. I’m lost in my own consuming and overwhelming thoughts about the past when Ry’s voice startles me.

“Go ahead and ask me. I know you want to.”

“What?”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Lulu. I like you when you get to the point.”

Shit. He knows me so well.

It’s disturbing. And infuriating.

“Fine. Do you think I’m a whore? I basically sold myself to Hudson for food, shelter, and clothing.”

He grabs my chin, forcing me to stare into his eyes. He leans in so close I can smell his toothpaste. “Lulu, you’re the smartest person I know, but that’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. I know I jumped your ass last night about you marrying Hudson, but I was being an insensitive douchebag. I didn’t know the whole story, and if I made you feel that way, I’m so incredibly sorry. You did what you thought was best. For you and our child. I would never, ever think poorly of you for fighting for survival. I’m the one who pushed you to make that decision. I’m the one who forced all this on you. It falls on my shoulders, not yours.” Laying his forehead against mine, he sighs. “You weren’t being a whore, Lulu. You were being amother.”

Sitting back, he wraps a protective arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side. “So, you married him and moved to Michigan?”

“Yes.”

“And did you have the really high blood pressure? Is that what happened to our daughter?”

When he says ‘our daughter’, I nearly lose it. The tenderness in his voice is so loving, it makes me ache for what all we could’ve been.

“No. Fortunately, I never developed full-blown preeclampsia. My blood pressure did stay slightly elevated throughout the entire pregnancy, but it never crossed that threshold.”

“So, what happened?”

“It was the car accident. It happened the Saturday after Thanksgiving. After my hyperemesis gravidarum got better, and I could eat again, I developed a craving for frozen yogurt. You know, the soft serve kind from frozen yogurt shops? When I was still here, I used to make Holt and Ridge run out at all hours of the day and night to get me frozen yogurt. I couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Well, that craving lasted my whole pregnancy. That night, I just had to have some. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, even though it was late.”

My heart starts beating fast and my vision blurs around the edges. Does it ever get easier? Thinking about it? Feeling it?

“I was in the turn lane when a truck came speeding across the center line. He T-boned me right behind my driver’s door.”

Ry’s growl is low and primal. “A drunk? Someone texting?”

I loop my fingers through his. “No, Ry. He was driving and had a massive brain aneurysm. Died instantly. He was married, and they had four little kids. He was a deacon at his church. Just…” I sigh, “a dad driving home from work.”

He curses underneath his breath.

I open my mouth, but just a squeak comes out.

Give me strength. I can’t do this.

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