Page 52 of Good and Gone

After I put a few more things in place, it’s time to pick Hailey up. I am not surprised to find that she’s all packed up and waiting when I get there. I load her things into the car and run back up to the fourth floor to retrieve her. We walk out of the hospital hand in hand, but before we can make it through the doors, I'm blinded by camera flashes.

"Is it true, Hailey?" shouts a reporter. I look around and there are at least two dozen of them.

"Is what true?" I ask, pushing through the crowd. "What's going on?"

"Is it true you’re pregnant?" the woman shouts.

Hailey is behind me, and I hear her inhale sharply.

“We’re not making any comments,” I say.

I push forward, angry that they would try to pull this shit on her. Angry that someone not only tipped the press off about the pregnancy but also about her release.

“Did you know you were pregnant when you attempted to take your life?” a man shouts. “Or did you find out after?”

I'm ready to punch this guy in the face. And I would have, if Hailey hadn't grabbed my arm to stop me.

“I said we're not answering questions,” I tell the crowd again. “Now, back off.”

The reporter steps closer. Big mistake. I shove him back. Women scream, passerby stop and pull out their phones. Everyone is videoing us. Meanwhile the reporters all start shouting out different questions at the same time.

“Hailey, are you leaving the hospital against doctor's orders? What is going on with you and Tyler? Are you staying together, now that you’re pregnant with another man's child?” He looks her right in the eye, like she’s a commodity, not a person. Like he couldn’t care less what her answer is so long as it sells. “Hailey, your fans are worried. What can you tell them?”

My wife looks at me, and I can see the question in her eyes. The panic. The fear. The trust. All swirling together.

I need to get her out of here. Preferably before I murder someone.

I rush her to the car, usher her in, and then I climb into the driver's side. I start the engine and look over at Hailey. She's white as a ghost. The press has the car surrounded. They press their faces to every window, bombarding us with questions. Eventually, a security officer arrives and orders them away from the car, and I can back out. I slowly creep through the throng of people, trying not to mow anyone down. We have enough problems as it is.

I pull out of the parking lot and head toward the highway. Then I look over at her. She's still white and shaking. "It's going to be okay," I tell her. "This isn't even a blip on the radar."

"But it is, Tyler. Don’t you see? It's the end of our privacy."

"You've got to be kidding. You've spent a decade trying to build a brand that would get this kind of attention."

“Yeah, well, I never wanted this."

“No one wants this. They just think they do until it happens.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“I think we need to talk about the pregnancy.”

“I told you—whatever you decide, I’ll support.” I notice she refers to it asthe pregnancy,not as the baby. Her choice of words is telling. The doctor’s detected a heartbeat during the ultrasound, which means Hailey is not eligible for an abortion in this state, should she choose that route. We discussed driving elsewhere. Of course, as a pharmacist, I have options, although none that are technically legal.

“What do you think we should do?”

Dr. Bennett thinks Hailey’s mental state is still too fragile to make a permanent decision, and I tend to agree. “I told you, we have time to decide.”

“Wait a minute,” Hailey murmurs, her head spinning in my direction. “This isn’t the way home.”

“We’re not going home. We’re going to my dad’s.”

“What for?”

“For a bit of survival training.”

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