Page 17 of Forbidden Desires

The days blur together, slipping through my fingers like molten glass. I lose myself in the rhythm of the hot shop—heat blasting my face, my hands twisting rods, shaping glowing orbs in the furnace's burn, the weight of exhaustion pulling me under at night. When I collapse into bed each night, the ache in my body is a welcome distraction from everything swirling beneath the surface.

But it's catching up with me. I feel it in every step, in every breath that's just a little too heavy. I tell myself I just need sleep, that the dizziness is nothing more than exhaustion.

I've been living in Tacoma for just over a month now, and each day is harder than the one before.

But at least I'm enjoying every minute on the hot shop floor, creating new pieces of art. I haven't spent a lot of time making new friends, opting instead to focus on what's important for now.

And right this minute? Creating the most perfectly round bubble of glass has all my focus. I have an intern helping me, but she's young, and even greener than I am. The glass glowsa perfect amber orange, the punty balances in my hands., and then... everything tilts. My vision swims and the world wobbles beneath me.

"Suzie!" My intern's voice sounds distant, like I'm hearing it underwater.

The next thing I know, my knees buckle, and I fall forward. The rod slips from my grasp, grazing my wrist as it clatters to the floor. A sharp, searing pain shoots up my arm, but it barely registers before everything goes black.

When I open my eyes, I'm lying on the cold concrete floor, Bobby crouched beside me, and the anxious intern—Molly?—fretting behind him. Bobby's face is a mix of concern and frustration.

"You okay?" he asks, brushing hair from my face. "You scared the hell out of us."

I blink, trying to shake the fog from my head. My wrist burns, the angry red line already blistering. Slowly sitting up, I give the dizziness a moment to settle down before even thinking about making a move to get up.

"I'm fine," I say, rubbing at the back of my neck, feeling my cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I've been having trouble sleeping, and I just think it's catching up to me."

"You're going to the doctor," Bobby says, his tone brooking no argument.

"Bobby," I mutter, my voice coming out as a whine. "I'm fine."

"You passed out in front of a furnace," he snaps, his eyes narrowing. "Your wrist is burnt, and if you'd fallen in the wrong direction, it could have been much worse. You're not fine, Suzie. Get your stuff. I'm driving you."

I want to argue, to tell him I don't need a doctor, or someone to baby me, but the look on his face makes it clear it'spointless. He's already pulling me to my feet, steadying me when I stumble.

On the drive to the clinic, he peppers me with questions about what I've eaten during the day—barely anything, thanks to a very unwelcome stomach bug I've been trying to ignore—and what's keeping me from sleeping. I refuse to answer the last question, not willing to get into anythingthatpersonal with my new supervisor. He's already frowning so hard, I'm worried about doing permanent damage to his facial expressions.

After making me promise to text him with an update when I was done, he leaves me at the clinic.

It smells like antiseptic and sadness. Thankfully, I don't have to wait too long before a nurse takes me to a small curtained-off area where she wraps a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

"I'll be taking some blood and urine samples, just to be safe and then the doc will be by to examine you, okay hon?"

Nodding at the elderly nurse, I zone out as she first dresses my burn and then does what she needs to. When she hands me a plastic cup to use, I shuffle to the restroom on autopilot and hand her the sample, my brain still in the same fog.

I feel stupid, small, and insignificant, sitting there on the paper-covered exam table, waiting for the doctor to come see me. I'm just wasting their time. All I need to do is get some sleep and eat something more substantial than a slice of toast.

"Suzie?"

A young female calls my name, breaking into my turmoiled thoughts.

I nod in response and she smiles at me, tentatively.

"I don't have your bloodwork back yet, that will take a few days, but I think I've found the reason for your exhaustion and other symptoms."

Confusion makes its way through my system. There's actually something wrong with me?

"Yeah?" I ask, trying to figure out what it could possibly be.

"You're pregnant. It's very early, still."

No.

Just no.

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