Page 181 of Not Another Yesterday
“They’ll take too fucking long.” Ronan’s already striding out of his bedroom. “She’s too pale, and she’s cold as fucking ice, Shay.”
Another contraction hits me like a train, snuffing out all rational thought, shooting straight through my spine and curling around to my front like barbed wire. I tense so hard I think I might pass out.
“Stop, please—” I gasp, teeth clenched against the pain.
Ronan halts instantly, arms tightening around me, holding me solidly against his chest. I bury my face in his shoulder and try to ride it out, breathing hard.
“Are you okay, baby?” he asks, his voice raw.
I can hear how scared he is. But his arms are strong. He hasn’t let go of me once.
“No,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. I cling to Ronan’s neck like I’ll slip away if I let go.
Shane rushes ahead, grabbing Ronan’s keys. He throws open the front door and Ronan carries me out, careful with every step down the three flights of stairs.
The hot night air hits my damp skin as we step outside. It should feel good, but I’m still trembling, my whole body cold and clammy. I hear the click of the car door unlocking, then Shane swinging it open.
Ronan lowers me into the passenger seat as gently as if I were made of glass.
“Baby, listen to me,” he says, his green eyes locked on mine. “I know you’re tired right now. But you can’t fall asleep, okay? Please don’t fall asleep on me.”
I nod, barely.
He closes my door, takes the keys from Shane, and mutters something I don’t catch. I rest my head against the cool window as we pull away from the curb. The streets are empty. Everything is so quiet, except the roaring inside my body.
Each contraction tears through me like a storm surge. I drift in and out, fading, my limbs heavy, my breath shallow. The seatbelt presses against my stomach and I can't tell if it helps or hurts.
It feels like the drive lasts hours. Maybe it does?Don’t fall asleep, I chant, or maybe it’s Ronan’s voice? I can’t tell, and it scares me.
“Come on, baby, wake up. Cat, please.” Ronan’s voice echoes through the haze, desperate and cracking. I blink, barely, catching theshape of him through blurry eyes. He’s already pulling me out of the car.
My arms don’t move. My hands tingle. I’m freezing.
His chest is warm against my cheek.
“What happened?” a voice I don’t recognize asks.
I try to answer. I can't. My head lolls against Ronan’s shoulder, and everything begins to slip sideways.
“She just woke up bleeding,” Ronan says, his voice tight with urgency. “She’s twenty-two weeks pregnant. Contractions are coming about every minute and a half.”
I want to look at him, tell him how incredible he is for tracking that when I couldn’t even keep my eyes open, but another contraction steals my breath. My body locks up, muscles straining so hard it feels like I might rupture from the inside.
I can feel how soaked Ronan’s sweatpants are with blood, the fabric clinging to my thighs, sticky warmth running down my legs. I know what that means. I know what’s happening. But I can’t focus on it, can’t focus on anything except the next wave of pain crashing over me.
Suddenly I’m being lifted from Ronan’s arms, and I whimper in protest, trying to reach for him. My fingers twitch, grasping air.
He’s right there. His green eyes meet mine, stricken and scared, and I want to say something—anything. That it’ll be okay. That I just need to rest. That I’m sorry.
But my body gives out before my voice can catch up.
Everything goes black.
Ronan
I am a fucking mess.
I’m sitting in the waiting room of the ER—the same hospital where I woke up almost two years ago to the day—and the smell alonehits me like a punch to the gut. The sterile sting of antiseptic and something metallic and sour. It grabs me by the throat, yanking up memories I don’t want, but I shove them down hard. I can’t afford to fall apart. Not right now. Not when Cat needs me.
