Page 194 of Not Another Yesterday
“So what’s on your mind, Ronan?” she asks, her voice warm.
“Cat suffered a stillbirth two days ago,” I say, sitting down in one of the office chairs.
“Oh no.” She sighs heavily. “Ronan, I’m so, so sorry to hear that. Listen, this warrants my undivided attention. I’m on the road right now, but I’m only about five minutes from my house. Let me call you back in a few minutes, okay?” she says, her tone compassionate.
“Sure.”
She calls back as promised, and we talk for forty-five minutes. I tell her about Cat’s hemorrhage, the loss of our baby, how fucking scared I was of losing Cat, too, how it feels like nothing is within my control, like I can’t hold on to anything good. And Doctor Seivert does her best to help me work through it, at least enough that I can breathe again.
“Ronan, why don’t we see each other face-to-face next week. Do you have any time on Monday or Tuesday?”
“Yeah, either day is fine. I don’t have class next week. My days are wide open,” I say, feeling drained after our conversation.
“Great. Why don’t you pop in Monday? Let’s say at eleven. I have a two-hour block for you, okay?”
I agree to the plan and we end our call.
When I finally come out of the office, Shane’s waiting behind the bar.
“So, did you talk to your therapist?”
“No, I spent the last hour jerking off,” I deadpan.
He bursts out laughing. “Well, at least you didsomethingto take your mind off things. But seriously, how’s Cat? How are you?”
“Physically, I’m fine. Cat… she looks like a ghost, but she’ll be okay. Emotionally, we’re both kind of fucked.”
“I can imagine,” Shane says quietly, a crease settling on his brow.
“Hey Shay, did you… my mattress?”
I left Cat’s and stopped by my apartment to shower and change. I braced myself on the walk down the hall, trying to prepare for what I knew was waiting in my bedroom.
But when I opened the door, I froze.
The mattress was gone.
In its place sat a brand-new one, covered in clean, white sheets so bright they almost hurt to look at. For a moment, I just stood there, gripping the doorframe, my brain slow to catch up. No dark stains. No rumpled blankets. No reminder of the blood and the panic and the worst night of our lives.
It should have felt like a gift. A relief.
Instead, my chest tightened. Because if I didn’t know better, I could almost believe it never happened. That Cat never endured that pain. That we never lost him.
Shane’s voice pulls me back. “Your dad and I,” he says, studying me. “He dropped by this morning, and we went and got you a new one. He didn’t want you to have to see… didn’t want you to have to deal with it, so he hauled the old one off to the dump.”
I swallow the truth settling in. My dad—showing up again. Not in a loud way. Just quietly working in the background, taking care of things I didn’t even know I needed.
I nod, pushing past the heaviness. “Anyway,” I say, “have you figured out when you’re going to pop the question to Tori?”
His eyes go wide, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.
“Nope,” he says. “And that damn ring is burning a hole into my pocket.”
“What’s holding you back?”
“Pure, unfiltered fear she’ll say no.”
I blink. “You seriously worry she’ll say no?”
