Page 21 of Doctor Mile High
“Dove. Please. I’m sorry. Can we talk? Make me understand your side.”
“If I have yet to make you understand, then you truly have no concept of how hard life is for others. Continue to sit up on your throne made of cash while looking down on others, Hanson. I’ll be here.” I stomp—waddle—to the door, swinging it wide open for him to leave. “And don’t forget your damn chicken,” I add for no good reason.
His lips twitch, threatening a smile, but he covers it well knowing how serious this fight is. I’m not sure if we can come back from this.
“Dove. Everything I said came out wrong. I was scared and worried for you. I want to listen to what you have to say now.”
“I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say right now, Hanson. That’s the problem. I fight Landon every day and I don’t have the energy to fight you too. I need some time alone. I need to decompress.”
He nods, stepping outside. “You’ve never been alone, Dove. You aren’t in this alone. I would never let anything bad happen to either of you. It’s been at every appointment. It was me holding your hair the first trimester. I’ve been there every step of the way for you.”
“Are you telling me to remind me or to make me feel guilty for being mad at you? Because I know you’ve been there, Hanson. You were there when I cried over the pregnancy test because I got pregnant on vacation from a man I barely know. You didn’t judge me.” Tears choke my throat, causing my voice to heighten. “And I’ll never forget that. I’ll never forget you coming to every appointment so I wasn’t alone. But at the end of the day, I am. It’s me and this baby. It’s me providing and being the best mother I can. You’re an amazing friend, Hanson, but it’s still going to be me day to day, working myself to death to provide the best life I can for my child. Not you.”
He nods, scrubbing a hand over his face. Dark circles form under his eyes that weren’t there a few minutes ago. “I understand. I do. You’re right. You’re absolutely right. You’re still doing the heavy lifting. I’m sorry, Dove. Please, this isn’t like us. I don’t like it when we fight.”
“Because we don’t fight, Hanson. I need tonight, okay?” I place a hand on my stomach when another Braxton Hicks contraction tightens my belly. “Damn, these hurt.”
“Come on, you can still be mad at me while I help you to the couch. Then, I’ll leave. I promise.”
I lose my balance when another contraction hits. My hand slips from the door and I topple forward.
“Woah! I got you. It’s okay.” Hanson lifts me off my feet, rushing me to the couch.
He lays me down, plopping a pillow behind my head. “Do you need anything? Do I need to call the doctor? I don’t feel like contractions like this are normal.”
“They are. They aren’t real labor contractions. They still hurt, though.”
“I’m going to get you a cold rag. I don’t feel comfortable leaving, Dove.”
“I’ll be okay. I’ve been having these contractions the last couple of weeks.”
“You don’t have to be alone,” he reminds me. “I know it isn’t me going through this pain, but at least you’ll have someone here.” He pats my hand and stands from his squatting position. “I’ll be right back with that rag.”
He doesn’t take long at all. I’ve barely caught my breath by the time he comes back. Hanson places the cold rag across my forehead, the cool touch allowing me to inhale a deep breath.
“That feels good. Thank you,” I almost moan, my eyes suddenly heavy with the need to sleep. “I’m still mad at you.”
“I know.”
“Those were real bonehead things to say,” I mumble.
“I know that too. I’m sorry.”
“It’s just the way life is for most of us average people, Hanson. We have to work until we die. That’s just how it is.”
“I know, but you shouldn’t have to work like that.”
“No one should.” I try to sit up on my own. I turn left and right, unable to fully roll over. I feel gigantic. “Help me.”
Hanson laughs at me, helping me by sitting me up and pushing the pillow to my lower back for support. “Better?”
“So much better. I can barely breathe when I’m lying flat.”
“I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you are right now. You look?—”
I cut my eyes to his, daring him to say that I resemble a whale.
“Tired.”
