Page 93 of Bittersweet Addiction

There’s silence on the other end before she begins to speak. “I can page one of the on-call doctors and have them call you. My eyes widen as I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere. “Tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am, tonight.”

“Thank you…and…I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Not a problem, ma’am. You aren’t the first and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”

I hang up the phone and let out a breath. The feeling that I’ll finally get to talk to Will has me the most relaxed since before I dropped him off and before I know it I’m asleep.

Sometime that same night, I shoot up in bed, the feeling of anxiety coursing through me at lightning speed.

What time is it? What day is it!?

I look at my phone that has a text from Drew and Lauren both, but no missed calls.I’ve been out for five hours?It was now nearing ten pm and I still haven’t heard from anyone.

Should I call again?

I shake my head, knowing that I’m clearly not getting anywhere so I call probably the only other person he’d willingly take a phone call from.

“Drew,” I say into the phone before he even sayshello.

“Hey lady. I was just about to call you. How are you doing?”

“Terrible. Listen, have you talked to Will?”

“No…I haven’t. But I figured he was using up all his free time talking to you.”

“No! He’s not calling me. I can’t get him on the phone. Drew, what if something’s wrong?” The panic is evident in my voice, bordering on shrill.

“Okay okay, breathe. Stress isn’t good when you’re pregnant, right?” My hands instinctively go to my stomach and I stroke the skin.It’s going to be okay, little one. Daddy is fine.

“Not being able to get in touch with the father isn’t good when you’re pregnant, Drew.”

“Touché, okay let’s just call.”

“I keep getting the Goddamn runaround.”

“God Charley, how many times have you called?”

“Just…twice.”

“Alright, do you have the number? We can three way call. Just don’t fly off the handle.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. “I won’t!”

“Right. I can hear the anxiety in your voice.”

I make a face at the phone as I hear him click off of our call to dial the facility. The next thing I know I hear the phone ringing.

“Atlanta Rehabilitation Facility, this is April.”

“Hi, April, my name is Andrew Montgomery, my brother was admitted there yesterday, and I’m just checking on him. Is there any way I can speak to him?”

“Unfortunately, sir, it’s after hours.” I clench my hand around my phone, squeezing it harder.I am going to fucking lose it.

“I know, I know the hours are from four to six, but I was hoping you could help me out? His pregnant fiancée is here with me and she’s about losing her mind that no one is letting her talk to him. Five minutes that’s all I’m asking.”

“Well…” April trails off.

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