Page 62 of Baby By my Best Friend's Daddy

What a man.

“You’re the only friend I have,” I said to him, slurring my words, tripping over them. “I love you. So much. Do you know that? Iloveyou.”

Ted shook his head and laughed.

“You’re one in a million too, pal. Do me a favor and call me when you’re home safe so I know you didn’t die of alcohol poisoning on the way back.”

“I’ll call you,” I said. “Don’t come to my house. My door won’t be open, and you can’t get in, so just call me.”

Ted chuckled. “I’m not going to come to your house, don’t worry. I’ll call.”

“Okay, because I’m upping the security, and my door will be locked.”

“Go home, Landon,” Ted said with a laugh. “Everything will look better in the morning.”

I frowned at Ted. “How do you know? Have you been there?”

He shook his head and shut the cab door before I could say anything else.

I fell over onto the seat when the cab pulled into the road and stayed down while the cab took one turn after another, taking me back to the house that was once again empty and lifeless.

19

REBECCA

Iaskedtobeput back on the ER rotation—it kept me busy, taking my mind off the question mark my life had become. In the ER, I didn’t have time to think about how everything had fallen apart or how terrifying my future was, raising a baby alone. Too many people came in with immediate emergencies, and when I saw how close they’d come to dying, it made me feel like my problems weren’t that big.

“Are you okay?” Mindy asked, coming toward me. She’d already dressed out of her scrubs and wore her coat, her handbag slung over her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” I said. I pressed my hand against my lower back, which hurt like a bitch. “It’s just going to be a long shift on my feet.”

Mindy wasn’t on the ER shift with me—since I’d asked to be moved to the trauma shift again, we only saw each other as one arrived and the other left to go home.

“I’m not talking about your feet,” Mindy said. “You look drained and like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m okay,” I insisted. “I like being here, helping out.”

“You won’t be able to help anyone if you burn out,” Mindy warned.

She was right. “I’ll be careful,” I promised.

Mindy studied me as if to check that I wouldn’t drop my poker face before she nodded, satisfied.

“Good luck. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sleep tight,” I said with a smile, and Mindy left.

As soon as she had gone, my smile faded, and I pressed my hand to my lower back. I hadn’t felt this much pain in my back in a long time. I had pains and cramps with periods sometimes, but nothing like this.

It was normal to have these during pregnancy; I knew that in theory. I just hadn’t known how badly it would hurt.

“We’ve got an accident!” someone shouted from the ER; the wailing sirens of an ambulance drowned out the rest of what he said. We ran to the doors. The ambulance screeched to a halt, and the paramedic jumped out, throwing open the back doors.

“Head-on collision, drunk driver, head trauma, and possible internal bleeding.”

My ears started ringing as the paramedic rambled through the patient’s vitals, handing them over to the trauma doctors on call.

A drunk driver. Naomi had been killed by a drunk driver. Was this what she’d looked like when they’d brought her in? I felt dizzy and swayed on my feet.

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