Page 57 of The Little Black Rose

“It’s Ava.” Tapping the screen to answer, I pull the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Zeke. Something’swrong.”

The panic in her voice sends fear streaking through me. She’s talking about the pregnancy. My heart starts to pound, making my blood pressure skyrocket. But I can’t let my terror rule me. Ava needs me, and I need to be strong for her.

“I’ll be right there,” I say, already striding toward the door.

“No. There’s no time. Sophie’s driving me. Meet me at the hospital.”

Chapter28

Don’t Try to Hold it in

Ava

Oh, God.

I’m trying to stay calm as Sophie navigates her way through the midday Las Vegas traffic, but every time we have to stop for a red light, my panic doubles. A low groan slips through my lips as another pain streaks through my abdomen, and I rub the spot in an attempt to ease it.

I can’t be in labor. It’s too soon. I’m just over twenty-one weeks along, and the chances of their survival is less than one percent at this point. Tears sting my eyes as I think about losing them.

I never planned for this pregnancy, but now? Now, I can’t imagine living my life without them.

“How far apart are the pains?”

“What?” I ask, snapping out of my reverie to look at Sophie. She repeats the question. “I don’t know. It’s kind of constant.”

“Well, if it were contractions, they’d be intermittent with the time between each one growing closer and closer. You’re not spotting, and your water hasn’t broken. It could be something completely unrelated to the pregnancy, Ava.”

“Or it could be placental abruption!” I shout, as the panic starts to overwhelm me.

“Placental…Ava! Did you Google? I told you not to Google.”

“I couldn’t help it,” I wail, curling in on myself as the pain intensifies yet again.

By the time the pain eases enough for me to open my eyes and focus, we’re pulling into the hospital. Sophie drives around to the emergency room entrance, pulling right up to the curb. Throwing the transmission into park, she hops out and scurries around the front of the car to help me out.

She leads me inside to the check-in desk, telling the nurse on duty my name, my symptoms, and informing her I’m pregnant with twins. The nurse taps at her keyboard, and an orderly appears beside us with a wheelchair to take me straight to an exam room.

“I’m going to go park the car, but I’ll be right back. They’re going to take good care of you, Ava. The babies are going to be fine,” Sophie says, squeezing my hand until the orderly pushes me through the automatically opening doors.

I get wheeled into a small room where a nurse in green scrubs covered in cartoon cats is already waiting. I open my mouth to ask her where she got them––they would be perfect for me to wear to work––but the words are cut off by a low groan as pain blossoms in my gut once more. She quickly helps me undress to my bra and underwear before helping me onto the exam table and covering me with a warm blanket.

“The doctor will be right in, dear,” the older woman says as she powers up a large ultrasound machine and twists a few knobs.

The door swings open, and my heart skips, then drops as I see Sophie hurry inside. I’d hoped it would be Zeke. Despite things being strained between us this last week, I need him. He’s the only one that would feel the same fear and pain as me should there be something wrong with the babies.

I give Sophie a watery smile as she moves in beside me and takes my hand, giving it a squeeze. After reassuring me again that the doctor will be right in, the nurse exits, closing the door quietly behind her. I tighten my grip on Sophie’s hand, and she uses her free one to brush the hair back from my face.

“Everything is going to be all right,” she says softly.

I nod even though my mind rages against the proclamation. She doesn’t know that everything will be fine. Neither of us will know until the fucking doctor comes in to examine me and determine what’s causing all this pain.

The door swings open after a light knock, and a familiar form walks in with a confident stride.

“Dr. Kohatsu. I didn’t know I’d be seeing you,” I say, equal parts surprised and relieved.

“I just finished with a delivery, and I heard your name as I was walking by the nurse’s station. I thought I’d pop in and see what’s going on.” She clicks the mouse on the computer and reads as she asks, “You’re having some abdominal pain? Scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

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