It would have been easy to let him touch me again, to finish what he’d started, but the truth was, we needed a moment of normalcy.
&
nbsp; At some point during the movie, I’d shed the robe, pulling on Cole’s t-shirt instead, and curled into his side and fallen asleep.
Damn Tim for almost ruining everything. I’m going to have to talk to my parents if he continues. Surely they will understand if I change my cell number.
You don’t need their permission. I push the little voice down. If I start disobeying them now, it’ll only cause more problems.
It’s always been easier to go along with their plans than fight them on anything. Besides, I know the lengths my father is willing to go to uphold his reputation and our family’s name.
My hand slips to my stomach instinctively. I can hide the pregnancy for a few more months. It’s not like they come to visit. By the time I’m really showing, it’ll almost be graduation.
I leave Cole sleeping soundly as I slip out of the bed and pad into the bathroom. Checking my reflection, I can’t help but take a peek at Cole’s handiwork. The small C is a little red and tender, but it’ll heal. I run a hand through my messy bed hair, smiling at myself.
We had our first big fight last night, but we came out the other side. To anyone else, it might be fucked up but, to me, knowing Cole the way I know Cole, I call it progress.
Gingerly, I lower myself to the toilet, wincing when a pain shoots through me. Shaking it off, I pee, but something doesn’t feel right.
I tear off a handful of tissue paper and wipe, gasping at the sight of the bright red blood.
No.
No.
No.
It can’t be.
I grasp some fresh tissue and wipe again, hoping I’m seeing things. There’s so much blood.
“Cole,” I yell, fear paralyzing me. “Cole.” My voice cracks, tears stream down my face.
This can’t be happening.
Cole bursts into the room, his eyes going straight to my hands. “Hadley?” he croaks.
“I’m... bleeding,” I breathe, the words splintering my chest wide open.
“I don’t understand.” His eyes fill with unshed tears. Even though his brain hasn’t yet processed what’s happening, his heart knows.
It knows I’m losing our baby.
“What do I do? Shall I call 9-1-1?” He fists his mouth, his eyes glistening with pain.
“No, there’s nothing they can do. Not if—“
“No, don’t say it. Don’t you dare fucking say it. I’ll drive you to the hospital,” he says, storming out of the bathroom while I sit there, unable to move. My stomach already feels empty... I feel empty.
Cole rushes back into the room with a bunch of my clothes in his arms. “The nearest ER is only a ten-minute drive. Do you think you can get dressed?”
“Cole, there’s nothing—“
“Don’t tell me there’s nothing we can do. Don’t tell me that.” His fist collides with the counter. “I need to do this, Hadley.”
“Okay... let me get cleaned up and we’ll go.” It’s pointless, I know that. But Cole needs this. He needs to feel in control.
“Thank you,” he exhales, placing my clothes on the side of the bath. “I’ll get our stuff together.”