“It’s not. There is nothing you could have done. The doctor said this can happen to the healthiest person.”
“I know. Still, not being able to work scares me.”
“You can apply for short-term disability,” he reminds me. “And I can cover everything else. I want to. I’ve wanted to, you know that.”
I let out a breath. “It helps. Thank you.” My eyes close and the emotions from today weigh heavily on me. Noah and I move into the bedroom; he rubs my back and I’m asleep in minutes.
* * *
“You survived your first week of bedrest,” Noah says as he sets the table, like he has all week. He hasn’t left my side other than to go to work since I got home from the hospital. Things between us are back to how they were, only better since he tells me he loves me every chance he gets.
“It wasn’t so bad,” I say and fill two glasses with water, placing them at our spots at the table. I take a seat and wait for the potpie to finish cooling enough for us to eat. “I caught up on all the reading I missed from being too tired after work. Time is going by slow, though.”
“You’re doing great. And Ella is okay.”
“Thankfully.” I had to go for more testing today. My condition hasn’t worsened, but it hasn’t gotten much better. My blood pressure went down a little, but not enough to be out of the woods just yet. If I can stay pregnant for three more weeks, I’ll be happy. Thirty-six weeks is still a ways from my original goal of thirty-nine, but I’ll take what I can get.
I don’t know how I would have gotten through this without Noah. We’re not officially living together like we had planned, but he’s here more than he’s at his own place, and I think a majority of his clothes are at my house right now. He might as well get his own key, because he’s not going anywhere. I won’t let him.
He said he’d fight for me, do anything to prove to me this can work, and he has.
Chapter 26
NOAH
“CAN WE GO over everything one more time?” Lauren asks.
“We’ve gone over it twice,” I say.
“Please?”
I can’t say no when I look into her sea-green eyes. My heart softens, knowing her compulsion is out of nervousness.
“Of course.”
She swings her feet over the side of the bed and extends her hand for me to take and help her up. She’s thirty-eight weeks along today and is being induced in just a few hours.
“We have diapers and wipes,” I say with smile. “That’s pretty much all we’ll need. Just keep Ella clean and fed and she’ll be good.”
“Hah-hah, not funny.” She slowly makes her way into the nursery, hands on her large baby belly, and stops in the middle of the room, looking around.
And I look at her.
She gave me a chance to prove myself—again—and I won’t ever let her or Ella down. I never thought I could feel any stronger toward Lauren but this last month proved me wrong. I’d never opened up to anyone before. Making the promise not to bottle shit up and let it slowly fester and eat me up has made us closer than I ever thought possible.
Being honest with Lauren means being honest with myself, and that’s a new thing. A good new thing.
“Okay,” Lauren mumble to herself as she goes around the room. “Diapers, wipes, clothes arranged by color and size … first aid kit … books and toys … swaddle blankets, burp cloths … all the bath stuff is in the bathroom.” She nods. “I think I’m good here. I just need to check the diaper bag and my hospital bag one more time.”
“Then let’s rest for a few hours before we have to head in. Maybe even get a little sexy time in there.”
Lauren raises an eyebrow. “Don’t hold your breath. I have a seven-pound baby pressing on my cervix. I don’t want anything else inside me.”
“Fine. It’ll be the last time we get to have sex for a while.”
She makes a face. “I’m scared I’m going to tear.”
I’m scared she will too. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”