Page 104 of Once Kissed

Sofe sits beside Wren, who’s holding my girl’s hand tight in hers. They all glance up, but it’s Tess’s face my stare adheres to. Her skin is red and swollen around her pretty eyes. She’s been crying a lot, and was likely alone until my family arrived.

I move forward. Sofe and Wren take it as their signal to leave. They stop to kiss her cheeks and mine. “We’ll be outside,” Wren assures me.

I guess the fold-up chairs are for saps like me, to wait and sit still in. I don’t wait, or sit still. I lower myself on the bed and pull Tess against me when her expression shatters into a million pieces. She clutches me hard and releases her fear…giving me a moment to release mine, too.

Tess

Curran holds tight to my hand when the OB hospitalist, Dr. Tantillo, returns with an ultrasound. “I’m going to do an internal scan. You’ll feel some pressure, but if it becomes too painful, I need you to tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, my voice trembling.

I scrunch my face as she inserts the probe, which does nothing to ease Curran’s stress. “What are you trying to see?” he asks, his voice tight.

“I want to see if there’s any internal damage and harm.”

“To the baby?”

“Yes,” she explains, patiently. “Along with the surrounding structures.” She advances the probe. “It will be difficult to see much since you’re not very far along, Tess….” Her voice trails, and although I keep my eyes closed, I can picture the smile behind her words. “Never mind. There is something to see.”

Curran’s breath hitches. “Oh, man,” he says. “There’s the heartbeat.”

With a shuddering breath, I open my eyes and turn to the screen. “There’s your baby,” the doctor says, pointing.

My eyes swell as I see the heart flicker rapidly. “Is he all right?” I ask, starting to tremble.

“Yes,” Dr. Tantillo answers. “He or she is a strong little one.”

Curran kisses my head when I start crying. “That’s our baby, Tess. Holy God, we made a kid!”

“There was bleeding,” I stammer.

The doctor nods, pointing to the screen. “It looks like there was some separation in the placenta, but it appears to be minimal and should repair itself. The area is very vascular and it also appears there was some rupturing in the lower uterine segment, but that should heal as well. Either way, I’d like to keep you overnight, and do another ultrasound in the morning.”

“He’s okay?” I ask again, too scared to believe it.

“So far, everything appears to be proceeding as it should. According to the scan, you’re about seven weeks along.” She removes the probe and covers me with a sheet after allowing me another look at our baby. She straightens my legs, then hands me a picture from the ultrasound exam. I can’t see much. But I see our little one, and for now it’s enough.

Dr. Tantillo smiles as I place the picture against my chest. “You took a bad fall, Tess. And to be honest, I’m surprised by how good things look. The ED doctor doesn’t believe you suffered any fractures or organ damage, but you need to take it easy these next few weeks.”

“Don’t worry. She will,” Curran assures her.

I wipe a few tears away. “Thank you, Dr. Tantillo.”

“You’re welcome,” she answers, standing to leave.

Curran stays with me all night, leaving only to speak to his family and show them the picture of “our boy,” even though it’s too early to know the sex.

The soreness along my back and shoulders and stiffness in my legs keep me awake. So does the confrontation with my father—his words, his actions, and his desperation to cling to his hold over me….My God, what kind of man does this?

Curran rises from the couch sometime close to dawn. “You’re not sleeping,” he says, coming to my side.

Neither is he, apparently. I inch over on the bed. “Will you lie with me?”

He slips beneath the bedcovers and curls his body against me. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I get the feeling you need to.”

I do, which is why I can’t sleep. I don’t like keeping secrets from Curran, not after all that we’ve shared, and all we’re becoming. But compared to all the things my father has done, this is by far the worst and the hardest to disclose.

I stroke his arm, the muscles dense beneath his blue shirt. He knows I fell in the back stairwell, and although he hasn’t pressed, he probably realizes I had a reason for being there.