Page 147 of A Little Secret
The doctor’s head bobs up and down. “Well, cramping and a bit of bleeding can be completely normal, but I think it’s best if we do an ultrasound to see how everything’s going.”
Sitting up a little straighter, Finley wipes at her cheeks again. “Uh, okay. Whatever you think would be great.”
“Perfect. I’ll have a technician come by in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
As he disappears, Everett and Macklin step into the room, their shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor.
Hands tucked in his pockets, Everett mutters, “Hey, sis.”
“Hey.”
“You, uh, you doin’ okay?”
A pathetic laugh slips out of her. “I’ve been better.”
“Anything I can do?”
She shakes her head. “Not really, but thanks for coming. You didn’t have to miss your game.”
“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “Our asses were getting kicked. At least now I can blame it on our absence and let Reeves take the fall, right?”
The same pathetic laugh pushes past her throat as she dabs at her eyes with the edge of her hospital gown. “Glad I can be of service.”
He steps closer and scoops up her free hand, squeezing it softly while plopping down in the last vacant seat. We sit in silence, exchanging worried glances every time Finley bows forward or wrinkles her forehead in discomfort despite the IV plugged into her arm pumping pain meds and fluids. It’s more often than I’d like to admit.
Something is definitely wrong.
A few minutes later, a young woman arrives. She’s sporting the same stoic expression as the doctor, and it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Not gonna lie. I’m scared shitless, and I’d give anything to go back on the ice. To see Finley’s big grin up in the stands. To hear Reeves’ Game Night ideas. Instead, we’re here. Waiting. Helpless. Fucking spiraling at all the potential what-ifs our future may or may not hold anymore. It’s torture.
Nah. Even torture is better than this. This…unknown.
“Hi, I’m Beth,” she says, introducing herself. “You’re far enough along that we don’t need to do the ultrasound vaginally, so if you’ll lift up your gown, we can get started.”
“Aaaand, I’m gonna wait outside,” Everett announces. He gives Fin one more squeeze, then heads out the door as Finley’s parents look at each other carefully.
Finally, Kate murmurs, “We’ll stay or go. Whatever you’d prefer.”
“Uh…stay. I guess?” she answers.
“And me?” I prod.
She looks up at me with watery eyes. “Don’t you dare think about leaving, or I swear I’ll kick you in the balls.”
Despite the ache behind my eyes, I smile and kiss her forehead, caught between gratitude and fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of knowing that some things are out of my control even when I’d give anything to fix this. To take away her pain. Her discomfort. Everything.
“All right, then,” Beth offers. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Oh. Right.” With a nod, Finley shimmies the gown up but hesitates at the last second and looks up at the ceiling, sucking her lips between her teeth.
“What’s wrong, baby?” I murmur.
“Uh…”—she shakes her head—“I can feel the blood…” Her voice cracks, and she bites the inside of her cheek before letting out another slow breath. “I can feel the blood coming out when I move.”
“Do you want to use the restroom first?” Beth interjects.