Page 25 of Ruin The Friendship
“It feels better with the ice,” Lydia says as I open the car door for her. “I really don’t need to go in.”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry. It was swelling before we even left the ice.”
She climbs in, and I help her get buckled in, being careful of her arm.
“I know, but really, I don’t need to go.”
“You need X-rays.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Stop fighting me on this,” I say, a bit harshly, as I shut her door.
I take a deep breath, trying to slow my rapidly pounding heart. She’s okay, it’s just her wrist. It’s not like she hit her head or anything.
Shit,I didn’t even ask her if she hit her head.
I race to my side of my car, climbing in and shutting the door behind me.
“Did you hit your head?” I ask in a panic.
She leans forward to adjust her heated seat. “What? No, I didn’t.”
“Are you sure? Let me see your pupils.” I turn on the center light and take her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turning her head to face me.
Her eyes are wide as she takes in my worried expression, but her pupils look okay. I let my gaze linger on those beautiful blue orbs of hers. They’re the first thing I see when I close my eyes every night. I could spend hours finding each and every speck of navy in them, watching them widen when she gets excited about her newest projector fixation. Her breath catches as I stare at her for longer than necessary, but I allow myself one more moment.
“Does your head hurt at all?”
With an irritated huff, she rips her eyes from mine and says no. At least I’m confident that she doesn’t have a concussion.
“What hospital should we go to?”
“Please. I’m fine. There’s no need to go to the hospital.”
“We’re going. If it’s broken, you need a cast, and if it’s not, well, at least we got it checked.” I put the car in drive and head out of the parking lot. “Put your hospital into the GPS. I want to make sure it’s at least in-network for you.”
“Fine,” she grumbles. “But when nothing is wrong with me, you’re paying my hospital bill. I can’t afford an ER bill for nothing right now.”
“Deal.” I was already planning on footing the bill regardless, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Money is tight for her, especially since she insists on paying rent. She doesn’t have to. I bought the place outright with my signing bonus six years ago, but she insisted.
What she doesn’t know is that I’ve saved every single penny of rent she’s paid me in a high-interest savings account for the day she eventually moves out. She deserves the world, and I’m going to do my best to give it to her.
11
LITTLE BEAN
LYDIA
We linger in the waiting room for nearly two hours before getting taken back to a room. My wrist aches, but I really don’t think it’s broken. If it were a weekday or if any urgent care were open, I’d suggest we go there, but we’re out of luck because it’s a Sunday night.
My plan of waiting to tell Fletcher I’m pregnant is about to be blown out of the water. They’re going to want to do X-rays, and I’ll have to drop the news. Only now, I’m worried about the baby.
Could my fall have hurt them? Would an ultrasound be able to see anything this early? My uninjured hand shakes as I climb onto the hospital bed, cradling the now-melted bag of ice to my wrist. The nurse asks me a few questions, and I debate whether now would be an appropriate time to tell her, but she finishes her questions and leaves, saying the doctor will be in shortly.
Fletcher scrolls aimlessly on his phone while I build up the courage to reveal my secret. I have to tell him now; it’s the right thing to do. What will his reaction be? Will he bedisappointed in me? I mean, why wouldn’t he? My life is a mess, and I have no idea how to fix it.
