Page 162 of Diego

Blair’s face crumples again.

I lift Blair’s hand and press it against my mouth. “Hear that?”

She looks at me, tears still clinging to her lashes, and nods once.

Dr. Mehta finishes the scan, takes several measurements, and shows us the heartbeat one more time before removing the probe. The nurse helps Blair settle back against the pillows while Dr. Mehta washes her hands and then pulls a chair closer to the bed.

“Because of the amount of bleeding you had and the size of the hematoma, I want to be cautious for the next couple of weeks,” she says. “I do not mean complete immobility. I do not want you lying flat in bed twenty-four hours a day. But I do want you off work for now, mostly at home, limiting prolonged time on your feet, no exercise, no heavy lifting, and no sex until I clear you. I also want another ultrasound in about a week so we can see whether the hematoma is shrinking.”

Blair stares at her. “Off work?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“I want to reassess after the next ultrasound. If there is no further bleeding and the hematoma is getting smaller, we can talk about gradually increasing activity. If it is unchanged or you bleed again, the restrictions continue.”

I can already see Blair trying to calculate clients, appointments, listings, emails, and everything else she thinks the world cannot manage without her.

Dr. Mehta sees it too. “This is one of those times when your job has to come second.”

Blair exhales slowly. “Okay.”

I know that was hard for her to say, so I'm proud of her.

“What happens if I bleed again?” Blair asks.

“You call. If you have heavy bleeding that soaks through a pad quickly, severe or persistent pain, dizziness, fainting, fever, or anything that frightens you, you come back immediately. Some additional bleeding can happen as the hematoma resolves, and it may be brown or dark as older blood passes, but I want to know about it. I also don't want you alone.”

I look at Blair. “She will not be alone,” I say quickly.

Her head turns toward me, and her expression is a question.

I feel the history of the last week dissolve immediately. It doesn't matter now. The only thing that matters is Blair and this baby.

“I'll be there,” I tell Dr. Mehta.

Blair studies me for a moment, and I wait for the argument.

It does not come.

“Okay,” she says quietly.

That one word brings me mountains of relief.

Dr. Mehta stands. “I’m going to give you both a few minutes. I know it's not ideal, but I would really like to observe you overnight. I just want to make sure the bleeding has tapered off, and there's no more pain. If you remain stable, I can discharge you tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Blair says, and I echo it.

Dr. Mehta pauses at the door. “The most important thing right now is that you came in, we found the source of the bleeding, and the pregnancy is still viable. Try to let yourselves have that before you start worrying about every possibility that comes after it.”

Then she leaves, taking the nurse and the ultrasound cart with her.

The room becomes quiet again.

Blair looks down at our hands.

For a long moment, neither of us says anything. There is too much to fit into words, and for once I do not try. I move closer instead, easing onto the edge of the bed again and opening my arms.