Heaven in Hedonism (The Sinful Series Book 3) (17 page)

“I’ll hate you later. Right now you need me.” He gave my hand an extra squeeze.

Mac was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I did need him at the moment. I wouldn’t have been able to drive myself and the fear would have been crippling without his support.

Fifteen minutes later we were pulling up to the hospital. We idled near the entrance while he rushed in and found a wheelchair for me. Once I was settled into it, he said, “Stay right here. I’ll be right back for you.”

Nodding was the best I could do for a response currently. I was hunched over in the chair, curled around my purse. Even though I wasn’t watching him, I could see the vehicle pulling away. He was being so nice. Why wouldn’t he be? I was pretty sure he was getting his way. This wasn’t normal. Sin never went through this. I was losing my baby. The wait was taking too long. Without Mac near, the fear had room to creep back in and gnawed at me.

“Okay, gorgeous, let’s get you inside,” he said from behind me. Then the wheelchair jerked and we were inside the building, headed for the reception desk.

“My wife is pregnant,” he began. “She fainted and now she’s in pain.”

“You have to go up to the maternity center,” the kindly woman at the desk announced. She then gave Mac directions, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to pay attention. My head was in my hand.

Suddenly we were moving again, Mac steering the wheelchair in a way that could only be described as defensive driving, and my body sloshing around inside. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Shaking my head, I struggled to hold back tears. Opening my eyes, I realized we were in front of the elevators. Once they opened, he pushed us inside, hit the button for the floor, and stepped in front of me, squatting at eye level.

“Jolie, where has my Heaven gone?” he asked sadly. “Don’t worry. This is all going to be just fine.”

I knew he was trying to reassure me, but it rubbed me entirely the wrong way. “Of course it is,” I snapped. “I’m losing this baby. You win.” Then the tears started. I was so mad because I couldn’t have looked more pathetic and I hated it, detested feeling weak. This was the most important task I had ever requested out of my body and it was failing miserably.

Mac sat back on his heels. “You think I want this?” he asked weakly.

“You made it abundantly clear you didn’t want this baby.” The pain of speaking was excruciating, but the pain of holding back what I wanted to say was a different kind of hurt altogether.

Shaking his head, “I should have talked to you. I should have explained.” He stood and turned away from me.

“Tell me now. Explain it now,” I urged.

The doors opened for our stop and he pushed me to the maternity center desk. “Once we get settled,” he said quietly.

I nodded while studying him. He was hiding something. It was big. I could feel it.

Soon enough we were checked in and immediately moved to a room. A nurse had asked me to pee in a cup while I changed into the hospital gown.

“Let me help you,” Mac said.

I considered it for half a second. I could lose my balance, but ultimately it just seemed awkward to me. “You’ll help me pee? Pass.”

So I went into the bathroom and worked as quickly as I could, fearing each moment that passed was critical. The doors weren’t thick enough. In the room, I could hear him making conversation with the young pretty nurse who was supposed to be taking care of me, not flirting with my accidental husband. By the time I had finished, my blood was boiling. “Are you my nurse or a tech?” I asked as I handed her the specimen.

“I’m your nurse,” the perky little thing said with a smile.

Shaking my head, I said, “Wrong. You
were
my nurse. Get me someone else.” She opened her mouth and I suspected that she was about to argue with me. “
Now
.” Apparently she now thought better of it because she rushed from the room without looking back. In her absence, I began to breathe better. Sitting on the bed, I used the controls to raise it until I was at about a forty-five degree angle. With the pillow, I was almost comfortable until Mac came and sat in the chair beside me.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His words were almost a whisper.

Turning to look at him, I argued, “Oh, yes I did.”

“I was just trying to be nice. I’m nervous. Okay?”

“Be nervous, Mac, but the only person you need to be nice to right now is me,” I growled under my breath before adding, “and you’re doing a poor job of it.”

He threw his hands up in the air, but before he could speak, there was a knock and a new nurse walked in. She had to be pushing fifty and had a decidedly grandmotherly appearance. “Hello, my name is Diane. I’ll be your nurse,” she announced. She wasn’t perky. She was perfect, right down to the part where she reminded me of my mother. What I wouldn’t give to have her here now. She would have helped me get through all this. We didn’t need men. How many times a day did she remind me of that truth?

Soon my medical history was recorded, my blood pressure was taken, some blood was drawn, and an ultrasound was ordered. When it seemed clear that we had a few moments alone, Mac spoke again. “I need to tell you something.”

My eyes opened to meet his. Gah. I was completely powerless against them. “What?” I asked, my tone still harsh. Instantly, I regretted it. Wincing, I struggled to explain. “Sorry. Pain makes me cranky.” It was as close as he was going to get to an admission of guilt. He’d better take it.

Apparently my words had worked. A smile danced around the corners of his lips. His eyes were trained on me and me alone. My heart wished I didn’t like it so much. Finally, he moved to sit at the end of my bed and I found myself tucking my feet some to accommodate him.

“I don’t know how to explain everything other than to simply say it, spit it out. Just…give me a minute, hear me through before questioning me, please.” He stared at me with a pleading look. I nodded. “I’m rich.”

I sighed. So far, this bored me. Money was of little interest to me ever. Of course, it helped that I had so much.

“I’m not saying this right.” He paused and pulled on his lip while he thought. “I grew up with a title and old money and expectations. It was like wearing a target on my back my whole life. Then, at Oxford, it was worse.” He frowned. “Women were desperate for husbands. Mostly, I refused to date, refused to party, simply refused to participate in my own demise.”

“How noble of you.” Then I clapped a hand over my mouth, truly disappointed in my behavior.

His scathing smile said it all. “Then one night, while eating by myself in a pub, I met a waitress. She made me believe she wanted nothing from me, nothing at all. She pretended not to know me, who I was. It was wonderful just getting to be, having zero expectations thrust upon me. Then it all changed.” He took a deep breath. “She told me she was pregnant, asked me if I was going to do the right thing.” He looked into my eyes for a reaction. “Say something.”

I was struggling to stay calm, to not react, to give him no reason to clam up and not finish speaking. “Finish the story,” I said simply.

Nodding, he looked down at his hands. “I never suggested an abortion.” I stiffened. “I liked this woman a lot. I thought to do the right thing. I was twenty years old, on my own for the first time. So, I told my father I planned to marry her.” He played with his hands a moment, studied his cuticles. “My father found out through a private detective that she had poked holes in all the condoms in her nightstand. She knew who I was. I was humiliated in front of him, crushed by her actions, disheartened.” Finally, he looked me in the eye. “And when I spoke to her, confronted her, she told me she’d go to the papers if I refused to wed. In the end, she had my son. I left the country after agreeing to pay child support. As Liam has grown, I’ve maintained contact by phone.”

“The call.” It wasn’t another woman. It was his son he was talking to that afternoon. Shaking my head, I sighed. “I never would have guessed you were talking to your child. You’re only twenty-five!”

“Yes, and you’re twenty-nine. What of it?” He took my hands in his. “I just need you to understand why I’ve been behaving so badly.”

Sadly, I noted, “You thought I was just like her.” Shaking my head, I knew I had to let it go. His story made me want to tell him something really personal too. There was really only one big secret I had left. Swallowing hard, I said quietly, “Henrietta.”

“What?” he asked, suddenly confused.

“The ‘h.’ It stands for Henrietta.” I could barely look at him. Thankfully, we were interrupted.

The door opened and the ultrasound was wheeled in. “Let’s see what’s going on inside you,” the tech said.

My bed was laid back, the side lowered, and Mac moved to where he was able to hold my hand and see the screen. “You know that this baby is going to look like a kidney bean, right? I saw Sin’s and there’s not much to look at right now.” He just squeezed my hand and smiled. I wanted to be hopeful, but the pain was worsening. I wasn’t sure how much longer my body could take it.

Soon the warm gel was squirted onto the transducer. “Sorry,” the tech explained. “We have to go in through your vagina. It’s too soon to see the other way.”

“Of course,” I murmured, putting on my bravest face.

She inserted the wand and started moving it around. The pain had me crawling up the bed. “Hurts?” she asked.

Biting my bottom lip, I nodded. It was taking everything in me not to cry. Mac leaned over me and kissed my forehead while smoothing back my hair. I wanted to burrow into his neck, inhale his scent, and just revel in the closeness, but I needed to see the screen and it was on the other side.

Just then, the door opened once more and a doctor strode into the room. “How does it look?” he asked the tech. She simply shook her head.

“What does that mean?” I asked, inhaling sharply.

“Allow me,” the doctor said. He switched places with the tech and was soon controlling the wand.

While he worked he didn’t speak, which was incredibly unnerving. Somehow, Mac knew. He hovered around me, snuggled near, offered constant squeezes. Then when I thought I was going to lose it while waiting, he whispered in my ear, “I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together.”

Honestly, I wanted to believe him. Only if there was no baby, there was no need for him to stick around. Maybe that was for the best.

Removing the transducer, the doctor cleaned it up and finally spoke to us. “Well, it looks like an ectopic pregnancy.”

“And how do we treat it?” I asked, even as I suspected the worst.

“It’s already ruptured. We need to do surgery, immediately. I’ll see to it you get prepped and we secure an OR.” He paused. “Any questions?”

We looked at each other numbly before turning back to him and shaking our heads. The doctor then stood, shook our hands, and left the room. I was not sure either of us knew what to say or do now. Finally, I broke the silence.

“You can go,” I said. “We have a diagnosis. And there’s no baby. So you can leave. There’s no reason for you to hang around.” I shrugged, even as the brave face began to crack.

Mac looked at me for a moment, his mouth open like he was about to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he put the side rail on the bed down and climbed in behind me. He wrapped his legs around me and pulled me back so I was lying against his chest. When his arms were settled on my arms and his face was beside my face, he said, “I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. I’m going to take care of you, get you anything you need.” He paused for a moment. “Do you need anything?”

Tears ran down my face. Gah. Lately I was a crying mess. Stupid hormones. “I need my phone,” I whimpered.

He reached for it on the table, just beyond my reach. Just as he was about to pass it to me, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to her?”

My eyes widened. “Actually, I kinda do. Will you call?”

Pressing me closer, he murmured, “Sure.” Then he slid his finger across the screen to open my phone and selected from my recent calls. I receive so few calls, I knew Sin would be toward the top. He touched the screen to call her. I could hear it ringing before he put it to his ear. “Hullo, Sin,” Mac began quietly.

I could tell she was worried from the shrill tone of voice. Shrinking lower in the bed, my eyes began to water. In truth, I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation.

“Listen,” he said calmly, “Jolie is in the hospital. It’s about the pregnancy. Ectopic. It ruptured the tube. She’s about to go into surgery.” Then he relayed the hospital information. After listening to her for a moment, he murmured, “I’ll let her know.” After ending the call, he held me closer. “Sin sends her love. She’s making arrangements for the twins and then she’s on her way.”

“Call her back. Tell her not to come,” I whimpered. Now I was messing up her life too.

Shaking his head, he refused my request. “You don’t mean that. You need her, just like you need me.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head, even as I turned and buried my face in his chest. “I don’t need you. I hate you.” Sniffling harder to cover my lies.

“Right. I hate you too,” he whispered in my ear. “Always and forever.”

Half an hour later, I was being wheeled to pre-op. An IV was started. Mac was by my side for all of it, holding my hand.