Part 17 (1/2)

Chapter Thirty-Six.

Maura

When I open the door and see Zack standing there, concern in his eyes, tension rolling off his shoulders, worry in the thin line of his mouth, I feel ashamed. And guilty. What is wrong with me gallivanting around town, sliding under any warm body I can find, drinking myself into oblivion, when I have people, friends, who care about me so deeply? I care about Zack; I've known that for a while now. And the fact that I have to share with him that I was pregnant-and I don't know who the father is-makes me want to curl into a ball and die. And G.o.d, how I already miss the feeling of knowing I was keeping my little one safe and secure. My newly discovered life purpose is now just as lost as I am.

I pull Zack inside my room and lock the door behind him, suddenly fearful that the girls on my floor will think I called him over for a booty call and have additional nasty things to say about me.

He's asking me something. I can't even hear him over the pounding of my heart sounding in my ears, in my temples, in every fiber of my being. My cheeks feel wet and my lower back aches in excruciating tempo with my pulse. Zack's face grows blurry, the edges of my vision turn black, and suddenly I feel weightless.

Like I'm floating away from all the pain, all the guilt, all the sadness that weighs me down with each inhale.

The walls of the hospital are the color of crushed eggsh.e.l.ls, an off-white with tinges of gray. The steady beep of my heartbeat fills the quiet room. I sense someone sitting next to me, off to my right, but my eyelids feel too heavy to lift. Instead, I inch my hand over to the right side of my bed. It must be Adrian. He would sit in quiet and give me peace while I tried to process my own thoughts, gather my memories, a.s.semble the puzzle in my head. My mom would be crying for sure and my dad would already be asking me a string of open-ended questions. But Adrian, he would know just what I need. Twins are like that, always getting each other without having to say anything out loud.

A warm hand encloses my fingers, squeezing them gently. I breathe out in relief. As long as Adrian is here, it can't be that bad. Sleep finds me once more.

”Yeah, Coach, everything is fine.” A deep voice breaks through my scattered thoughts. Or am I dreaming? ”No, I should be able to make practice tomorrow.”

The team. Adrian's team? But that's not Adrian's voice. Still, it's familiar. And somehow comforting.

”I'll confirm later,” the voice says.

I start to nod before I grasp that the voice isn't speaking to me. Who is it? Frustration tugs at my memories as I try to match the voice to a face. After several failed attempts, I give up and force my eyelids open. My eyes feel dry and burn when they connect with the light in the room.

Looking toward my right, toward the voice, the muscled back of a tall guy with blond hair held back by an Adidas headband greets me.

”Zack?” I croak out. What is Adrian's roommate doing here? Did Aid go to get something to eat?

Zack turns sharply, relief flooding his features as he smiles at me.

”Okay, thanks for understanding.” He ends the call, dropping his phone onto an empty chair and reaching my bedside in two strides. He perches lightly next to me and reaches out a tentative hand, stroking sticky curls away from my forehead.

”Maura.” He breathes. ”G.o.d, I'm so happy you're awake. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

I shake my head to clear my confusion. Zack interprets the gesture as me letting him know I feel fine and a sigh filled with obvious relief falls from his lips.

”What are you doing here?” I ask him. ”Did you come with Aid? What happened? Are my parents here?”

Zack stills as if I struck him. He removes his hand from my hair slowly and rests his fingertips lightly on my forearm. ”Maura,” his voice is steady even though his eyes are unsure, ”what do you remember last?”

I close my eyes, focusing to recall my memories of the past few days. And weeks. And months. Adrian's pa.s.sing. He's gone, really gone, and not just to the cafeteria. That realization rips through me as freshly as the day of his accident, causing me to gasp. The fallout of his death: drinking, partying, lots of s.e.x. Positive pregnancy test. Fear, purpose, a spark of happiness, pain. The cramping and aching. Bleeding. Calling Zack. Loss.

”Oh G.o.d.” Realization slams into me. I'm here because I lost my baby. ”I lost my baby.”

Zack's eyes level with me as I force myself to meet his gaze. Now he's kneeling next to my bedside. Strange, I didn't even feel him s.h.i.+ft his weight. He clasps my fingers in both of his hands and looks right into my eyes. ”You're okay. Everything is going to be okay. I didn't call your parents. No one knows you're here. No one. You need to tell me what you want to do. How can I help you? I'm here, Maura. Whatever you need, I'm here.” He's so sincere, so sweet, so caring, I can't even stop the tears that well up in my eyes. ”Shh, don't cry.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, awkwardly managing a hug. ”I've got you.”

I nod into his upper arm, my forehead resting against his shoulder. ”Okay.”

”Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

I nod again. Now that he's mentioned it, my throat feels dry and cracked.

Zack pulls away, standing up and reaching for a cup and straw on my nightstand. ”Here.” He positions the cup just below my chin, angling the straw to my lips. ”Have some water.”

I sip slowly, letting the cool water coat the inside of my mouth and throat. After several mouthfuls, Zack places the cup back on the nightstand and sits next to me once more. He picks up the remote control attached to my bed and pushes the call b.u.t.ton for the nurse. ”Let's see about getting you some food. And talking to your doctor.” He tries to smile but it's forced.

And in that moment I know that I've hurt him too.

Chapter Thirty-Seven.

Zack

Pacing the hallway outside of Maura's hospital room, I try to relax but adrenaline is still running through my veins. That and caffeine. I'm on my third cup of coffee in eight hours. It's 10:00 AM. I missed practice this morning, blatantly lying to Coach as I texted him about an elusive ”family emergency.” Finally, Maura woke up and I can't even describe the relief that short-circuited my nervous system when I realized she is going to be okay. For a moment, I thought I lost her and that guilt and pain was nearly as paralyzing as losing Adrian.

She's okay. She's fine. Everything is alright.

I take a sip of coffee. It's cold. It's been cold for the past hour, but I drink it anyway. The cafeteria is on the second floor, and I don't want to leave this hallway in case Maura needs me. She's speaking to her doctor now.

f.u.c.k. She lost so much blood. When she collapsed in my arms, I was so startled I almost missed the wetness seeping through her sweatpants. When I lifted her onto her bed and my hand came away red, I knew something was really wrong. I quickly thought about taking her to the hospital myself but the wet patch on her sweats kept expanding. I dialed 911.

Thirty minutes later, Maura was in surgery, and I was sitting in a freaking daze in a cold hospital chair. Just like I did nearly nine months ago. d.a.m.n these Rodriguez twins. They're going to be the death of me.

The door to Maura's room opens, and I practically collide with the doctor in my attempt to check on Maura.

”Is she okay?” I ask the doctor, a thirty-something woman with stylish gla.s.ses and kind eyes. Her white coat reads Williams.