Chapter 71

I had begun to cramp the moment we’d come down here, and now the stress had risen it to nearly knife-like proportions. It was only through my own indignation that I hadn’t winced.

“I need to get back to work.” Or rather, I needed to collapse somewhere and gasp like an out-of-water fish.

I didn’t give them any time to answer. I all but ran out the door, past the eavesdropping middle-aged janitors, who both jumped at my sudden appearance and slammed the doors-close button once in the elevator. The moment the doors closed, I slid to the ground, breathing deep into my stomach in an attempt to ease the contractions. A cold sweat had started up along my brow.

“Just great,” I mumbled to myself. “Really grown up, Alaina.”

Somehow, through a miracle, my ride up the tower didn’t get interrupted once by any other passengers, so I was allowed to sit there hurting and hugging my baby bump until I reached the top where the chief’s office resided. Unfortunately, the doors opened while I was still struggling to my feet, hand about my midriff, and Reuben Czarn had to be the one waiting outside.

He took one look at me and gave his darkest frown.

“I just need to sit down,” I said quickly.

He said nothing as he crossed the space between us in one stride, then swept me up into his arms without so much as a warning. I swallowed back my surprise, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was.

I could feel Mrs. Wood’s and Mr. Jewk’s eyes on us as he strode through the office. LeFevre, his shadows only a little lighter than the day before, echoed Reuben’s frown.

“Have a doctor on standby,” Reuben told him, to my horror.

“What?”

“Yes, sir,” said LeFevre.

“It’s just some contractions. I just got in a fight with my friends—”

But he didn’t speak until the heavy mahogany doors of his personal office had closed behind him.

“You were white as a sheet and doubled over,” he said. “The doctor was very specific on avoiding these situations. It isn’t a good sign to be in such pain at only six months. At this rate, you’re going to lose the baby.”

“I didn’t—I wasn’t planning for that.” I sounded weak even to myself.

He set me down on the couch very gently, making sure I had the support of a pillow on my lower back. Those pillows hadn’t even existed until a few weeks ago.

“You’re staying here for today. Don’t even think about working.”

I whimpered, but I knew I had no right to argue. This wasn’t just my own baby. And, well, I should have controlled myself. I’d threatened this man’s family, so of course, he’d be furious with me.

That knowledge did nothing to help in my relaxing.

Reuben left the office for a bit, leaving me in the heavy silence. I rode through the cramps, doing my best not to cry, and tried to focus on the little gold and glass lion on his desk as a sort of meditation point. Instead, I ended up closing my eyes completely and pretending I was in the mountains on that prairie somewhere, a little cabin with all the necessities, and my feet stained from grass and wildflowers.

He returned with a heating pad, which he tucked under my back, and a blanket. I didn’t open my eyes, though, until I felt his fingertips brushing aside my bangs.

“Does it hurt that bad?”

He was giving me that tender thing of a look that always heated me with his affection.

Seeing it broke the fine line of my control, and tears bubbled up in my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your baby,” I said.

“Shh, shh.” His warm thumbs wiped away my tears. “I’m not mad. I’m just worried. I can’t stand it when you’re in pain, and I know you worry about our baby just as much as me.” He paused, every second of watching me cry making his handsome face bunch with pain more and more. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not mad at you. And even if we lose the baby, I will still love you.”

I gave a violent sniff. “Stop talking like we’re married already.”

His smile was brief and small. “I’m sorry.” Then, after a second, which his tear-soaked thumb brushed across my lips, he said. “But, after this, I’m sorry, I must insist you take a leave of work.”

I nodded. I didn’t have anything to fight back with. “Okay.” I hurt. My friends had disappointed and betrayed me. My mom was a flake. My dad was nonexistent. My ex wouldn’t leave me alone and kept reminding me of how awful and world-ending heartbreak felt, and at this rate, I wouldn’t even be able to finish my last semester of school anyway. It felt as though all my relationships had just fallen through and now even my job and last means of security was a bust.

Reuben’s hand started to stroke my head. The motion was oddly soothing. I couldn’t remember anyone doing this to me as a child either.

“The doctor will be here soon. You don’t have to move; you don’t have to worry about anything. Please, Alaina, let me take care of you. At least just for now, when you need it. I’m not trying to take your independence, and I’m not slighting your abilities, but…”

I knew his unspoken words: for the baby’s sake.

I covered my face with my hands.

But his next words surprised me.

“For your sake, Alaina. You’ve prepared that baby basket so lovingly. I’m afraid it will crush you to see it stay empty.”

That made me cry harder. I suddenly wish I had it, swaddling blanket and all, so I could crush it to my chest.

“Which reminds me,” his hand on my head stopped, and I couldn’t hold back a whine at its loss. He chuckled, making my neck grow hot, but I lowered my hands so I could watch him go to his desk and pull out on rectangular box from a drawer.

“The embroidery took longer than I had hoped.”

He handed me the box, a light, black, cardboard thing.

After sniffing and wiping my eyes some more, I found where the end of the lid was with my nails and wiggled it off.

Inside was a familiar ultra-plush, softer than soft blanket from the private jet, except instead of a dark maroon, it was a light baby blue. On its topmost corner, facing up so I could see, were the words ‘Baby Bean’ in beautiful teal embroidery.

My heart trembled.

“It’s cut down to crib size,” he said. “Just as you asked.”

I took out the fuzzy blanket with slightly shaking hands. It unfolded to the size of a lap blanket, and even as my fingers sunk into the fuzz, I could see myself wrapping up a little loaf-sized person in its warm depths.

He was going to be a winter baby after all.

I suddenly didn’t know why I had fought so hard to keep working, why I’d fought so hard to stay strong. To think I’d put being able to run around the building and dance above the very life of my Baby Bean, it suddenly seemed no different than if I had decided to abort him.

I hugged the blanket to me. “Do you…do you feel like moving in?”

Reuben’s jaw dropped.

“Wha—with—are you feeling alright?”

I sniffed again and looked him in the eye. “Until the baby’s born, I…I need help. I don’t want it, I hate it, it feels awful to ask, but you’re right, and I—“

“It’s okay. You don’t have to push yourself.”

“But my baby—”

“Your baby will be fine; I’ll make sure of it. Just tell me what you need. I’m with you all the way. I promise.”

I giggled a bit. “You really do say the cheesiest things.”

He smiled. “No helping it if it’s true.”

I took the hand he had set on my lap and gave it a squeeze.

“Then…stay with me. Help me have our baby.”