But we were so happy in that moment that I let it be. Maybe we could just have this night, let the words come in the light of tomorrow.
Chance pulled away and lay on his back, curling me up against him. “You all right?”
I realized my cheeks were wet again. But Chance didn’t know I was not the least bit a crier normally. “I’m fine,” I said.
He stroked my hair. “I’m glad you made it here,” he said.
“You think you’ll stay here or are you going to get back on the road?” I asked, not sure if I really wanted to hear the answer.
“I guess that depends on you,” he said.
My heart hammered. “How is that?”
“You worked pretty hard to find me. I guess you’ll eventually let me know why.”
I buried my face in his neck. “Maybe just so you could do all this some more.”
He laughed, the sound deep in his throat. “I could do this all day.”
“Good,” I said.
I felt his muscles suddenly go tense. I looked up at him. “What is it?”
“I think we need a little cleanup.” He swiped his fingers at a splotch of red on his belly.
My vision blacked out for a minute, then roared back in a full-fledged panic. “Oh my God oh my God oh my God.” I leaped from the bed and ran to the bathroom.
“It’s okay, darlin’. I’m not afraid of a little girl business,” he called out.
I slammed my hand against the light switch and lunged for the toilet paper.
Pink. It came back pink. I dropped it into the toilet and got some more. This, being less mixed with Chance’s fluids, was darker. I tossed it too and tried again, pressing hard against me.
This one was bright red.
Tears flowed down my face, hot and furious. The baby. The baby. God.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know anything. Should I go to a hospital?
I stumbled from the bathroom and scrambled for my purse, yanking my phone out.
Chance sat up on the bed. “You okay, Jenny?”
I didn’t answer, frantically tapping a message to Corabelle. She’d know more than anybody.
I’m pregnant and bleeding. What do I do?
The time waiting for a reply was ten years. I thought I might call my mother, but I didn’t want to talk on the phone in front of Chance.
Thankfully, Corabelle was close to her phone.
How long have you known?
Four days. I’m four weeks, four days.
How did the bleeding start?
I hesitated, then typed.
I just had sex.
Corabelle’s reply was a shout.
WHO WITH?????
I typed as fast as I could, grateful for autocorrect for once.
With the baby’s father.
The singer?
Yes.
Seconds ticked by. I wrote again.
Corabelle! What do I do?
Chance knelt by me. “You okay? What’s going on? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t find any words.
Corabelle sent another message.
Lie down. See if it stops. It might turn brown. I bled several times with Finn, especially after sex. There’s a lot of blood going to that part of the body. If it stops, you’re okay.
I bent over the phone, relief flooding through me. So it could be okay. It could be okay.
I lay down right where I was, on the rough carpet of the hotel room floor.
Chance stroked my back. “Baby, talk to me. What’s happening?”
I clutched the phone to my chest. I had to say it now. I had to find my voice.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
His hand stilled. “You’re what?”
“Pregnant,” I said. “I got pregnant that night with you. I found out four days ago. You’re the only person I’ve been with for five months.”
He pulled away. I curled up tightly, a shiver coming over me. I needed a blanket, or to move to the bed, but I was afraid to do anything, afraid of more blood, that it wouldn’t stop like Corabelle said, but keep coming, a tidal wave, taking my grain of sand out to sea.
I started crying so hard that I shook with it.
“Hey, hey,” he said. “Let’s figure this out.”
I could barely breathe. He wasn’t mad or accusing or walking away. He sounded more worried than anything.
“You’re cold,” he said. “Let’s get on the bed.”
Just like on the beach and in the limo, he picked me up. I rolled into him, letting him move me to the bed. He tucked the sheets around me and pulled my head against him. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m not supposed to bleed,” I whispered. “I asked my friend Corabelle what was happening. She’s had a baby.”
“What did she say?”
“That if it stops, I’m okay.”
I could feel the next question on his lips. What if it doesn’t? But he held it in. We both knew the answer to that.
I didn’t know if that would be a relief to him. I didn’t want to know.