“Eric—” I groan, not knowing what to say.

“If we find out there is a tear in the placenta this early in the pregnancy and there’s nothing that can be done, then all we have is a waiting game, hoping it doesn’t rupture until we reach twenty-two weeks.” He reaches for my arm, urging me to look at him. “If that’s the case, we’re terminating the pregnancy, and I don’t think anyone would blame us.”

“Of course not,” I mutter, my voice hoarse. “But Eric, when it comes down to it, I don’t think I have it in me to abort this baby. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“But you’d have me live without you?” The raw anger in his voice fills the room.

“Let’s not cross any bridges before we get to them, okay?” I try to soothe him and defuse his anxiety.

“Ivy, you can’t pretend like this isn’t happening. I’m not going to play the ‘what if’ game with you. Because it’s not a game. It’s a situation with dire consequences, and I’m not losing you. I’m not!” he exclaims, sweeping back his arm and knocking a box of tissues off the bedside table.

“Is everything all right in here?” a nurse asks, knocking before opening the door.

“Yes,” I somehow manage to respond.

“Because I heard some yelling in here and Dr. P. told me that no one was to get you agitated,” she says, glaring at Eric.

“That’s fine because I was just leaving,” Eric remarks snidely, brushing past her.

“Eric, where are you going? They’re going to be discharging me soon,” I protest, leaning back on my elbows.

“I need some air. I won’t be long.” He gazes at me defiantly. “Besides, I don’t think it’s good for me to be around you right now.”

The nurse clucks her tongue, watching him depart.

“Well, if you need anything, sweetie, hit the call button. I’m just waiting on the pharmacy to fill that progesterone prescription that Dr. P. ordered for you. Then we’ll get the ball rolling on your release so you can go home and rest.” She walks over to help fluff up my pillows. “And don’t worry about your man. Guys are terrible when it comes to dealing with emotional situations. They all run off like scared chickens. Let him go outside and mutter to himself for a while. He’ll be better when he comes back in, I promise. I see it every day.”

“He’s kind of a special case,” I admit, not wanting to go into too much detail.

“I know who he is. I know his story,” she says, propping her hands on her hips. “Sure, he’s excited, but he doesn’t have to get you all worked up. And my main concern is you, not him. Like I said, he’ll be fine. Ever since I saw him on the news, I’ve been praying for him.”

“You have?” I ask in bewilderment. “Why?”

“Because I’m a firm believer in the power of prayer,” she states matter-of-factly. “God has a reason behind everything whether we’re able to see it or not. I don’t think anything bad is going to happen to you or that baby.”

“How can you be so sure?” I admire her confidence, but there’s a fine line between being realistically positive and simply delusional.

“What he went through with that girl wasn’t for nothing,” she says, smoothing her mocha-colored hand over my forehead. “What he learned in his time of trouble was earned at the expense of a crippling loss. And honey child, God just ain’t that cruel. That wisdom he gained about life and about himself is gonna carry the two of you through this.”

“That’s a nice way of looking at things,” I answer, not quite sure how to respond to her heartfelt proclamation.

“Nice? Divine inspiration is more like it.” She smiles, the warmth of her laughter filling the broken place in my heart. “Listen to Nurse Wanda now. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen a lot of joy and a lot of heartache after working in this hospital for forty years. God only gives you what you can handle, although I don’t know why he keeps on putting that man of yours to the test.”

“Or past the breaking point,” I mumble, wishing I could get out of this bed and comfort him.

“Nah, darlin.’ Not that far. He has you now. He’ll never go down that road again,” Wanda assures me, tucking me back under the covers, just like Eric had done.

“But what if something happens—” I don’t even want to think about it.

“If, if, if—nothing but if with you and him,” she chides, patting me on the head. “God has a plan for each and every one of us. Cling to that and don’t let go. No more ifs. He will guide you through any storm. He will not leave you unprotected.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” I say, smiling up at her. I’m not religious by any means, but her words are definitely giving me something to think about.

“Where’s your mother, child? You’re nothing but a babe yourself. Why ain’t she here, holding your hand?” Wanda glances down at me in concern.

I want to say, “None of your damn business.” But I don’t. From anyone else, it would feel like prying, but I can tell, for whatever reason, Wanda truly cares. She’s not just being nosy.

“Because she’s probably drunk,” I say without emotion. “I moved out when I went away to college, and I never really went back. I worked most summers and stayed in the dorm while everyone else went home. She’s never really been there for me, you know? I still haven’t even told her that I’m pregnant.”

“But you still talk?” Wanda prompts.

“Every once and a while on the phone. She’s usually complaining about how she doesn’t have enough money and that I could be helping her more instead of only being concerned about myself.” I keep talking, unable to stop now that I have a willing audience. “She doesn’t understand why receiving a degree is so important to me, when I could be working two jobs and supporting the both of us.”

“What does your man say about her?” Wanda asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Honestly?” I shrug my shoulders. “They’ve never met. I’ve never even told him that much about her.”

“And he doesn’t ask?”

“He tried to a couple of times, but I usually change the subject or give him a few vague details. She wasn’t the best mother growing up. She hit me a lot when she was tired and hung over. Or else she was out with a different man every night. We never had any money. I remember going to school with holes in my sneakers and wearing secondhand jeans. That’s what made me so determined to make something of myself. And if I’m able to have this baby, I’m going to be there for it. But now Eric’s telling me I have to give it up.”

I collapse into a fresh round of tears as Wanda pats me on the back.

“There there, child. You just get all those bad feelings out of that body of yours and away from that little peanut in your tummy. They’re not doing the two of you any good. You both need to remain strong.” Wanda hands me a tissue to dab my eyes as the door opens.

I look up hoping to see Eric, but it’s just another nurse.

“Wanda, Miss Thompson is good to go. Her prescription was just delivered to the desk and Dr. P. signed off on her discharge papers.” She gives me a quick smile before handing the form over to Wanda.

“Thanks, Carol. Her man isn’t out there, is he? I’m going to need his signature too,” Wanda states, indicating the line where I have to sign.

My stomach drops when I realize Eric is probably paying for this out of pocket. If my medical problems continue, we won’t need Lauren to ruin us. I’ll bankrupt him myself.

“Yeah, he’s by the elevator, pacing like a tomcat,” Carol winks, taking the paper from me.

“Tell him to come back in here if he’s cooled down, but not before. Dr. P. has Miss Thompson under strict orders not to have to deal with any drama from temperamental men.” Wanda nudges my arm, causing me to grin.

“You got it,” Carol says, giggling as she steps out.

“Do you feel better now?” Wanda asks, sliding the curtain around the bed to help me change.

“I do. Thank you, Wanda,” I say wholeheartedly as she helps me untie the straps of the hospital gown. “I really hope I don’t have to wear another one of these any time soon.”