Come Away with Me (With Me in Seattle 1)

“Can I snuggle next to him?” I look at the doctor, pleading with my eyes.

“His left wrist is sprained, and a couple ribs also on the left side are bruised. Stick to his right side, and you’ll be fine, but be gentle.”

“Thank you.”

I gingerly wriggle up next to his right side and kiss his stubbly cheek. I rest my head on his shoulder and run my fingers through his hair and down his face.

Oh, I love him so.

“I love you so much,” I whisper to him. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted.

I’m so sorry.”

I continue to croon to him, laying my head on his shoulder and resting my hand over his heart. I stay very still so as not to move him and jostle him.

I wake to Luke’s lips on my forehead.

I lift my head and find his beautiful blue eyes gazing down at me.

“Oh, God, Luke.” The tears start again, but they’re tears of relief. He’s awake!

“Hush, baby, I’m okay.” I adjust myself so he can wrap his right arm around my shoulders and I run my fingers through his hair.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” He kisses my forehead again.

“I’m sorry too.” He brushes his fingers through my hair and I kiss his jaw.

“How do you feel?”

“Sore. Relieved that you’re here.”

“Sam found me this morning.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, your parents called her and she found me at your place.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “My place?”

“I went there this morning to apologize, but you weren’t home, so I was waiting for you there. Jules told her I was there.” As I remember those horrible moments of not knowing if he was dead or alive, I shudder.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“No, I’m worried about you. Why were you out so late?”

“I couldn’t go home. You weren’t there, you wouldn’t let me stay with you, so I just decided to drive.”

I close my eyes and shake my head, ashamed of how I spoke to him last night.

“Yesterday was rough,” I whisper.

“Yes, it was. Will you tell me about it?”

I sit up and he frowns. “First, let me get the doctor so he can examine you, and once we get you taken care of, if you still want to talk, we will.”

“Don’t leave me.” He holds onto me tightly, clenching his eyes shut.

“Never again,” I tell him and his eyes open quickly, finding mine. “Never,” I repeat.

I reach over and push the red nurse call button.

“How

can

I

help

you?”

A

disembodied voice asks.

“Luke is awake,” I respond, still stroking Luke’s hair.

“Someone will be right in.”

“Hello, Mr. Williams.” The doctor smiles at Luke and, seeing me curled up at his side, winks at me. “I have good news for you. We’re going to kick you out of here tomorrow. You’re banged up pretty good, but nothing is broken, and according to the CT scan, you don’t have any internal injuries. You are a very lucky man.”

“Thank you. Can I eat?”

“Are you hungry?” I ask him.

“Starving.”

“Sure, you can eat. Start with something light. No steaks today.” I get up off the bed so the doctor can examine Luke. Taking advantage of the time I call Jules and ask her to bring Luke a light sandwich and cup of soup from our favorite deli and then I call Luke’s mom, using the number she gave me earlier, to let them know that Luke is awake and being released tomorrow.

They promise to visit later this evening.

The doctor finishes up as I hang up the phone.

“Jules is bringing you some dinner.” I take his right hand in mine and bring it up to my cheek.

“You should go home and eat, get some rest.”

“I’m not leaving until you do.”

I expect a bit of an argument, but he smiles shyly and caresses my cheek.

“Okay. Will you tell me about yesterday?”

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

“I want to know what happened.”

“Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow, after we’re home.”

“Talk to me, baby.” His face is somber and a little sad, and I close my eyes. Should I tell him about the baby while he’s here in the hospital, or should I wait?

I open my eyes and he’s still patiently watching me, and I know that he deserves to know the truth.

I take a deep breath. “I wasn’t feeling well yesterday morning before you left, but I thought it was just nerves because you were flying, and I was scared.”

I grip his hand in mine and he squeezes gently. “I wish you’d told me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. When I got back to my place, I got violently sick. I spent a good hour throwing up, even when there wasn’t anything left to throw up.” I squish up my nose in disgust. “Sexy, huh?”

“Keep talking,” he responds.

“Jules made me go to the E.R. when the vomiting showed no signs of stopping.”

“Why didn’t one of you call me?”

“You were in meetings all day, and there was nothing you could do from L.A.”

“I could have caught the next flight out.”

“I just wanted to see what the doctor said. I thought for sure I had the flu and they would tell me to drink juice and sleep it off.” I shrug.

“What did they tell you?”

I bite my lip and shut my eyes for just a moment. “Well, I’m healthy.”

“But?”

Here goes nothing.

“I’m six weeks pregnant,” I whisper.

I’m looking down at our hands. The room is silent.

Finally, after what feels like hours, he whispers, “Look at me.”

I shake my head no.

“Look at me, baby.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Look at my face, Natalie.”

I slowly look up at him, and he is gazing at me with love and wonder and a little confusion. But he’s not mad.

“You’re not angry?” I ask.

“Why would I be angry?”

“Because it’s too soon.” I shake my head and close my eyes. “It’s just too soon.”

“I’m not angry. But Nat, didn’t you say that you were on birth control?”

“I was. I’m OCD when it comes to taking my pill, but the doctor said that just like all birth control methods it can fail, and clearly, it did.”