Page 62 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
"What if I get pepper spray? Or a taser?" This dump's security was garbage. I couldn't rely on prayer to stay alive.
"Listen, Ella!" Maya's tone sharpened. "Stay home during the day for the next few days. Don't go out unless you have to. My dialysis is stable. I don't need you worrying. Focus on your medical textbooks and prepare for the nursing exam in six months. That's what you should be doing."
The rebuttal stuck in my throat. She was right.
Passing the nursing boards wasn't just my lifelong dream. It was my only shot at financial independence.
With that license, my income would double. I could help Maya recover and support the baby in my belly.
"And from now on, we check in twice a day," Maya continued. "Eight AM, eight PM. If I don't answer, you call the cops. If you don't answer, I call them. Deal?"
"Deal." My throat tightened, eyes stinging. "Maya, thank you."
"Remember, your safety comes first in my book," her voice softened. "You're the person I love most in this world."
Tears threatened to spill. Maya had devoted almost everything to me since we were kids. If anyone in this world would love me unconditionally, it could only be her.
After hanging up, I collapsed on the couch, trying to steady my breathing. Then I felt it—a flutter in my lower abdomen.
I froze. Was that the baby moving?
I placed my hand gently on my slightly rounded belly, feeling nerves pulse beneath my palm.
This little life had once been my deepest fear. Now it was my greatest comfort. I had to take care of myself. Take care of it.
After dinner, I opened my laptop and logged into my online class, copying out boring drug dosage conversion formulas word by word.
I hadn't studied long when my stomach turned. I shoved the laptop aside and bolted to the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, retching violently. Everything I'd eaten came back up.
A minute later, I gripped the sink and stood. The woman in the mirror looked like a ghost. I barely recognized myself—the same woman who'd once worn couture at Manhattan's finest galas as Mrs. Rockefeller.
"Pull yourself together, Ella." I gave the mirror woman a pep talk. "Stop wanting things that were never yours to begin with."
When my body settled slightly, I forced myself back to the desk and kept studying nursing ethics and emergencyprocedures. I pushed through until one or two AM, body exhausted to its limit, before finally lying down. Though my body felt crushed by stones, my brain ran like an out-of-control engine, wide awake. I stared at the water stain on the ceiling. That shadow seemed to writhe in the darkness, gradually forming Lucas's face.
What was he doing now?
Thinking of him made my stomach sink.
On impulse, I pulled out my phone and checked my blocked call log.
Since he'd come to Manchester, not a single call from a Manhattan area code. Which meant after he left that last time, he hadn't contacted me again.
Was that my last chance?
I kept telling myself this fit Lucas's domineering personality, but I couldn't stop tossing and turning.
Had he moved past this failed marriage and returned to his bachelor life? Where would he be now? Some private Manhattan club? A high-end dinner? One thing was certain—he'd be surrounded by women. Beautiful ones. Connected ones. All wanting to become Mrs. Rockefeller. Even if they couldn't get the title, countless women would settle for a one-night stand. Just like the playboy life he'd always known. He'd forget me soon enough.
I rolled over, burying my wet face in the pillow.
I tried to sleep my way out of these spiraling thoughts, but deep inside, something heavy lingered. Then that familiar nausea jolted my body awake. I rushed to the bathroom for another round of spinning, heaving torture. This was worse than before. My mouth tasted of bitter bile. When the torment finally stopped, I felt it—warm, sticky liquid sliding slowly down my inner thigh.
My breathing stopped completely. Trembling, I looked down and saw a large, shocking red stain spreading across my light pajama pants.
The world went silent in my ears.
Phone.
