Page 89 of 32 Days in May

Soon, I fall back asleep.

I wake up an unknowable amount of time later to Liv pacing at the foot of my bed, walking and speed-whispering into her phone. Then, she sees me watching her and quickly hangs up.

“Finally,” she says, rushing over to my side. “I was just checking in with everyone. Nicky’s on his way.”

“What time is it?” My voice comes out hoarse and broken.

“Five-thirty in the afternoon.”

“Oh my God—”

“Don’t freak. You have to stay calm.” She thrusts a paper cup of ice water into my hands.

“Stay clam,” I say.

“What? You need to hydrate, right now. You’ve been in and out of sleep for twenty hours.”

I obey. Has water always been this good? I drain the cup, and she brings me another. “I’m sorry,” I say when she hands it to me. “I’m so sorry.” Why is this the only thing I can say?

“Enough, okay?” She pushes the tears off my cheeks, strong arms encircling my head. I wrap a feeble arm around her waist and pull her to me. Liv shifts her weight away, and I notice she’s standing strangely, a fist pressed into her hip, like she’s reinforcing her lower back. Her shirt billows slightly, and suddenly everything about her shape seems different.

Without thinking, I reach out and press my other hand against her stomach. It’s hard and domed, a strange sensation underneath my fingers, but instead of pulling away, I press into her. Her stomach presses back.

Liv gasps and jolts away from me, grabbing me by the wrist. “What’re you doing?”

“Your stomach.” I reach out for her again, but she evades my touch.

“Stop it.”

I blink. Everything is foggy, light. The room feels like it’s made of cotton. Nicky’s on the way. But where’s Marco? Why is my sister standing like that, leaning from foot to foot?

“Liv, are you pregnant?”

She turns away, back toward the sink, getting me another cup of water. “Not now, Nadia.”

“You are, aren’t you?”

Liv leans heavily into the sink before bringing her eyes—her stunning eyes even more aquamarine as they glisten with tears—back up to mine. “That’s why I kept calling you. I was nervous—scared, actually—to tell you, but it was getting harder and harder to hide. I wanted us to just stop fighting, a-and I couldn’t do this without you anymore, Nadia. I just couldn’t.”

Fuck.

For days, my sister was desperately trying to reach me for the very same reason I’d driven to Philly when I could barely stay vertical: she’d needed her sister.

“You called me,” I murmur, tears burning at the corners of my eyes now.

“Of course I did, you fucking moron. Who else would I call?”

“I am so sorry, Liv. I am so, so—”

She slams a balled fist down onto the edge of the sink, cutting me off. It’s a dramatic action, but it makes only a muffled thunk. “When people love you, they need you. They expect things of you.” Liv makes an irritated swipe at her eyes before pushing off the edge of the sink. “We needed you.”

I’m moved into a better room—a bigger room with a perfect view of the Schuylkill River Trail and the lit-up cityscape. Liv takes my phone and promises me she’ll handle texting everyone. If I have missed calls or messages from Marco, she doesn’t let on, and I’m so grateful.

Just for a little while, I don’t think I can be trusted to function as an adult. I entrust myself fully to Liv. She fluffs my pillow, brushes my hair, puts a little bit of Aquaphor on my lips. She talks on the phone nonstop. I hear her describe the way I looked and how I crumbled to the ground about fifteen different ways.

Visiting hours end, but we tell the nurse that Liv’s pregnant and she brings us two dinners and promises she won’t rat us out. Liv kicks off her shoes, unbuttons her jeans, and climbs into the bed next to me. I want to rest my hand over her stomach so badly. I want to know everything about this magic thing that’s happening between us, quietly, while she flips through TV shows.

“Should we watch Law & Order or Bones?” she asks while I shift to make more room for her.