Page 72 of True Blue

“Maybe,” I say dryly.

Teddy looks at me sadly.

Grabbing a fresh hand towel, he wets it in the sink and dabs it over my face and neck. His touch is so soft, so tender, his gaze so loving.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

And that is what keeps ruining me.

How can those two men exist in the same body?

And then, always, the cruelest question comes next.

Why am I still here?

The answer is easy, even if I wish it weren’t.

Because, despite everything, I love Teddy more than I’ve ever loved anyone.

When I’m in, I’m in. I am committed. I didn’t become a doctor because it was easy. And I’ve put so much time, effort, and emotion into this relationship that some ugly, miserable part of me doesn’t want to throw it away because of the difficulty with his mother.

Sunk cost, my mind hisses.

I love Teddy.

Is that enough?

I don’t like the answer to that either.

“Knock-knock!”

The door to the bathroom swings open, and there they are. I groan and turn back to the toilet, instantly feeling sick again.

Dawn and Lily stand in the doorway. Lily wrinkles her nose the second she sees me, sweaty and shaking on the floor, paling in comparison to her in her pretty little dress, hair, and makeup still flawlessly done.

“Mom, can you give us a minute—” Teddy starts to close the door.

But Dawn just steamrolls right past him.

She steps into the bathroom, her mouth twisting in disgust at the lingering stench of my vomit.

Yeah. Breathe it all in, Dawn.

I don't even get to enjoy the twisted look on her face when another stomach cramp hits, and I gasp. Teddy’s face screws up—his eyes flash anger, frustration, and beneath that, irritation.

The shift in his body language is visible as he clenches his jaw.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Dawn coos, holding up a bottle and shaking it loud enough to make me wince. “I brought some Tums. That should help with your tummy issues, right?”

Tummy issues, like I’m not turning myself inside out. Taking a Tums for this is like putting a bandage over a knife wound. I stare at the bottle. It looks old enough that I wonder if it expired sometime in the last decade.

“It’s fine,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m fine⁠—”

The cramp in my stomach tightens so hard I fold over with a broken sound, and Teddy is immediately there, his hand rubbing over my back.

“Jesus, baby…”

“Aw, poor thing. Teddy, why don’t you come back downstairs? Bindi is the doctor, after all,” Dawn says, all sweet. I almost laugh that even now, she’ll call me by the wrong name. “I think she knows how to take care of herself⁠—”