I watched him limp after Byron toward the ER, and everything inside me went to ash.
The crowd thinned out, and Head Nurse Abbott was the first to notice something was wrong with me. She rushed me straight to the trauma room.
By the time word reached Ray and he came running, the baby was already gone.
His face was swollen like a battered lump, his eyes narrowed to slits.
But the words that came out cut like a blade.
"You killed our baby over a dream?"
Head Nurse Abbott rounded on him for me. "What are you even saying? If she hadn't been trying to break up the fight, you wouldn't have shoved her down! The baby wouldn't be gone!"
Ray went rigid all over, and what little color was left in his swollen face drained away.
The room fell into a terrible silence.
His lips worked, and he mumbled, "I was furious right then. I didn't know it was you—"
I'd grabbed his arm to stop him. He didn't know it was me.
One shout from Phyllis outside the crowd, and he'd done as he was told.
Something stung behind my nose, and I forced it down.
Not because I wasn't loved. Only for this child that had ended before it began.
Looking at my reddened eyes, his voice softened.
"Faith, I'm sorry. I was just scared it would happen to Phyllis the way it happened to you. Afterward I kept thinking back on it, and I felt that as your boyfriend I should've avenged you instead of telling you to let it go. I wanted to make up for doing nothing last time—"
So he'd known all along how frightened I'd been that day.
Known too how vile it was that the patient's family had hidden the truth on purpose.
But he hadn't done a thing. Hadn't said a word.
I couldn't help laughing.
I wasn't dead, so why pour the guilt he owed me onto Phyllis?
And under the banner of avenging me, shove our child out of existence?
He reached up to wipe my tears, and only then did I realize my face was wet through.
From outside the room came Byron's booming voice. "Phyllis, thank you for making me a father! Let's set the wedding for next month, all right?"
Phyllis answered yes, bright and clear.
Ray's hand jerked, jabbing the corner of my eye, and more tears spilled out before I could stop them.
He panicked instantly, fumbling. "Faith, don't cry! It's my fault. Once you've recovered, we'll have another baby."
I turned my face away so he couldn't touch me.
"Ray, we're breaking up."
Not a discussion. A notice.
He froze for a second, then suddenly crushed me against him, shaking from head to toe. "Faith, don't do this! Hit me, curse me, whatever you want, just don't break up with me! I really didn't know the person pulling me back was you, and I never imagined you were pregnant—"
"Faith, let's get married!"
Before all this, if he'd proposed, I'd have jumped up out of sheer joy.
But now I shoved him off hard and said coldly, "Why are you proposing to me?"
He dropped to one knee and pulled a diamond ring from his pocket, refusing to let himself glance back at the commotion in the hallway.
"Because I love you, of course!"
"You've always felt insecure because of my dream, and now you've lost the baby too. I'm a man. I should take responsibility for you."
What a fine line. Take responsibility.
Was it responsibility, or was it that Phyllis was carrying Byron's child and about to marry Byron, and he needed to marry me to put his own feelings to rest?
I took the ring he'd somehow had ready and slid it onto my ring finger.
It wouldn't go past the knuckle, no matter what.
So like this hollow love of ours, the kind that was never going to last.
He saw the ring didn't fit and pulled a second diamond ring from his pocket, explaining, "Faith, I grabbed the wrong one! This one came out the wrong size and I didn't have time to fix it. Once it's resized, it's all yours! When do you want to get married? Let's set the date as soon as we can!"
