⇾ 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘? | 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

↠ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"They won't tell me," he answered. "Said that they wanted you awake first."

"Christ, that's not a good sign, is it?" Alexandria spluttered, wiping at her eyes.

"I don't think so," George responded. "And that makes me a little nervous."

"Well, they need to get in here and tell me what happened," Alexandria said. "I might lose my mind."

George sat back down in his chair, and they both fell silent. They didn't speak after that, not for a long time. To them, it felt like hours, but it really only was minutes...maybe even just seconds. They'd lost all sense of time now, and they worried that they'd never get it back whenever this nightmare was over. Maybe minutes would feel like years for the rest of their lives. Would that be torture or heaven?

They both looked over when the door opened and a man in a white coat entered the room, the nurse from earlier trailing behind him. Alexandria noticed the way that the nurse avoided eye contact with George, looking awfully sheepish as she practically hid behind the doctor. George felt a little bad now. He shouldn't have been harsh with her. She hadn't done anything to warrant him taking his frustration out on her.

Alexandria shifted in the bed, her interest peaked as she saw the man.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Harrison," the man said, putting on a friendly smile for their sake. He worried that his distress showed through, though. He knew that his two patients weren't going to take the news that he had for them very well.

"Morning," Alexandria said, sniffling to try and get her emotions back under control once and for all.

"Glad to see you awake, Alexandria. We were starting to worry a bit." The doctor tried to smile again, but Alexandria could tell that he had bad news for them by the look on his face. Her face went paler than it already was when she noticed. This wasn't going to end well, was it?

"What happened to me?" Alexandria asked, cutting to the chase because the anticipation was killing her.

"Well, you collapsed," the doctor said. Alexandria had to fight the urge to snap back with some snide remark about how she already knew that much. "You were dehydrated."

"Dehydrated?" she asked. "I was drinking all night. How could I be dehydrated?"

"Alcohol can sometimes have the opposite effect that something like water has. Sometimes, it can make you dehydrated instead of giving you the hydration that you need."

"Surely I didn't have that much," Alexandria said, scratching the back of her head in confusion. "I hadn't even made it through one glass."

"Well, did anything else happen before you fainted?" The doctor took a seat in a rolling chair next to Alexandria.

"Well, I threw up. I was feeling a little ill all day, but I was feeling better by the time we left the house. I didn't think—."

"You never think it'll happen, do you?"

Alexandria shook her head silently. "I feel like a moron." She pressed a palm against her forehead.

"Well, we have a reason for all this."

Alexandria felt like she knew what the reason was for all this. She remembered the blood she saw before throwing up. It was her period, her endometriosis. It had to be. But still, she asked, "well, what is it?"

"Look, there's no easy way for me to say this," the doctor said, looking between Alexandria and George. The two faces looked terrified of whatever news they were about to receive.