What's Wrong With Me?

Part 7 - I'm Sorry

Tim and Lucy reached home in a matter of minutes. The car ride was peaceful Neither of them really talked, which was weird. But Tim just took it that Lucy wasn't in the mood to have a conversation.

T: come on baby, I'm taking you to the doctor, he told her, putting the truck into park. But no one answered him.

T: baby?, he called, looking to the passenger seat to see Lucy sleeping.

T: that's why she wasn't talking, he mumbled to himself, chuckling.

Tim looked at her for a second. Her face was still a bit pale, her lipstick wiped off and her hair slightly messy. But in his eyes she was the most beautiful person in the world. His perfect, sick, beloved wife.

Tim got out of the truck and went over to Lucy's side. He opened the door and unbuckled her seatbelt, making sure to be extra quiet. Tim carefully lifted Lucy up into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his neck like it was a second nature. Lucy started mumbling something incoherent.

T: shh, it's okay baby. Go back to sleep, he said softly, gently swaying back and forth. Lucy nuzzled her head further into Tim's neck and went silent again.

Tim closed the truck door and made his way to the front door. He swung open the door and headed to the living room.

He placed Lucy on the longest couch, so she could stretch out her legs, and covered her up with a fluffy blanket.

Tim went back to close the front door and returned to the living room.

L: babe?, she called quietly, rubbing her eyes.

T: yeah baby. Do you feel okay? Do you need a bucket? Do you feel too hot?, he asked, touching her forehead and neck with the back of his hand to see if she had a fever.

L: I'm okay, I promise. I just feel sick, she said, her eye lids visibly heavy.

T: it's okay baby, just close your eyes I'm right here, he said, stroking her hair. Lucy fell back asleep almost immediately, her muscles relaxing and her hands slightly clutching the blanket that Tim covered her with.

Tim stayed with her for a minute before getting himself ready to go with Lucy to the hospital. He changed into some casual clothes- a dark blue pair of jeans and a tight grey shirt.

Then he grabbed all of Lucy's things, or the things he thought she would need. Her water bottle with ice cold water, some medical forms, a brown paper bag for if she needs to throw up again, a scarf for if she feels cold, and her purse to put all the things in.

Tim looked around the house for her purse. It was still on the kitchen counter from when Lucy came home from last night.

Tim was stuffing the scarf into her purse when he felt something hard, something plastic, something unusual.

So out of curiosity he pulled it out to see what it was.

A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

Tim held the test in his hands, it was as if time had stopped. His eyes re-read that single word on the screen about a million times, 'pregnant'. His mind was blank, he didn't know what to do. His feet were rooted to the spot, his hands firmly clutching the rest in his now sweaty hands.

Then all the puzzle pieces started falling into place.

Lucy suddenly throwing up during the morning. Her sudden dislike for the foods and drinks she used to love. Her awkward behaviour with him that day.

T: hot damn, he said under his breath.

He dropped the purse and the scarf, walking straight to the living room.