Waiting

by Blake Pierce

  “I didn’t say that,” he said.

  “Yes, you did,” Riley snapped. “I remember your exact words when I suggested that you felt that way. ‘Can you blame me?’ you said. ‘Don’t you feel the same way?’ That’s exactly what you said.”

  Ryan slumped in his chair, obviously stung by her words.

  “I just want what’s best for both of us,” he said.

  They both fell silent. Riley’s head hurt so much now that it made her dizzy. She stared at the food on her plate with disgust.

  Finally Ryan said in a soft, sad voice …

  “Maybe what’s best for both of us is … that we just give up on the whole thing.”

  Riley felt her eyes sting with tears. Things were much worse than she’d imagined.

  She wished they could just shut up and pretend this argument had never started.

  But it was much too late for that.

  Then Ryan said, “Do you want me to move out?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. “Do you want your ring back?”

  Ryan’s head dropped, and he let out a sound that sounded like a sob.

  Oh, God, Riley thought. We’ve both said way too much.

  But there was no turning back.

  It was coming clear to her—they’d both been holding in their resentment and anger and it was breaking out now.

  But it was all happening so fast.

  Just a little while ago, things had been so different.

  She’d felt so comfortable with John. Was it possible for her to feel so completely at ease with Ryan?

  Had she ever felt that way with him, really?

  Suddenly, that seemed like the most important question in Riley’s life.

  And she felt desperate for an answer.

  Riley took hold of Ryan’s hand. Fighting down both her physical and emotional pain, she said …

  “Ryan … are we friends?”

  Ryan looked at her with an expression of stricken bewilderment.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Are we friends?” Riley repeated.

  Ryan squeezed her hand.

  “Of course we’re friends,” he said. “We’re in love. We’re engaged to be married. We’re going to have a baby. How could we not be friends?”

  Riley tried to take comfort in his words, but she couldn’t.

  He doesn’t understand, she thought.

  He doesn’t even understand the question.

  She suddenly buckled over, seized by a fierce stab of pain in her belly.

  Ryan put his hand on her shoulder.

  He said, “Riley, is something wrong?”

  Riley sensed something different in his voice—a deep and sudden concern.

  She shook her head.

  “I’m really feeling pretty sick,” she said. “I think I’d better go to bed.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ryan said.

  “No,” Riley said as another spasm of pain shook her body. “I’m … so sorry … about all of this.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Ryan said.

  Ryan supported her as she got up from the table and staggered into the bedroom. She found her nightgown and went in the bathroom, where she took some aspirin and got out of her clothes and got ready for bed.

  Then she went back into the bedroom. Ryan was still standing there, looking at her with alarm.

  She fell into bed, and Ryan pulled the covers around her.

  For a few moments, the pain in her head and belly seemed to be getting worse and worse.

  But then the pain ebbed away, and all she felt was a terrible sadness. She felt tears running down her cheeks.

  The tears were strangely comforting.

  *

  Riley was crying as she wandered through the vast, empty hallways of the J. Edgar Hoover building, feeling lonelier than she could ever remember feeling. She saw nobody anywhere. She was all alone in this vast, unwelcoming place.

  She knew she didn’t belong here.

  But she had no idea how to find her way out.

  Her sobs resounded through the corridors.

  “Can somebody please help me?” she called out in a choked voice.

  Her words echoed around her, mingled with what sounded like mocking laughter.

  Then she heard something behind her—the sound of footsteps.

  She turned quickly around but saw nobody. She realized the footsteps must be coming from one of the adjoining hallways.

  She almost called out …

  “Is somebody there? Please come and help me!”

  But then it occurred to her that maybe someone was stalking her—someone who meant her harm.

  Yes, that seemed more likely. She had no reason to imagine that anybody might be approaching with friendly intentions.

  She scurried along as quietly as she could until she reached a corner of another hallway. She ducked around the corner and flattened herself against the wall.

  Keep quiet, she told herself.

  But for some reason, she couldn’t stop sobbing.

  And her sobs kept echoing far and wide.

  And the footsteps were still approaching.

  She broke into a run. But she soon saw that the hallways were shifting and breaking off in different directions, becoming more mazelike and labyrinthine.

  She turned a corner and froze in her tracks as she saw a shadowy figure standing right in front of her. She tried to run again but couldn’t move. Then something bright flashed in the figure’s hand …

  A knife! she realized.

  Her pursuer plunged the knife into her belly, and again she felt that sharp, terrible pain …

  Riley awoke to the sound of her own scream.

  She heard Ryan’s voice …

  “Riley! What the hell!”

  She opened her eyes. The bedroom was dark. The pain in her belly was now unbearable, and so was the pain in her head

  She thrashed around until she felt something warm and sticky.

  She held her hand to her face, but couldn’t see it in the dark.

  The lamp on Ryan’s side of the bed clicked on, blinding her for a split second.

  Then she saw that her hand was covered with blood.

  Ryan said …

  “Riley! Oh, my God!”

  Riley sat bolt upright and saw that the sheets underneath her were splotched with blood.

  Ryan turned her face toward Ryan’s. His expression was alarmed, but also somehow comforting.

  He said, “Riley, it’s going to be OK. I’ll take care of everything.”

  He helped her move over to his side of the bed, where the sheets were still dry, and he stretched her out on her back.

  Then he grabbed his cell phone from his nightstand.

  Riley lay there staring at the ceiling while Ryan called 911 to say that his girlfriend had a medical emergency.

  When he finished, he peered down at her face and gently stroked her hair.

  Riley gasped and stuttered …

  “Ryan, wh—what’s happening? Am I dying?”

  Ryan smiled a deeply reassuring smile.

  “Of course not, darling,” he said. “Just lie still and try to relax. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

  Riley shivered, feeling cold all over.

  I’m in shock, she realized.

  Then, before she knew it, she heard sirens, and the room was quickly flooded with men dressed in white who lifted her onto a gurney.

  As the men rolled and carried the gurney up the stairs and into the ambulance, Ryan never left her side.

  He kept saying over and over again …

  “It’s going to be all right, Riley. I’m here. I’ll stay right with you.”

  Riley believed him.

  How could I ever doubt him? she wondered.

  But she also wondered …

  What’s happening to me?

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Riley lay in a narrow bed with partitions on
either side. At the foot of the bed, a white curtain was drawn across the opening. Even though the ER was brightly lit, she felt as though she were in some kind of a mysterious fog.

  In fact, she really was in a fog—a mental and emotional fog. The sharp pains in her head and abdomen were gone, and her thoughts were vague and uncertain.

  She’d been sedated as soon as she’d been put into the ambulance, and she’d been aware of its powerful effects well before she was brought in here. She’d felt numb and indifferent during the physical examination a doctor had done a little while ago.

  Still, she was aware of the bustling activity all around her little secluded space. Through the gaps on either side of the curtain, she could see white-clad hospital personnel hurrying about, and gurneys carrying patients rattling back and forth. She heard voices chattering, and bells, and urgent PA announcements summoning physicians to different stations.

  She’d been alone for a little while now.

  But she felt oddly unworried about that.

  The male physician who had checked her in had told her with a sincere and comforting smile …

  “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine.”

  She’d had no reason not to believe him—at least as far as her physical health was concerned.

  She was also sure that the same was not true for many of the people in that melee outside her curtain. Out there, people were suffering from dire illnesses, injuries, and wounds that demanded the sort of immediate attention that she didn’t need.

  And yet she wondered …

  Where’s Ryan?

  Then she remembered—she’d been told that Ryan couldn’t see her just yet.

  But he’d be here soon, the physician had said.

  Nobody had told her yet what had happened to her, but she knew perfectly well without being told.

  At least she knew it intellectually.

  The emotional repercussions hadn’t yet kicked in. Riley wondered how bad they were going to be.

  Soon the curtain parted and a white-clad woman with large eyes and a friendly, birdlike face came into her area. Ryan was right there beside her.

  The woman smiled and said, “I’m Melissa Pascal, and I’m the on-duty OB/GYN. How are you feeling right now?”

  “Weird,” Riley said.

  Dr. Pascal patted her on the shoulder.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  She held Riley’s gaze for a moment and said with a sympathetic smile …

  “I’m afraid you’ve had a miscarriage.”

  Riley gulped hard.

  Of course that was exactly what she had expected.

  But despite the sedation, hearing the word spoken aloud came as a shock.

  Dr. Pascal looked over some papers on her metal clipboard.

  She said, “Your fiancé put me in touch with your physician back in Lanton, and I’ve talked with her. It seems that your pregnancy was just fine during your last checkup. I also see that you’ve been on a healthy regimen of supplements. You’ve been taking good care of yourself.”

  “So what happened?” Riley asked.

  Dr. Pascal shook her head and said in a gentle voice …

  “You have no idea how common this is. Believe it or not, about fifty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. Most of the time those happen before the woman even knows she is pregnant. Between fifteen and twenty-five percent of known pregnancies end in miscarriages, most of those just the way yours did.”

  Questions started to pour into Riley’s mind.

  Had she done anything to bring this on?

  Was this her fault somehow?

  Ryan said to the doctor, “Riley has been under a lot of stress lately.”

  Stress, Riley thought.

  Yes, that was definitely the right word.

  But she wondered—what was Ryan thinking when he said that word?

  Was he feeling guilty for how hard things had been between them lately?

  Or was he angry with her for putting herself in stressful situations?

  He doesn’t even know, she reminded herself.

  Ryan had no idea of what she’d been doing lately. He knew nothing about her wrenching anxieties about success or failure, the dead body she’d seen that wasn’t in a morgue, the distraught family members she’d encountered, and especially not her unsettling and sometimes terrifying feelings of connection with a killer.

  He’d just thought she’d taken on too much by getting into the intern program.

  And he’d found that annoying enough.

  If only he really knew, she thought.

  Dr. Pascal spoke to both Ryan and Riley. “Don’t worry about stress. Stress is a fact of life for all of us, some of us more so than others. I’m sure it didn’t cause this miscarriage.”

  “But what did?” Riley asked.

  Looking through the papers again, Pascal said, “Well, we can eliminate most of the common causes. You don’t have diabetes or thyroid problems or blood clotting disorders. According to your earlier examinations, you don’t have uterine or cervical abnormalities. You don’t smoke, and I don’t suppose you’ve been abusing drugs or alcohol.”

  “No,” Riley said.

  Pascal tucked the clipboard under her arm.

  “That leaves the most common cause of all—chromosomal abnormalities. Something was wrong with the fetus—something truly incompatible with life. Your body sensed this and ended the pregnancy. I know this is hard to accept right now, but in a way, what happened was a good thing, the right thing. And it wasn’t in any way your fault.”

  Riley wanted to feel reassured, but somehow she couldn’t.

  And she could tell by Ryan’s expression that he wasn’t reassured either.

  He stammered, “But—but Doctor, could you tell us … ?”

  Seeming to guess Ryan’s question, Dr. Pascal said to him …

  “Mr. Paige, your fiancée is a perfectly healthy young woman. There’s no reason to believe she can’t have children in the future.”

  Turning to Riley, she added …

  “Someone will come by soon to check you over again. Then you’ll be able to leave. I promise that the worst of this is over. You might have a few symptoms, possibly some slight continued bleeding. If things get really bad, contact me right away. But you really needn’t worry.”

  Ryan and Ryan thanked Dr. Pascal, who left them alone. Ryan sat next to the bed holding Riley’s hand, looking at her steadily. She found it hard to return his gaze. She wasn’t sure why.

  Soon another doctor came and gave her a quick examination, then said it was OK for her to leave. Ryan had followed the ambulance here, so he went outside to get the car.

  The effects of the sedative had faded almost entirely, but Riley still felt wobbly and weak as she got to her feet. An orderly helped her into a wheelchair and took her outside, where Riley saw that the sun was just coming up. Ryan pulled up to the curb in his car, and the orderly helped her into the passenger seat.

  Neither Riley nor Ryan spoke a word during the ride home.

  Ryan’s expression was pained and sad.

  This is hard on him too, Riley thought.

  When they got back to the apartment building, Ryan helped her out of the car and into the apartment, then put her directly to bed. Soon Ryan got into his pajamas and climbed into bed beside her.

  He held her close, with her head on his shoulder.

  His strength and warmth felt comforting. Even so, troubling thoughts tugged at Riley.

  She realized how little thought she’d given to being pregnant lately.

  Sometimes she’d almost forgotten about it altogether.

  Much of the time it hadn’t seemed quite real.

  But now that she wasn’t pregnant anymore …

  It seems more real than ever.

  And a deep sense of loss was coming over her.

  She remembered what Dr. Pascal had said …

  “I promise that the worst of this is over.”

  The doctor had also
said …

  “There’s no reason to believe she can’t have children in the future.”

  Riley wanted to believe that, and she knew that Ryan did as well.

  But she knew that she was going to feel this sense of loss for quite some time, and Ryan was going to feel it too in his own way.

  She also wondered …

  How is this going to affect things between us?

  Was it going to bring them closer together?

  Or was it going to drive them farther apart?

  She found herself thinking about all the things she’d been keeping secret from him lately.

  Was he keeping secrets from her as well?

  And was there any hope at all for their relationship?

  Riley started to cry, and Ryan pulled her closer.

  Soon she was fast asleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  Riley felt as though she’d scarcely gotten to sleep before Ryan gently disentangled his arms from around her and climbed out of bed. Sunlight was pouring into the window now. Ryan walked around to Riley’s side of the bed and crouched down and whispered …

  “Are you awake?”

  Riley nodded.

  “It’s time for me to go to work,” he said. “But I could stay home today.”

  “No,” Riley murmured tiredly. “Please don’t.”

  “But what about you?” Ryan asked.

  Riley rubbed her eyes, remembering the trauma she’d just been through.

  That’s a good question, she thought. What about me?

  Ryan squeezed her hand a little.

  He said, “Please don’t go to the Hoover Building today. You’re allowed one day of leave per month from the program. Take this one off. You need it. You deserve it.”

  Riley thought for a moment.

  The pain in her belly was gone, but her head hurt badly, and she was so limp and exhausted she could barely imagine getting out of bed.

  “That’s a good idea,” she muttered.

  Ryan smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. She lay there listening as he bustled around the apartment. Finally, when he was fully dressed and ready to go, he came back to the bed and kissed Riley again.

  “Take it easy,” he said, stroking her hair.

  “I will,” Riley said.

  Ryan left the apartment, and she heard his car pulling away.