Page 47 of Pieces (Cedar Lakes University #3)
Chapter forty-six
Daphne
26 weeks
My eyes feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. It’s the last class of my longest day, and every minute that ticks by feels like it’s dragging me further under. I could be relaxing with Hudson, but right now, my reality is very different.
I blink hard, trying to focus on the slides Professor Vance is presenting, but the words blur together for a second before coming back into focus. It’s completely surreal seeing my work up there used as an example for all students to learn from, but here we are. The CLUSports segment started after Christmas, and it’s taken off. I love making the highlight reels and mini-interviews with these incredible women. Some are moms, some aren’t, and I’m here for it all.
I stifle a huge yawn, but it escapes anyway.
It’s not that I’m uninterested. I love this class, and PR strategy is exactly where I want to be. But today? Today feels like I’ve run a marathon and then someone told me to climb a mountain for fun. Between back-to-back classes, editing social media posts for CLUSports, and the baby growing inside me, my body is done.
At twenty-six weeks, the baby apps say there’s a growth spurt, and maybe that’s why I feel like my limbs are made of cement.
“Daphne,” Professor Vance calls, snapping me out of my haze.
I look up quickly and straighten in my seat. “Yes?”
Her expression softens, and she gestures toward the whiteboard. “I just wanted to take a moment to personally acknowledge your work this semester, especially with the sports coverage. The creativity and consistency have been excellent. The innovation with PR segments especially around women is truly inspiring. You should be proud.”
A flicker of pride breaks through the exhaustion, and I nod quickly. “Thank you, Professor.” I am proud. I’ve shed light on athletes at this school that have never even been asked for a sound bite.
Women aren’t weak, and it’s about time the world sees how strong, capable, and deserving we are.
She smiles before moving on, and I bask in the moment, briefly. The compliment feels amazing, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming need to either collapse into bed or eat something. My stomach churns, reminding me that a granola bar this morning isn’t cutting it.
That’s the other side of the second trimester, me being hungry all the time. Yesterday, I ended up eating two lunches and then Hudson took me to the diner with Jay and I had extra patties in my burger. I’ve never had a two-patty burger before, and I still wanted more. I had fries and a shake, and then when we got back to my dorm, I devoured the fruit I keep there. Hudson said he loves seeing me eat and watching me grow. I truly hope he means that, because there’s no stopping me now.
The moment class ends, I take my time packing up my things as my stomach rolls. I’m pretty sure the doctor said I’d be feeling better now I’m in my second trimester, but this doesn’t feel better at all.
Taking a deep breath, I make sure to keep my steps slow as I head to the door, my bag slung over my shoulder and my head buzzing. The hallway feels oddly bright, and the sounds of students talking and bustling around me make it seem like it’s moving far away. I keep walking, but the dizziness creeps in before I make it halfway down the hall.
I instinctively reach out as my vision swims, pressing a hand to the wall to steady myself. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach as I clutch my shirt. No, please don’t let me pass out here. I really hate to make a scene.
My breathing feels too shallow, and the pounding in my head gets worse with every step.
What’s happening? I lean heavily against the wall, my knees threatening to buckle. I know I need to keep moving, but every time I take a step, the dizziness comes back, stronger. My heart pounds hard and fast as I press my back to the wall, focusing on the coolness seeping through my shirt instead of how the room is spinning.
I close my eyes for a second, trying to catch my breath.
You just need a minute. Just one minute. You’ll be fine, just keep breathing.
“Daphne?” a familiar voice calls out, and I blink back to the reality around me.
Jay is at the end of the hall, and as soon as I look up at him, he comes rushing closer, his expression shifting from casual to panicked. “What’s going on?” he says, dropping his bag and crouching in front of me. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, though even I don’t believe it. My voice comes out weaker than I’d like.
“Yeah, you look super fine.” He laughs, but it’s empty, his hands hovering like he’s not sure whether to steady me or call 911. “Have you eaten today? Drank anything? What’s going on, Daph?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just…dizzy. I needed to stop for a minute.”
“Okay, no. This isn’t just a minute thing,” he says, pulling out his phone. “You’re going to the hospital.”
“Jay, I’m fine,” I try again, but the words wobble like my legs feel. “I haven’t eaten much today. Just get me a granola bar.”
“Granola bar isn’t going to be enough, and I’m not taking any chances, so stop arguing,” he says firmly, standing and helping me to keep steady on my feet. His phone is forgotten as his grip gets firmer as he holds me, one arm around my waist to make sure I don’t collapse. “You’re pregnant, Daphne. You don’t mess around with dizzy spells.”
I don’t have the energy to argue anymore. I let him guide me out of the building, the cold air outside hitting my face like a slap. It’s grounding, but not enough to clear the fog in my head.
As he helps me into the passenger seat of his car, I glance over at him. “Hudson,” I murmur, a flicker of guilt rising in my chest. “I should call him.”
“Pretty sure he’s working Door Dash today. He doesn’t have many classes.”
“Shit,” I hiss. “I forgot.” My body sways with exhaustion.
“Woah, okay. Plan, I’m taking you to the hospital, you call Hudson, okay?”
I nod weakly and take the support he’s giving me but my eyes blur. My head feels like cotton wool as I relax into the headrest.
And then suddenly, everything goes dark.