Page 27 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)
HIS FAMILIAR VOICE IS MY LIFELINE
HAISLEY
“ H ome sweet home,” I say wistfully when we arrive back in Brooklyn.
Our last evening at the cabin after the heartwarming chat with his family was spent watching TV, reading, and swapping more stories from our lives.
Rasmus cooked us a delicious meal of steak and potatoes before I fell asleep while watching his favorite movie, Fight Club .
He carried me to the guest bedroom, again, where I woke up this morning tucked into blankets.
The more I get to know Rasmus, the more I adore him in every possible way. And that’s a problem. He’s right; I have to make up my mind about us. Or we’ll find ourselves in a situation where we do something we might regret.
But I find it hard to make a decision that has a lasting impact on how we’ll coparent.
It’s difficult to navigate these feelings while my hormones make the mood swings worse.
I’m too emotional and my decision-making leaves room for improvement.
And I’m a walking cliche with my over-the-top horniness.
Not the greatest combo with a sexy as fuck baby daddy who clearly wants me.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Rasmus asks from the driver’s seat, his brown eyes scanning my face. “I could go to the store and buy you groceries before I leave for my road trip.”
“There’s no need, but thanks for asking. I just need a nap.”
His jaw ticks like he wants to say something. “Call if you need anything. And I mean it. It sucks to leave you alone while I play states away.”
“But I’m not alone. Timmy lives five minutes away, and my other friends are less than thirty minutes from here. You have nothing to worry about.”
With that, he opens the door for me. He unclicks my seatbelt and helps me down, carrying my bag to the front door.
“I could get used to this level of service,” I joke as he turns to leave. “Thanks for this trip. I had a wonderful time.”
“I should be the one thanking you. Even if the road trip playlist was questionable, the drive felt shorter with someone else there.”
“You created that playlist, so you can only blame yourself,” I say teasingly.
That makes him smile. “Well, I better get going so I don’t miss the flight. Take care, Haisley. Both of yourself and our little Meatball.”
I rub my stomach as he gets into the car. When it’s clear he won’t leave until I’m safe inside, I roll my eyes and walk into my brownstone .
The silence I usually love since my roommates moved away feels stifling. And I absolutely hate it.
Damn my ever-changing mind.
Waking up in a dark room, tangled in the sheets, I feel totally disorientated. When I check the time on my phone, I’m shocked. Nine thirty?! I slept for seven and half hours without waking up even once.
The notifications on my screen show a few texts from Rasmus and I read through them.
Rasmus
Made it to the plane. Your dad’s joining us for the next two games.
Arrived in Boston
You okay?
Our game starts in 30 and I haven’t heard from you
We won, but I played one of my shittiest games of the season. I’m worried about you. Everything okay?
The last text came in fourteen minutes ago, so I quickly reply to assure him I’m fine.
Haisley
Oops I slept seven and a half hours. I guess our trip really wore me out.
Rasmus
Jesus fucking Christ
How will I ever survive as a parent if I panic this much when you don’t text me back in a few hours
Never mind. Don’t answer. I guess I’m a bit tired as well, and it’s making me overreact…
Haisley
I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. You must be exhausted. Good luck tomorrow.
Rasmus
Thanks. I’m heading to bed, but I’ll speak to you tomorrow.
Haisley
Good night, baby daddy
Rasmus
Good night, baby mama (look what you made me do)
Chuckling to myself, I get up and walk downstairs to the kitchen. I pull open the fridge and scan its contents with mild disappointment. A mental checklist of things I need to buy from the local shop begins forming in my head. Milk, eggs, fruit, something sweet…maybe cupcakes.
The local shop is only three blocks away, and fresh air might do me good after that monster nap.
With the decision made, I grab my orange coat from one of the hooks by the door, slipping it over my neon green sweater.
My purse rests on the floor where I left it earlier, and I sling it over my shoulder, pocketing my phone.
Double-checking that I have my keys and wallet, I pull open the door.
The wind immediately hits my face, and I brace myself against the cold as I step outside. Then, my foot catches on a patch of black ice .
The world tilts around me, and I don’t have time to react before I hit the ground.
The pain explodes through my entire body.
My elbow smacks against the frozen concrete and my purse slips from my shoulder, its contents spreading on the sidewalk.
A sharp, twisting agony shoots up my ankle.
The scream that rips from my throat gets swallowed by the wind.
My breaths come in sharp, choked gasps as panic sinks its claws into me.
The baby.
I suck in a ragged breath as I cradle my stomach. There’s no sharp pain there, and I don’t think I hit it when I fell. But that doesn’t stop the fear creeping in. My heart pounds wildly as I look down, seeing no external signs of injury.
A male voice, laced with concern, calls out, “Miss, are you okay?”
I blink up, tears clouding my vision, and see an older gentleman approaching, his cane tapping against the pavement with each careful step. A small dog tugs gently at its leash beside him.
“I saw you fall and came over as soon as I could.”
“I—” I try to speak, but my voice cracks on a sob. My ankle throbs, my elbow stings, and worst of all, fear for my unborn child almost paralyzes me. “I’m pregnant,” I finally manage. “Just past the first trimester. I need medical help.”
The words taste foreign and terrifying on my tongue. Saying them out loud makes the situation feel even more real, and my hands tighten protectively over my stomach.
The commotion outside must have alarmed two of my neighbors who come out to see what’s happening. One of them, Mrs. Ellison, who has lived next door since I was a kid, gasps when she sees me on the ground.
“Oh dear,” she murmurs, hurrying over. “Are you okay, Haisley?”
I shake my head, fresh tears falling down my cold cheeks.
“This young lady told me that she’s pregnant,” the dog walker says in a hushed whisper. “What should we do?”
“We better call for help,” she turns to her husband, who has stepped outside in his slippers. “Honey, get an ambulance on the line! Tell them that a pregnant woman in her early thirties has fallen and needs a medical check.”
I barely register what happens around me, my only thought is to call Rasmus. I need to hear his deep, calming voice. I need to hear him tell me our baby will be fine.
My hand shakes as I fumble for my phone in my pocket. The corner of the screen is cracked, but I don’t care. I tap his name with trembling fingers.
The call connects on the second ring. “Haisley?” His familiar voice is my lifeline.
A broken sob escapes me. “I fell.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line and his voice drops lower, rough with urgency. “Where? What happened?”
“My steps,” I choke out, sucking in a sharp breath. “Ras, I—I’m hurt. I don’t know what to?—”
“Fuck this,” he mutters, and in the background, there’s an unmistakable sound of something crashing. “Listen, Haisley. I’ll be there as soon as possible. Okay?”
“I—I don’t know if our baby is okay. I’m so sorry, I?— ”
“Is someone helping you?” he asks, his voice now softer. “I need you to take deep breaths.”
I nod. “Someone’s called the ambulance.”
“Good. Now take a deep breath in and out.” I fill my lungs, exhaling slowly. “And again.”
His steady instructions soothe me, if only a little, before he mutters. “Fuck. I better find your dad. I can’t be here if you’re hurting.”
My stomach clenches with a new type of fear. “He doesn’t know.”
He swears under his breath. “I gotta go, sweetness. Just hold on. I’m coming. It’ll be okay.”
The line goes dead. I clutch the phone to my chest, my pulse beating frantically. The pain in my ankle is unbearable, but I cling to the only thing keeping me steady.
Rasmus is on his way.