“Miss Carmichael,” Dr. Carrell said, “we would like to do an ultrasound. Could you please follow me?”
“It’ll be alright, honey,” Dr. Whittaker said. “Is there someone you would like me to call? Your mother? The baby’s father?”
My eyes went wide as I stood up, shuffling in socks across the room to follow Dr. Carrell. I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “Not yet.”
27
EVERETT
On the second day of her ignoring my texts, I figured something was up. The whole week, she had been missing, but she responded to my texts with short, one-word responses or excuses as to why she couldn’t take a call or video chat. At first, I didn’t think anything was wrong. She got sick. It happened, especially in food service. She was around people who went out and put their lips on things and talked really close and didn’t take any precautions when they were sick. I got that. If she was sick and needed a few days to hole up in her apartment, that was fine.
But I wished she would have let me take care of her. My job could have been done with or without me physically there. I could have traded with Carter and Deacon and taken all their desk work for the week and done it remotely. I could have gone in for an hour to file things away and give Lauren a lunch break and then come back to her. I could have babied her.
She didn’t want that apparently. At first, it seemed like she just didn’t want to expose me to whatever was going on, and I appreciated that. But ghosting me for the second time in our short relationship was not what I was looking for. I felt like we were incredible together and were growing into a real, reliable relationship. But after two straight days of me texting her in the morning and then again at night and her not responding, I was getting the impression that it was far worse than I’d thought. She wasn’t just feeling under the weather.
She was bailing.
Maybe I had been right after all. Maybe she didn’t really want to stay in Ashford, and all that stuff about selling her condo in Chicago was bullshit. Maybe she just wanted to make sure everything was still good up there, so she could come back when she was ready.
Then she started seeing me and thought I was at least good for the short time she would be here. A nice little distraction and a warm bed. No matter how romantic I was, no matter how much attention I showered her with, no matter how many orgasms she had, she was going to split when the time was right for her. And apparently, that time was now.
I sighed.
I was upset and being upset around power tools and with trees coming down was a terrible idea. I needed to get out of there and go somewhere quiet to think. But there was nowhere to go that didn’t remind me of her. The creek, the restaurants, even my own home. Everything reminded me of her. Everything brought back the clenching feeling in my chest that I had touched something beautiful and couldn’t grasp onto it long enough to hold it. It was something I had taken for granted while I had it. And now it was gone.
Taking off my gloves, I walked over to Wendy, who was second in command on site that day. She was doing an admirable job, and the rest of the crew seemed to have taken to her very well. No one made dirty comments, and no one seemed upset that a woman was in charge. Any and all of that had disappeared early on. Now she was simply Wendy, the hardass who occasionally was put in charge, so you damn well better do what she says.
“Hey, Winn,” I said, getting her attention. She looked up at me from her phone. I must have caught her on her break since I had literally never seen her fiddle with her phone while working before.
“What’s up, Everett?” she asked. “Are you alright?”
“I didn’t realize I was wearing it on my face,” I said.
She shrugged, seemingly looking for a polite way to say what was on her mind, then giving up. “Well, you look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate your candor.”
“Anytime,” Wendy said before taking a sip from her thermos.
“Anyway, I think I am going to take off early today. Are you good to take over?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just let Sampson know before you leave, so he doesn’t come looking for you.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t,” she said. “It’s Saturday.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” I said.
“Have a nice weekend, Everett,” Wendy said as I walked away. Rather than respond, I just waved my hand over my head, keeping my back to her as I wandered down to tell Sampson I was taking off.