Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(3)
Author: A.L. Jackson

By the time he reached her apartment complex, he was panting, both from exertion from the mile he had run and the constriction fear had placed on his heart. He pounded on the door, giving her no time to answer before he yel ed, “Elizabeth!” There was no sound from the other side, no rustling of curtains or faint shuffling of feet. Even then, he wasn’t satisfied. Fumbling with his keys, he found his spare and pushed it into the lock.

The door opened to the quietness; the smal studio comfortably cluttered as always. The only thing that seemed amiss was the blankets from her normal y neat bed were strewn on the floor. Christian crossed the space to the only separate room. The door to the bathroom rested ajar, that room as empty as the first.

Christian pressed his back against the wal and took a deep breath. He wasn’t prepared for this. He’d never thought it would go this far.

Reluctantly, he forced himself out of the apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him before he left, hating the voice inside his head that kept tel ing him this was for the best.

Reeling from the betrayal, Elizabeth ran down the three flights of stairs and away from the man she had thought would always stand by her side. She felt as if she’d been mortal y wounded by his words. Christian knew that wasn’t an option for her. How could he even have suggested it?

In the harshness of his words, she’d searched the depths of his blue eyes for the man she thought she knew but must have never real y known. The man she thought she knew would never have been so cruel. She knew as she told him goodbye that her voice had shaken with heartbreak, but her choice was unwavering. There was nothing more important than the child growing inside her.

When he’d call ed out to her just before she’d left, she’d prayed he had changed his mind. Above all , she loved him and didn’t want to live without him, but second to that, she was scared. She didn’t want to raise a child by herself, but she realized she would have to do just that when she heard no softness in his voice, but more words to inflict pain.

Tears fel endlessly as she walked the half mile from Christian’s apartment to her own. Her stomach was in knots and protesting each step she took.

She refused to look behind her as she pressed forward, her feet heavy with heartbreak, the weight causing her to stumble.

Halfway home the pain in her stomach intensified, and she vomited into some shrubs planted under the window of a storefront. This only caused her to cry harder and the cramps to worsen, which resulted in three more episodes before she made it to the single flight of stairs leading to her apartment door. She clung to the railing, holding herself up as she vomited once more over the side.

By then she was weeping, unable to control the shaking that had taken over her body. She made it to the landing of her apartment, and with trembling hands, let herself into the only place she came close to being able to afford.

She felt cold, her body convulsing as she pulled her clothes from her body and stepped into a shower that should have been hot enough to scald. Even then, she found no warmth, and she curled in upon herself on the tiled shower floor, hoping for comfort. She only quivered and shook more. She felt as if she was frozen from the inside out, and nothing could thaw the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She wrapped herself in a towel and sank to her bathroom floor, heaving again into the toilet.

Elizabeth was scared.

She’d never felt so terrible before. She ached. The worst part was she couldn’t discern the source of the pain—whether it was from something truly wrong with her or from the trauma of having her life shattered around her.

Most of all she worried about her baby. She didn’t know many things about pregnancy, but nothing about this felt normal to her. So when her stomach recoiled again and nothing came up, she was sure she needed help.

She pulled herself up to stand, steadied herself with a hand against the wal when she swayed with dizziness, and prayed she could make it to her phone.

She wanted Christian so badly, and her first instinct was to dial his number, but she forced herself to dial seven different digits than the ones she so desperately wanted.

Christian was no longer hers, no longer one she could rely on, and there was only one other person in this city that she trusted.

His voice was scratchy and hoarse with sleep when he answered, “Hel o?” More time had passed than Elizabeth had realized. It was nearing midnight.

“Matthew . . .” she rasped, his name barely audible. The desperation in her voice pulled him from his haze, and he shot straight up in bed.

“Elizabeth?” Matthew became frantic. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

At least three seconds passed before she wheezed out a shaky, “No.”

Matthew pulled on pants, and stuffed his arms into the first button up he could find while keeping the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He tried unsuccessful y to sound calm. “Elizabeth, sweetheart, tel me what’s wrong.” He was already out the door and starting his car before she could answer that she was sick.

Matthew was at her apartment and up the short flight of stairs before five minutes had passed, where he found his friend curled up on her bed, shivering under a pile of blankets.

“Elizabeth?” He rushed to her side, pul ing the covers back to expose just her head, her blond hair darkened to a near brown from the profuse sweat pouring down her forehead.

He reached out to push her hair away so he could see her face, shocked by the paleness of her skin and the swol en redness of her eyes.

Matthew wanted to ask her a mil ion questions, but she was passing in and out of consciousness, and it was clear she needed more help than he could give. He pushed her covers to the floor except for the one he’d wrapped her in before bringing her into his arms. Her smal body was heavier than he anticipated, completely limp, and he struggled to maneuver her down the stairway and to his car.

He contemplated dialing 911, but the hospital was so close, he was certain he would get her to the emergency room before an ambulance could arrive.

Within minutes, Matthew was pul ing around the circular drive under the bright red glow of the sign that read,

“Emergency Room.”

He entered through the automatic doors, yel ing for help. With a flurry of activity, several orderlies pulled Elizabeth from his arms and placed her on a gurney.

The nurse led Matthew to a smal curtained area where Elizabeth lay unconscious. He felt overwhelmed as the nurse hammered him with questions he could not answer.

“Date of birth?”

“Is she on any medications?”