“I want to see if there’s any internal damage and harm.”

“To the baby?”

“Yes,” she explains, patiently. “Along with the surrounding structures.” She advances the probe. “It will be difficult to see much since you’re not very far along, Tess….” Her voice trails, and although I keep my eyes closed, I can picture the smile behind her words. “Never mind. There is something to see.”

Curran’s breath hitches. “Oh, man,” he says. “There’s the heartbeat.”

With a shuddering breath, I open my eyes and turn to the screen. “There’s your baby,” the doctor says, pointing.

My eyes swell as I see the heart flicker rapidly. “Is he all right?” I ask, starting to tremble.

“Yes,” Dr. Tantillo answers. “He or she is a strong little one.”

Curran kisses my head when I start crying. “That’s our baby, Tess. Holy God, we made a kid!”

“There was bleeding,” I stammer.

The doctor nods, pointing to the screen. “It looks like there was some separation in the placenta, but it appears to be minimal and should repair itself. The area is very vascular and it also appears there was some rupturing in the lower uterine segment, but that should heal as well. Either way, I’d like to keep you overnight, and do another ultrasound in the morning.”

“He’s okay?” I ask again, too scared to believe it.

“So far, everything appears to be proceeding as it should. According to the scan, you’re about seven weeks along.” She removes the probe and covers me with a sheet after allowing me another look at our baby. She straightens my legs, then hands me a picture from the ultrasound exam. I can’t see much. But I see our little one, and for now it’s enough.

Dr. Tantillo smiles as I place the picture against my chest. “You took a bad fall, Tess. And to be honest, I’m surprised by how good things look. The ED doctor doesn’t believe you suffered any fractures or organ damage, but you need to take it easy these next few weeks.”

“Don’t worry. She will,” Curran assures her.

I wipe a few tears away. “Thank you, Dr. Tantillo.”

“You’re welcome,” she answers, standing to leave.

Curran stays with me all night, leaving only to speak to his family and show them the picture of “our boy,” even though it’s too early to know the sex.

The soreness along my back and shoulders and stiffness in my legs keep me awake. So does the confrontation with my father—his words, his actions, and his desperation to cling to his hold over me….My God, what kind of man does this?

Curran rises from the couch sometime close to dawn. “You’re not sleeping,” he says, coming to my side.

Neither is he, apparently. I inch over on the bed. “Will you lie with me?”

He slips beneath the bedcovers and curls his body against me. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I get the feeling you need to.”

I do, which is why I can’t sleep. I don’t like keeping secrets from Curran, not after all that we’ve shared, and all we’re becoming. But compared to all the things my father has done, this is by far the worst and the hardest to disclose.

I stroke his arm, the muscles dense beneath his blue shirt. He knows I fell in the back stairwell, and although he hasn’t pressed, he probably realizes I had a reason for being there.

“You’re not going to like what I have to tell you,” I say, quietly.

“Probably not. But I think you should tell me anyway. Don’t you?”

He’s right, but knowing so doesn’t soothe my unease. “I went back to my apartment to gather my clothes, and found my father waiting for me.” His muscles tense against me, but I continue, worried I’ll lose my nerve. “You were right about the ace up his sleeve. My father never paid for any of my law school expenses. He paid another student’s in exchange for U Penn giving me an extension on my costs. I’m now two hundred and forty thousand dollars in debt.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I use the bedsheet to wipe my eyes. “No. He told me he’s willing to pay a portion for every event I attend with Spencer.”

Curran jerks up. “And what did you say to that?”

I ease into a sitting position, the stress and my exhaustion hitting me all at once. “I told him that I’d rather be in debt than ever do anything for him again.”

“What happened after that?” he asks when I pause.

He’s furious. And while I know his anger isn’t directed at me, it’s still hard to tell him what my father did. “He chased me into the stairwell, demanding that I reconsider. I know I shouldn’t have been in there, but I was trying to get away from him.”

Curran’s breaths release in short bursts. “Did he…did he push you?”

I nod, slowly.

“That son of a bitch.”

I snatch his arm when he tries to leave. “Baby, wait. I don’t know if he was trying to hurt me, or if he was upset and reacted—”

“I don’t care. He has no right putting his hands on you—or harassing you—or trying to pimp you out. Christ, do you realize what could have happened—what he could have cost us?”

“I do,” I say, my welling tears keeping him in place.

Something in my expression softens his. He returns to the bed, gathering me close. “Tell me what happened. All of it. Don’t leave anything out.”

His tone, while quiet, holds so much anger I can feel it. Just as I feel his warmth as he holds me. “Everything happened so fast,” I admit. “But he saw me fall, and he saw me hurt. And he didn’t help me. I was lying there, barely moving, and all he could think about was himself.” I sigh. “I don’t ever want to see him again.”

“Then you won’t.” His voice is absolute. I don’t have to convince him of anything.

I expect Curran to push for more information, and I expect him to tell me to press charges. But he doesn’t, and stays quiet. Maybe he realizes that more than anything now, I need him to lie beside me and comfort me with his presence.

I remember him cradling me against his broad chest. But I don’t remember sleeping. Yet I know I did, feeling that same security I’ve always felt in his arms.

—

The incoming nurse wakes me to check my vital signs sometime around eight. “Everything appears to be within normal limits,” she says. “I’ll phone the doctor and let her know. If she’s comfortable with her findings, she’ll probably send you home after your ultrasound.”

I rub my tired eyes, thankful there’s no evidence of any further bleeding. “Do you know how long it will be before she arrives?”

She makes a face. “I’m afraid it might be a few hours. She was paged to assist in an emergency surgery, and has several patients to round on.”

I rub Curran’s thigh when she leaves and motion to the tray of food in front of me. “Are you hungry?”

He frowns. “Yeah, but that’s for you.”

“I don’t feel like eating.”

“Tess,” he says.

“I’m serious—I’m feeling nauseous.” I try to smile. “But that’s a good thing, don’t you think?”

“That doesn’t mean I like it,” he tells me. “When was the last time you ate? It wasn’t dinner, ’cause I was here and you barely had more than two bites.” He slips his arm around me when I don’t answer. “I need you to be all right, you hear me? That’s not going to happen unless you eat.”

I know he’s right, but that doesn’t inspire my appetite, especially when Curran lifts the lid and shows me my not-so-spectacular feast. I cringe from it, fighting not to become ill. “It’s sausage and pancakes. It’ll be good for you,” he insists.

“It’s too heavy. Why don’t you eat it? You didn’t eat dinner either.”

He covers the food again. “What will you eat?”

Truthfully, I don’t think I can stomach much. But I also know he won’t eat without me. “Maybe a bagel, or some fruit.”

He pushes my hair away from my face. “What say I go to the cafeteria and see what I can find? When I get back, we’ll eat together, all right?”

I agree, mostly because I want Curran to eat. When he leaves, I go to the bathroom to freshen up and change into the sweatpants and T-shirt Wren brought me. I press my hand against my belly as I step out, thankful my baby’s still growing inside me.