56. Patience

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It's seven a.m. Instead of being snuggled up to Kitten in our bed, enjoying the last half an hour of sleep, I'm holding her as she throws up. She has been vomiting for the last hour, and the helplessness I feel suffocates me.

I hate seeing her suffer. I hate that she's so pale and weak. I hate that five more days passed without any improvements. The baby is tiny; the damn blood clot is not. 

Leah wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. A sob tears through her, and I turn her around and press her to me, stroking a hand down her back as she cries.

"Hush, baby," I whisper, kissing her wet cheeks. "It has to get better, Princess. What do you want me to do? Do you want me to stay at home?"

"Don't. Please. You missed tons of lectures already." Leah sniffles. "I'd hate it if you fell behind because of me."

"You're my priority," I say, lifting her chin with my thumb. "Got it? I'd do anything if that made you feel better, college be damned."

Kitten wraps her arms around my neck and releases a shaky breath. She's gone five minutes without puking. Maybe she's gonna be able to eat or drink something this time. 

"I need to shower," Leah says. "I didn't yesterday, and I stink."

"You never stink." I smile. "I'll help you."

"You're gonna be late if you do."

I caress the side of her face. "Maybe five minutes late. Bast will make something up. Let's shower together. I'll hold you and put you to bed, and then Mom will be here if you need anything."

I asked my family not to come over yet after seeing how stressed out Grace's visit made Leah, but I had to call Mom yesterday after yet another hour Kitten and I spent on the bathroom floor. Mom took a day off at work to help us out. As much as I dislike the idea of involving other people who are equally busy, I'm scared to leave Leah alone, and although I told her I was doing okay, it's a lie.

My focus is shit, and it shows. It wasn't only one bad quiz — it was a string of lousy grades and the notes I didn't understand once I read them after class. Bast has my back there, but I need to concentrate if I want to do well in the exams.

I undress and take Leah's clothes off. We get under the warm spray, and I press her to me. My caresses and the water relax her. I pour shampoo onto my palm and extend it over Leah's hair. I'm gentle while I bathe her. She insists she can manage, but she can barely stand. What if she has low blood pressure? Harper didn't say anything to me, but she needs to know nausea got worse.

"I love you," Leah mumbles when I tuck her in after blow-drying her hair. 

"I love you, baby. Get some sleep, okay? Mom will be here at around eleven."

Leah nods, her eyes already closed, and I rush out of the apartment.

When I park on campus, half of the lecture had passed. Thanks to the story Bast made up, the professor doesn't give me the stink eye.

Bast looks at me with pity. When the lecture is over, he starts asking me something, but I shake my head. "See you at the cafe, okay? I need to talk to Leah's doctor."

"Sure." Sebastian squeezes my shoulder. "I'll order for you. Guess you didn't eat anything today."

"Thanks." I half-smile. "I appreciate it."

I dash out of the lecture hall and go to look for Harper, who has classes today. I'm lucky to spot her exiting a room at the end of the hallway.

"Good morning," I say. "Can we talk?"

"Hi, Brian. Sure. Let's find somewhere private."

Harper scans the row of wooden doors. One is ajar, and nobody's there. 

"Come on." She nudges me forward. I enter the small classroom and face her.

"It's about Leah. She isn't feeling well, and I don't know what to do."

A frown flits across Harper's face. "Was there more blood?"

"No; it's her sickness. She throws up all the time, and she's fucking weak cause she can't eat. We've tried internet remedies, but nothing works."

"Severe sickness is a thing," Harper says. "We can't let her become dehydrated. I'd say bring her to my office tomorrow. We'll see if she needs hospital treatment or some meds she can take at home."

I exhale. "Thanks. Anything to watch out for?"

"She has to pee enough. And make sure the color isn't dark."

"Will do."

Harper rubs my arm. "Don't worry. We'll find a solution. I know it's hard, but try to be positive. Leah needs that. She has to be calm, especially given the situation."

"Why isn't the clot going away?" I ask. "Damn, it's been—"

"Brian. We need to wait and be patient. I wish I had the answers, but each body is different. Let's give it some time."

"Yeah, you're right. I just…"

I bite my bottom lip and look at the ceiling.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Harper says, smiling at me. "Tell your girl what I told you, and give her lots of love and support."

I nod. We exit the room, and she rushes to her lecture. I barely take a few steps when Chad's voice makes me halt.

"Scoring points with Doctor Lincoln, Brian?"

I clench my jaw but don't turn to look at the fucker. He doesn't deserve my attention.

"Nothing to say? I guess I won't be surprised if she ends up teaching us, and your grade's excellent."

"If that makes you sleep better," I say under my breath and head to the cafeteria. It's our free hour before Physiology, and I need coffee. I've been anything but focused in Dr. Creighton's lectures, and something tells me he noticed. It's only a matter of time until he calls me out.

The cafe is crowded. I glance around, and my gaze lands on Bast, who waves at me.

I walk over to his table.

"Your coffee," he says, handing me a cup. "I also got you a sandwich."

"Thanks, man," I say, slumping into a chair across from him. I unwrap my food and take a bite, chewing slowly. 

"I don't wanna be nosy," Sebastian says. "But how are Leah and the baby?"

My eyes travel across the room, and rage fills me when I spot Chad. The fucker takes a table close to ours and looks my way. 

"Not too good," I say, lowering my voice. "She's puking all the time. The doctor will probably have to treat her nausea."

"It'll get better, man," Bast says. "Mom used to tell me stories about her sickness when she was pregnant with me. She did that when I got on her nerves, just to be clear. She also said she chewed ginger or some shit. Maybe it'll help Leah."

"How's your baby mama?"

Drew's voice booms, attracting the attention of several students in the vicinity. It's not the guy's fault that he's loud, but he chose the worst place to ask me stuff.

"Fuck." Bast groans. "Not everyone needs to know. What the fuck, dude?"

"Shit." Drew gives me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay. Leah isn't, though. We'll see what the doc says about her sickness tomorrow."

Drew apologizes again. We eat and chat until it's time to go to Physiology. 

I drag my feet there. My internal battery is so fucking low I might pass out during the lecture.

Bast sighs when he sees me struggling to keep my eyes open. He's a good friend, and he worries. So does Drew. So does everyone who cares about us, but that doesn't seem to change shit.
If only being patient were easy.

Dr. Creighton starts the lecture, but I'm mentally somewhere else, immersed in a thousand fears and doubts.

A tug at my sleeve snaps me out of it. Bast edges his notes closer to me. The professor must've asked me a question, and I have no idea what it was about. I have no clue what the topic of the lecture is. The worst thing is, I can't pretend I care.

I keep quiet. A chuckle carries through the air of the lecture hall. 

"Look at that," Chad says. "Knocking up your girlfriend seems to have worsened your performance, genius."

Several classmates gasp, and something shatters inside me — probably my self-control and the fucking patience everyone asks me to have.

I jump to my feet. Adrenaline fills my veins as I go for Chad the fucker. Luckily, he's only a few seats away, and nobody stops me.

He opens his mouth, but I grip his collar and pull him toward me. 

His pens and textbooks fall to the floor as I lift him off his seat.

"Repeat what you said, fucker," I grit through my teeth.

I don't know if he answered because my fist flies into his nose. Blood whooshes in my ears as I punch him several times. 

He hits me, too, but I'm too enraged to feel the pain. He disrespected my girl and the life we created, and it's the last straw.

"Enough." Bast wraps an arm around me, pulling me away from Chad. My ears register Dr. Creighton yelling, but I feel detached from reality.

The professor dismisses the class. Chad whines, and one of his buddies leads him out of the hall, surely to look for the nurse.

I'm fucked. I hit him first, and Dr. Creighton is no fool. He saw who started the fight.

"Mr. O'Brien," he says. "Stay. The rest, leave, please."

I stare at my raw knuckles as everyone files out of the room. What is he gonna do? What's my punishment? 

The professor approaches me.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have—"

"You should've hit him harder, Brian. Just don't tell anyone I suggested that."

I gulp and nod. 

"I guess things aren't okay," Dr.Creighton says. "You've seemed off for quite some time."

"My girl might miscarry," I say. "I'm just worried."

The professor sighs. "That's scary. But might doesn't mean she will. And don't feel guilty for losing patience. I would've hit anyone who disrespected the mother of my kids."

"Thank you," I say.

"Clean up before you go home." Dr. Creighton smiles, pointing to my face. "And get some good sleep. Physiology and college won't go anywhere. We're all adults, Mr. O'Brien. Don't be afraid to ask for help."

He struts back to the podium, and I take his advice and go home. If I'm lucky, Kitten is napping, and I'll have time to wash the blood off.

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