Twisted Vows

CHAPTER 7

Leah

When I finally surfaced, I was on my back, staring up at harsh fluorescent lights. They buzzed faintly, too bright, too close. Voices reached me in fragments — urgent, overlapping, impossible to place.

“She’s conscious.”

“Leah, can you hear me?”

I tried to answer, but my throat felt scraped raw, my tongue thick and useless. A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes, spreading outward until my whole head throbbed. My limbs were heavy, unresponsive, like they didn’t belong to me.

Shapes came into focus. Two paramedics knelt beside me, one checking my pulse, the other shining a small light into my eyes.

Humiliation washed over me in a hot wave. I could picture it too easily — my classmates watching, whispering, stepping back to make space around me. Panic flared, sharp and sudden, but all I managed was a shallow breath.

“Dehydration,” someone murmured. “Low blood pressure.”

A hand squeezed my shoulder, steady and reassuring. “You’re okay, Leah. We’ve got you.”

Time fractured after that.

I was lifted onto a stretcher. Cool air brushed my face as we moved through the hallway, past curious stares and hushed voices. My professor hovered briefly, saying something about contacting someone, but the words slipped past me.

All I wanted was Olivia.

Someone familiar. Someone safe.

The ambulance doors closed, the siren wailed, and my eyes fluttered shut again. I drifted in and out, my heart racing with a formless anxiety I couldn’t name.

What now?

I woke slowly, awareness returning in uneven pieces. The steady hum of machines. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic. The ache that seemed to live in every muscle.

I shifted slightly and immediately regretted it.

“Leah?”

I turned my head toward the sound. Olivia sat beside the bed, her hair pulled into a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes. Relief flooded me at the sight of her, followed quickly by guilt.

“Hey,” I croaked. “Where am I?”

“The hospital,” she said softly. “You passed out in class.”

Memory clicked into place — the lecture hall, the dizziness, the floor rushing up to meet me. Heat crept up my neck.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered automatically.

Olivia squeezed my hand. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

She hesitated, then added gently, “The doctor wants to talk to you. He ran some tests.”

Something in her tone made my stomach twist.

Before I could ask anything, the curtain rustled and a man in a white coat stepped in. He looked calm, professional, the kind of person who delivered difficult news often.

“Ms. Lockhart,” he said, glancing at the chart. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I said. “And confused.”

He nodded. “That makes sense. You fainted due to a combination of stress, dehydration, and not eating enough.” He paused, then looked at Olivia. “Is it all right if she stays?”

I nodded quickly. I didn’t want to be alone for this.

The doctor took a measured breath. “Your blood work indicates that you’re pregnant. Approximately six to seven weeks.”

The room tilted. Not the dramatic kind, just enough to make me question whether my feet would still be there if I tried to stand

Pregnant.

The word echoed, hollow and unreal. My chest tightened, breath catching painfully as the meaning struggled to settle. This was the thing I hadn’t let myself think about. The possibility I’d pushed aside. I’d been very good at not thinking about things until they forced me to.

Olivia’s grip tightened around my hand. “She’ll take care of herself,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor beneath it.

I stared at the doctor. “. “Are… are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said gently. “The test was conclusive. It’s very important that you start eating and hydrating properly. Your body is under a lot of strain.”

I nodded numbly, my thoughts scattering in all directions at once. Jacob’s face flashed in my mind — his anger, his certainty, the way he’d looked at me like I was something deliberate and wrong.

How could I tell him?

How could I survive this at all?

“We’ll keep you overnight for observation,” the doctor continued. “A nurse will come by with some information. We’ll also schedule an ultrasound soon.”

“Okay,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to.

When he left, the silence felt heavy.

Olivia didn’t say anything right away.

She just sat there, still holding my hand, her thumb moving slowly over my knuckles like she was grounding both of us. I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts looping uselessly, my chest tight.

“I’m scared,” I whispered finally.

“I know,” she said immediately. No hesitation. “Of course you are.”

I swallowed. “I don’t have money. Or my parents. Or a place that’s actually mine.” My voice wobbled. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to do this.”

Olivia exhaled slowly, then leaned back in her chair and tilted her head, studying me the way she did when she was about to problem solve.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s break this down.”

I blinked. “Break what down?”

“Everything.” She smiled, small but confident. “You’re pregnant. That’s scary, yes.” She said it like a fact, not a verdict. “But you’re also smart, capable, and not alone. Which means this is not the end of your life. It’s just… a very unexpected plot twist.”

Despite myself, a weak sound escaped me. Almost a laugh.

“I’m serious,” she continued. “You’re going to go to your classes. You’re going to eat actual meals. You’re going to listen to doctors. And I’m going to help you figure out the rest.”

“You don’t have to,” I said automatically. “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

Olivia snorted. “First of all, rude. Second, my life is not that fragile. And third—” She leaned closer. “I am going to be an excellent aunt.”

I turned my head toward her, startled. “You are?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Her eyes lit up. “I’m talking top tier. Snacks. Babysitting. Unsolicited advice. I will be a menace.”

A small smile tugged at my mouth, even as tears stung my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Correct,” she said cheerfully. “And you need someone ridiculous right now.”

I squeezed her hand. “What if I mess this up?” What I didn’t say was that messing up felt inevitable, that love, in my experience, always came with conditions.

She softened then, her voice dropping. “You won’t. And even if you do, that won’t make you unlovable. Or disposable. Or wrong.”

Something in my chest cracked at the words.

“You’re going to be okay, Leah,” she said firmly. She didn’t say everything would be fine. She said I would be. “Not because this is easy. But because you’re stronger than you think — and because I’m not going anywhere.”

I closed my eyes, my grip tightening around her fingers.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Anytime,” Olivia said. “Now rest. You’ve got a lot of life ahead of you.”

Tears burned behind my eyes. I turned my head toward the IV line feeding fluid into my arm, watching the slow, steady drip.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “Jacob already hates me.”

Olivia’s expression hardened. “Then that’s on him. Right now, you focus on you. And the baby.”

I closed my eyes, letting the steady beep of the monitor anchor me. Fear churned low and relentless, but beneath it was something else — small, stubborn, unwilling to disappear.

For the first time since everything had fallen apart, I let myself believe one thing.

I wasn’t completely alone.

By the time I was discharged, the world felt subtly but irrevocably altered. Nothing had exploded. No doors had slammed. But I knew, with a quiet certainty that settled deep in my bones, that I could not keep this to myself for long. Jacob would have to know.

And whatever happened next would change everything, whether I was ready or not.