38
SKYLAR
The hospital had put in a call to the landline at home—I’d been the one to give the operator Rhett’s cell number since I didn’t have the guts to contact him myself.
I’d shed more tears than I had in my entire life while waiting for the Uber to pick me up and take me to the ER. Still tired from the weekend, cramps riddling my core, and miserable from that time of the month, I’d left my hair in a messy bun. I’d hopped in the car in old sweats and a T-shirt of Ashton’s when my ride showed up.
I hadn’t even bothered with a b*a.
My mind had flitted from one possible tragedy to the next, and I almost forgot the house key before leaving.
Until I got to the hospital, I hadn’t been able to think straight, couldn’t stop the jitters itching my legs—or how I’d freaked on the receptioni
