This Is Torturous

My plane got into Phoenix late Monday and Ryder was waiting for me at baggage claim. The first thing, I was sure, he noticed was how exhausted I looked. I probably looked worse coming home than I did leaving.

“How was it?” He asked after he hugged me.

“Well, I possibly might be pregnant, so the idea of going there to get my head straightened out backfired.”

Ryder's jaw dropped, “What the hell, Sparrow?”

I rubbed my fingertips against my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut tight before taking in a shaky breath, “I don't know, Ry. I took two tests and they both said something different, so I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning.” I felt tears filling up my eyes, “I don't know what to do. What if I'm pregnant? I can't handle it. Everything is getting so incredibly fucked up. I feel so miserable, Ry. There's no way I can have a child if I can't even fathom getting married.” My breathing was getting ragged and my chest hurt.

Ryder placed his hands on my shoulders and made me him in the eye, “Sparrow, you need to calm down or you're going to have a panic attack.” I took in a large breath. Behind us, the buzzer went off, notifying passengers that the bags were going to start spilling out onto the conveyor belt. “Now, you're going to be fine. If you're pregnant, I'm sure you'll suck it up and deal. It won't be the end of the world. You love John. He loves you. It'll be fine.”

All I did was bury my face into his chest and let out a muffled sob. Ryder wrapped his arms around my shoulders and let me cry, “Just remember this isn't the worst thing that's happened to you. You've been through a lot worse.” Ryder was rubbing my back, trying to soother me. I knew he could be a dick at times, but when I was going through a crisis, he really came through.

“I see your bag. Why don't we go back to your place and watch some movies? Or do something to keep you occupied?” I nodded and stepped away from his hold, sniffing.

I wiped at my face, “Okay.”

“I'll go get your bag. You stay here and calm down.” He said then was gone, pushing his way through people to get to the front.

“Thank you.” I said once he returned with my suitcase. “I love you, Ryder.” I said then hugged him tightly.

“I love you, too. If you need me to go with you tomorrow, I will.”

I nodded and let out a shaky breath, “That would be nice.”

He smiled lightly at me, “Okay. Let's go before you cause more of a scene.” I let out a short laugh and shook my head, following him out to his Honda Civic Coupe.

I was a mess of nerves the next morning as I waited for the doctor. Ryder was sitting next to me, waiting tiredly. Since I wasn't able to sleep, Ryder tried to stay awake with me, but he gave in at about 3:30. I had drifted off around five and woke up at seven to get ready.

Five minutes after I got there, I got called back to wait in a room. Ryder followed me and sat in the corner as the technician got my vitals.

“Dr. Samson will be with you shortly.” The young girl smiled then left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“I'm going to throw up.” I said after a few silent moments.

“You'll be fine, Sparrow.” Ryder reassured me then leaned over and squeezed my hand.

Seven long, agonizing minutes went by before my physician walked through the door. I had been seeing him since I moved out and got my own insurance, so I didn't necessarily see him often.

“Sparrow, hello.” He greeted when he barged through the door.

“Hi,” I replied weakly.

“How are you? What seems to be the problem?”

I gulped, “Well, I took two pregnancy tests over the weekend and one said I was pregnant while the other said I wasn't. I just wanted to get one professionally done.”

He nodded, writing it down on my chart, “Okay, I can send you to the lab across the way to get bloodwork done.” He said, turning back to look at me, “You look tired. Have you been getting enough sleep lately?” Embarrassed, I shook my head, “How many hours a night do you get?”

“Two or three.”

He grabbed a flashlight from the counter and moved to stand in front of me. Clicking the light on, he arched my brow and shined it into my eyes, one at a time. “Dizziness?” I nodded, “Muscle pains?” I nodded again, “Loss of appetite?” Another nod, “That explains your weight – it's dangerously low. Are you experiencing stress or anxiety?”

If only he knew, “Yes.” I answered shortly.

“Okay, how much would you say?”

“Too much.”

“For how long?”

“The last three weeks I've had a few panic attacks.” He walked over to the counter and wrote down a few things in my chart, “I'm going to recommend you see a psychologist for these problems. I know a few -”

I cut him off, “I have a therapist I used to see when I was a teenager.”

He shook his head, “No, no, you should see a psychologist because they're better equipped. What you're doing is putting your health at risk by your lack of sleep and heightened anxiety.” I nodded, “All right, I'll get you the referral and paperwork for the lab and you'll be good to go.” He reached out to shake my hand, “Take care of yourself, Sparrow.”

The lab took me a lot longer than I would have liked then let me go with a promise to call with the results in two to three days. I wasn't sure if I could handle the wait.

Ryder drove us back to mine and John's apartment so I could get ready for work. It was rainy, making me think I brought the gloomy weather with me from Nashville.

Ryder took to my bed while I took to the bathroom to do my makeup. I hadn't put any on before we left for the doctor, not seeing the need.

It was so quiet in the room. Ryder was half way to dreamland and I hadn't turned on any music like I normally would. I just stood in front of my bathroom mirror, buffing pale Make Up For Ever HD foundation into my paler than normal skin. I was sure it was from lack of nutrition and the fact that I just gotten my blood drawn.

The silence of the morning would usually calm me and make me feel at peace, but it was having difficulties that morning. All I could think about was the potential bun in my oven. The thought made me nauseous. I knew I needed to inform John of what was going on since he was probably freaking out. I let him go almost four days with absolutely no contact, even though I told him I would let him know what was going on.

What if I was pregnant? Would John be okay with that? Or would he completely freak out like I was? He thought we were ready for marriage, but did he think the same about a baby? He didn't have time for a baby; he was touring so much! He would never be home and I would be stuck raising a child practically on my own, making me give up my life. Call me selfish, but I wasn't at all ready to do that.

The more I thought about it, the more nauseous I got. It wasn't long before I threw down my makeup brush and leaned over to empty what was left in my stomach, which really just ended up being a little bit of acid and a lot of dry heaving.

“What the hell, Sparrow?” Ryder was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression.

Relaxing the muscles in my shoulders and upper back, I turned to look at him over my shoulder. No doubt I looked miserable. There was sweat forming on my hairline and I knew I had to have gotten paler if that was possible.

Straightening up, I moved the few feet to the sink, “I had to get it out.” The sink was on and I was cupping my hands under the faucet to bring up to my mouth. As I rinsed my mouth out, I got my toothbrush ready.

“Do you think it was morning sickness?” Looking up at him with my big gray eyes, I shrugged, silently, “This is probably a dumb question, but are you going to be okay to work?”

I spit the water out into the sink and wiped at the corner of my mouth, “I'll be fine.” I replied before shoving my teal toothbrush into my mouth.

Ryder looked at me, watching for any sign that I was going to collapse, which I felt like I could, before sighing and turning to go back to the bed.

I left Ryder at the apartment, knowing he was probably going to spend the next two nights there until Winter flew in and we left for the Pool Trade Show in Vegas on Thursday. I wasn't looking forward to the weekend in Las Vegas, but knew I had to go with Winter to help. I would be getting the phone call from the doctor while we were there, which made me nervous. I didn't want any more people than necessary to know what was going on.

The shop was slow since it was raining and no one ever went out in the rain in Arizona. It was just me and Ronnie quietly moving around the store, fixing things that seemed out of place and humming along to the Eisley Pandora radio station we had playing overhead. I think Ronnie knew I wasn't feeling all that hot because she wasn't saying much. She kept to herself and sang quietly along to mostly ever song that cam on, especially Regina Spektor.

I was in the back room, looking over some things Winter had emailed for the Pool Trade Show, when my phone went off, telling me I had a new text message. My eyes moved from one screen to the next, seeing the text was from Halvo.

“How did your appointment go?”

I knew what he was really asking was if I was pregnant. With an almost inaudible sigh, I picked up the phone and wrote back, “I'll know in two to three days.” I didn't even bother going back to the email once I saw that he was writing back.

“How shitty. How are you feeling?”

“So-so.”

I was being short with him, but it was only because I knew he would be relaying the conversation back to John.

“Have you talked to John?”

I rolled my eyes, feeling agitated, “No. Have you?”

“Barely. I just let him know that I saw you and that you're not dead. It was through Facebook, so I didn't hear him or see him, but I know he's probably freaking out.”

“At least I'm not the only one.”

“You should let him know what's going on.” I knew he was right, but I had no desire to talk to John until he was home, as horrible as that sounded.

I left the message unresponded and went back to the email, making a list of the things I needed to do before Thursday. As I was jotting down “Garment bags”, another text from Eric came in on my phone.

“I know you're scared or whatever, but you and him can be scared together. Don't just shut him out because you think you can handle this on your own. You looked like shit when I saw you, so I know you're not handling it well. Let him help you or at least let him know what's going on so he doesn't freak out when he sees you when he gets home.”

I suddenly felt angry at Eric for butting into my personal life. I knew he did kind of have a say because he was best friends with John, and had been since forever, but it still upset me that he thought he could just throw his two cents at me. I think it angered me more that what he said was something I didn't want to hear.

“There's so much more than what you know that's going on, Eric. Don't give me your two cents when I didn't ask for it. Trust me when I say I wish I could talk to him, but I can't.”

I felt so defeated and exhausted, sitting there in the back room of LaMour's. I just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.