Page 102 of For One Night

“I never said I knew everything or that I even know what I’m talking about, but damn, Lola, what does Lennox need to do?”

I scramble from the couch. “I need copious amounts of alcohol and sex … shit! I mean, sleep.”

“No, you meant sex.” Millie snickers.

“It’s your fault! You’re getting in my head, the same way that man is rooting his way into my heart.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “What am I doing?”

“Falling in love and running scared.”

I swipe at my cheek, drying it. “What if he’s like Carter?”

“I’m pretty sure, you already know that answer, Lola.” She walks over to me, taking my hand in hers. “Exactly how you knew Carter was before you married him, hoping he would change.”

“I need to talk to Carter. It’s time we break up for our divorce.” I sniffle snort.

Millie’s nose wrinkles. “That’s a start.”

“There’s more to do?”

She squats, humping the air. “Lennox.” She mouths pointing down.

“Hold my hand, Baby Jesus.” I cover my eyes, laughing until the tears are happy.

The week flies by with Lennox working closely with me on the spreadsheet and the discrepancies I’ve found. I can’t stop thinking about him all the way home, knowing if I called him, he’d come over.

I want that so much, but I have to draw boundaries with Carter or be done all together before I get Lennox any more involved. “I want him, I want everything that’s us. I have to stop worrying about what people will think. I was in a loveless marriage for thirteen years, and I deserve this with Lennox.”

I want to call Millie so I don’t call Lennox, but she’s out of town, and I’m needing his presence more than ever tonight. By the time I’m home, I’m fairly certain I’m going to call him. Until I get my period.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I change into sweats and grab my electric blanket. “PCOS sucks so bad!” I grumble as I settle into the couch.

Around midnight, I wake up with sharp pains in my lower belly, running down my thighs. I struggle getting up yet manage to plod to the bathroom. I realize something more is going on when I change and there’s a fluid discharge.

The pain is radiating through my lower back and without a doubt, I know it’s time to seek medical treatment. I yank my jacket off the back of the chair and snatch my purse up.

Somehow, I trek to my car, praying she’s going to be kind and start for me. I make the twenty-minute drive without major incident. I trudge into the ER, hoping to be seen quickly.

Apparently, my body believes I can handle more than I can. I’m not there thirty minutes and bleed through everything. I plod to the restroom, cleaning myself up as best as I can. I take slow deep breaths, refusing to call my parents to come help me.

“Miss Turner?” a nurse calls my name, dragging me from my dark depths. I stand with a weak smile and follow her back into a room. “The doctor will be right in.”

I fall over on the bed, covering up with the sheet. A wave of nausea hits me, and I run to the trash can, losing my lunch from today. “Please, just show me a little mercy.”

I fight my way back to the bed, laying on it with one hand over my face and the other on my stomach. Dizziness overwhelms me, bringing another round of nausea with it.

A light tap on the door and it opens. “Miss Turner?”

“Yes.” I sit up, swallowing hard.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Klecker. How are you doing?” She glances at me as she scribbles.

“I have a history of PCOS, pretty sure a cyst ruptured.”

She nods, still writing. “Alright, sounds like you know the drill. I’ll order you something to take and get some tests run.”

“Thank you.”

I’ve been here all night. They ran tests and scans. My IV is almost done, and I’m ready to go home and get a shower. I honestly need my bed like a mother trucker right now.