Free Unsevered by Traci Sanders Page B

We’re going to get you some help. What is your address?” Her voice is calm and soothing.
    “1422 … Oceanview … Drive.” My pain intensifies.
    “Ma’am we’re sending an ambulance. I want you to stay on the phone with me until they arrive, okay? Can you tell me your name?”
    I’m silent on the other end. Everything is black around me and I can’t speak.
    I’m sure I’m dying.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    M y eyes are half-open again. I’m lying on a bed and there are white coats all around me. People are yelling things at each other and I can’t make out the exact words, but I hear an occasional familiar one like, “stat” and “ultrasound.” I think I’m still alive.
    My voice is barely present. The room is spinning and everyone is moving at lightning speed around me. I feel a soothing rush of relief penetrating my veins as I close my eyes again. Harley’s face appears – so clear, so vivid, so real.
    “Hey, Jules.”
    “Harley?” I’m tired and weak.
    “It’s me, baby. Wow, you’ve been busy, huh?”
    “I was just packing up some of your things.” To have to say this to him makes me sad, and nervous.
    “I know. It’s okay. It’s good you’re moving on.”
    His blue eyes are sparkling and a gorgeous smile paints his face. My eyelids are heavy as they drop toward my cheeks.
    “You stay alive. Do you hear me?” Harley commands me. “You still have a lot of life to live yet. And it’s time for you to see your surprise.”
    I want to get up off the bed and hold him, kiss him, and look around for the surprise. But I can’t move.
    “Harley, I think I’m dying. I want to die. I want to be with you,’’ I say in a slow and desperate tone. “This wouldn’t be my fault. It would be natural causes and we can be together.”
    He just smiles and shakes his head. “No, it’s not your time. One day we’ll be together, but not yet. Now, wake up and get ready for your life.”  Harley doesn’t say another word. He’s gone again.
    I open my eyes again and look around. I’m in a much less busy room now. There are sheer, white curtains over the window and a bouquet of purple roses on the table in the corner.
    An African-American lady, probably in her mid-twenties, sporting pink scrubs and matching bright pink lipstick, enters the room. She’s beautiful with long, dark hair and pearly white teeth. I watch her come toward me and check the IV tube attached to my hand.
    “Hello there, sunshine.” Her voice is cheerful and comforting.
    “What am I doing here? What happened?” I ask.
    “The doctor will be in to see you in a moment and explain everything. Get some rest. I’ll go get you some lunch. You need to keep up your energy more than ever now.” Her words are delivered with a wink.
    She leaves the room and another lady in a white coat walks in.
    “Hello, Ms. Decker. My name is Dr. Walsh. I’m the gynecologist on staff here.”
    “Gynecologist?” My voice is a little stronger now.
    She stands about five-foot-seven, with long, wavy, chestnut hair and bright green eyes. Judging by the condition of her skin, I’d venture to say she is probably about thirty-five, though with a doctor’s income, I’m sure Botox injections and weekly spa treatments aide in keeping her true age a well-hidden secret. 
    “You got here just in time.” She continues. “We were able to repair the damage and both you and your baby are doing just fine now.”
    “Baby?” I sit up in the bed, in utter shock.
    “Yes.” She flips through the papers on her clip board and continues.               “According to the ultrasound, you’re about eighteen weeks along. You didn’t know?”
    “No! I mean … I haven’t … you know … had sex in a while. How can I be pregnant?”
    I sit and try to do the math in my head for a minute. Yep, that’d be about right. It had to be the night before Harley was deployed.
    A smile plays across my face and I rub my tummy. My happiness is replaced with an overwhelming