Trouble in Paradise.

8. Shoulder.

Chapter 8: Shoulder.

Fluttering my eyes open, I stare at the ceiling of my hospital room. I've been here for three days. I lost my voice two days ago, due to my intense crying and screaming spree. Zachary has been here with me through it all. He just stepped out to go get me some food.

My phone rings beside me and I answer it.

It's my publicist.

"Hey Sarah." I say, weakly into the phone.

"What's this I hear about a miscarriage? It's all over the blogs, Val." She tells me.

"It's true. I had a miscarriage this weekend." I tell her.

"Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't want to believe it, even after I saw a video of you screaming and crying in the hospital reception." She says and I wipe my eyes.

"Yeah. Can you help me deal with this? I really don't want people talking about this all week long." I ask her.

"Of course, it's my job. I'll do some damage control. It'll blow over in no time." She tells me.
"How are you feeling?" She adds.

"Sore. Weak. Empty." I tell her and she sighs.

"It's going to be alright, Val. Hang in there." She says, encouraging me.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you soon." I tell her before I hang up.

So, everybody knows.

And if it's all over the blogs, that means my mother knows.

I am fucking screwed.

Scrolling through Instagram, I stumble on a video of me in the hospital reception and I click on the comments.

Dariusxx: She's overreacting, miscarriages don't hurt that bad.

Janice354: Oh My God, she's totally overdoing it. I've had two miscarriages and they did not hurt that bad.

Chaseeverdeen21: Ugh, rich people.

Cutebunnyyy: Why the fuck did Zachary Henderson get himself into this mess. I would have just left her there and gone home.

Sarah875: She is so fake.

"Hey, I'm back." Zachary says as he walks inside the room.

I turn off my phone and I wipe my eyes, acting as if I wasn't crying two seconds ago.

"What did you get me?" I ask him, trying my best to fake a smile.

"I got you some grilled asparagus and chicken with a side of fries." He says, smiling at me.

"How do you know my Olive Garden order?" I ask him.

"Let's just say Google comes in handy when I want to know things about you these days." He says, smiling and I frown.

He looks at me and his smile drops.

"Did I say something wrong?" He asks me and I shake my head.

"No, I just realized that that's what everyone probably does. I hate being famous. I can't have anything to myself, or anyone. One way or the other, the media always finds out and then I'm scrutinized for my every move." I say, running my forehead.

I feel a headache coming on.

"That's what we signed up for." He says, shrugging as he hands me my food.

"You might have, but I sure as hell didn't. I became famous by mistake." I tell him and he laughs.
"I'm being serious. You signed an NFL contract and shot yourself to super stardom and I just started a company and got famous from there. What are the odds of that happening? I hate being in the public eye and I hate signing stupid autographs. Out there spraining my wrist and shit." I say and Zachary holds his stomach, dying of laughter.