Blind Love

Chapter 75 • Out Of Line

"Your blood glucose is one-hundred forty-two," Claire says, wiping the spot of blood from my already bruised and throbbing index finger.

"That's high, isn't it?"

"A little higher than we prefer, but we're keeping an eye on it."

Nodding in acknowledgment, I watch as Claire packs up the glucose monitor kit and walks around the foot of the bed. Since I'm lying on my left side, I can't see her but I know she's left my room now, even without her saying a simple goodbye. She's far younger than my other nurses and not as friendly, but I'm not going to take it personally because some doctors and nurses have better bedside manner than others.

Exhaling a calming breath, I smooth my hand on my belly and the gurgling in my stomach rumbles on my hand. The flutters are almost tickling my palm and I assume I'm just hungry.

I turn my head on the pillow and squint my eyes at the clock on the wall to read that it's only five minutes after seven. Exhaling a frustrated breath, I relax my head into the pillow and stare at the open blinds covering the window.

I don't know exactly what time Harry left, but it's felt like an eternity. I've never seen him that angry before, especially at me, but now that the initial hurt of what he said has faded, I've realized he's right. Our babies wouldn't have it this difficult if I had followed Dr. Tate's orders to the T.

Since I don't have a time machine to go back and fix this, I'm going to follow through my bed rest and healthy eating one-hundred and ten percent. That along with the medicines Dr. Tate has me on, should keep me and my babies safe, and I'll even wish on all of the stars in the universe for this to work.

Harry's been nothing but supportive and helpful and I know he's going to be the best father because he cares for our twins so much already. He's protective and loving and I can't wait to see him hold our babies when the time comes.

A knock at the door brings me out of my thoughts and I turn my head on the pillow to see a nurse in scrubs walk in carrying a tray.

"Dinner's served," he says, bringing it over and he sets it on the tray table.

"Thank you. Mm, it smells good."

He laughs, "You must be starving then."

"Yeah, I guess I am because my stomach has not stopped rumbling all evening."

"Good thing I brought your dinner now. Eat up and feed those babies," he cutely says. "Would you like the tellie on?"

"No, thank you. I like the quiet."

"Alright. Enjoy," he says and walks out of my view and I hear the door close.

Keeping my eyes on the dinner tray, I carefully push myself further up on the bed and I remove the cover from the plate. The sight of the shredded roast beef and pile of peas is anything but appetizing and I reach for the fork on the napkin.

There's no sense in waiting for Harry because I don't know when he'll be back, if at all, so I take my first bite. As I chew the bland, unseasoned meat, I remind myself that it's good for the babies and I stab a few peas on the spears of the fork and take a bite.

While I chew, I look around the tray for a salt and pepper packet but there are none. I've never been one to use them, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Now that I'm almost done with my meal, I reach for my half-filled jug of water and take a long sip to wash the bite down. Exhaling a satisfied breath, I set the jug back on the table and grab my fork. With some meat and peas on the spears of the fork, I bring it to my mouth and there's a knock at the door.