Ain't Nobody Like You

Chapter Forty

(****TW: Pregnancy Loss****)

One Week Later, New York City

After talking to a realtor, I'm officially putting my apartment on the market. It's sad, but I'm so happy I'm doing it. Like a wonderful chapter of my life closing so I can create new ones in Detroit.

I walk through the empty apartment one last time with Bree, reminiscing. The balcony where I'd write songs late at night when I couldn't sleep, listening to the city sounds. The juice stain on the couch from Hailie's first visit here is still there. The kitchen where I cooked and baked so many meals and desserts for the first time. The bedroom I spent so many nights alone and then so many with the love of my life. 

"I'm sorry, but we have to go Katie." Bree informs me, always keeping me on schedule.

I nod and pull out my camera first, "I know it's silly but can you take a picture of me first?"

Bree agrees, taking the camera from me. I pose in the middle of the room, a duplicate image of the photo I took when I first moved in.

After the flash goes off, I wince as a sharp pain in my abdomen hits me- not for the first time today.

I still haven't fully recovered from that bout of sickness I had last week. I've been feeling off for days now. Not outright sick, no more throwing up thankfully, but fatigued and nauseous. I thought maybe it was just that my body was drained- emotionally and physically. But it has yet to pass. But now, for the last couple hours, it's been replaced with painful cramps.

I guess being a few days late is the cause for it all. I haven't been gifted with easy periods in the past- which is why I was on the pill even when I wasn't in a relationship. It eased my time of the month considerably. But this...this is even worse than any before and it hasn't even started yet.

"You okay?" Bree asks, watching me carefully. 

I shake it off, "Yeah, I'm good. Just a cramp."

When we leave the apartment, we head directly to Times Square for my TRL interview. In my dressing room, I change into a denim skirt with a black tank top and accessorize with a scarf, jewelry, and hat.

While I have my finishing touches down, hair and makeup, a sharp pain hits me in the stomach again making me gasp out loud this time. I smile at my stylists, waving off their concerned looks and excuse myself to the bathroom, locking it behind me just as another stabbing pain shoots through me.

The room spins and I grip onto the sink to steady myself. A warm feeling trickles down my leg and for a moment I think I've lost control of my bladder. But when I reach down to check, my hand comes back with blood on it.

"Shoot." I mutter to myself as I clean myself up in a panic. Next to the sink is a basket full of sanitary napkins. I take one. 

I take a few moments to gather myself together before going back out into the dressing room, thankful that it's now empty. The stylists left since their job was done. I sit in my chair in front of the mirror alone. But as soon as I look at my face, tears fill my eyes.

Something's wrong. I think I know what's happening, I feel it in my bones. But I don't know if I can admit to it yet.

I hear a rapid knock as the door opens and Bree walks in without waiting for an answer, "Katie you're on in- oh my god, what happened?"

"Nothing.", I wipe away my tears quickly. There's no point in crying about a maybe. "Uhm, how's my makeup? I didn't ruin it did I?"

"No, you look beautiful." She replies, confused still.