Beeping monitors pulled Emma from darkness. Her mouth felt desert-dry, her thoughts cloudy and disconnected. Hospital. She was in a hospital. Why?
Memory returned in painful fragments—the charity dinner, the pregnancy tests, searing pain, Alek's terrified face.
Her hand flew to her stomach, finding only bandages and soreness.
"Emma." Alek's voice, rough with exhaustion. He appeared at her bedside, unshaven and rumpled in yesterday's dress shirt, bow tie long gone. His eyes were red-rimmed, his expression a mixture of relief and something else she couldn't immediately identify.
"The baby," she whispered, already knowing the answer from his face.
Alek took her hand, his touch gentle as if she might shatter. "It was ectopic—in your fallopian tube. It ruptured, causing internal bleeding."
