Mine To Love (Southern Wedding #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Wedding Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 70092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
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"You okay?" Clarabella asks when she pulls away from my mother's house.

"I mean, no one died." I try to make a joke out of it. “And I didn't throw up."

"At one point"—Clarabella laughs—“I thought Mom's head was going to explode."

"That would have been too easy for anyone." I look out the window. “How long do you think it's going to take her before she corners Bennett and tells him to put a ring on it?"

Clarabella laughs. “Two days max." I can't help but think she's right. “And she's going to use the you want to buy the cow if you are going to drink the milk."

I can't help but throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, she's definitely going to use that." I stop talking when a sharp pain runs through my stomach, and I yell out.

"What the fuck?" Clarabella asks, and I look over at her.

"I just had," I start to say when another pain hits my stomach. "Sharp pain," I say, panting now.

"Maybe you have to poop," she says when she pulls into my driveway. I get out of the car and rush up the stairs when I feel it.

"No," I say, shaking my head. “No.” I throw everything on the floor and head straight into the bathroom. Not even bothering to close the door, I look down and see the blood in my underwear. “Oh my God," I say, sitting down. “Don't panic," I tell myself, looking up and seeing Clarabella standing there now. Her face is white like a ghost. “Spotting is normal." I don't know if I'm telling her or convincing myself. I wipe myself, and it's not spotting. It's bright red blood. “That is not spotting."

My whole body just shuts down, and I feel this whole sense of dread come over me. “We should go to the hospital." All I can do is look up at Clarabella, not sure what to say or do. "Come on," she urges softly, picking me up off the toilet bowl and pulling up my panties my skirt falls down over my legs. “Let's get going." She puts her arm in mine as she walks me down the hallway, only stopping to pick up my purse and phone at the front door.

I don't even know how I make it to the car. Everything inside me stops. My body feels like it’s on the outside looking in. She gets in the car, and I look over at her. “Don't tell anyone," I say softly as she nods her head, reversing out of my driveway. My heart rises to my throat.

I close my eyes, not sure I can stand to look at her as she drives. My hand rests on my stomach the whole time as I hold the baby in the palms of my hands. This isn't happening is the only thing I can repeat over and over to myself. When the car comes to a stop, I open my eyes and see that we are in the parking lot of the emergency room at the hospital. "I've got your purse,” Clarabella says, and all I can do is nod at her. The lump in my throat is so big, if I say a word, all that is going to come out is a sob.

The doors slide open as soon as we get close to them, walking into the white room. There are brown chairs everywhere, and most are empty. "Hi," Clarabella greets when she stops, and I look at her talking to a lady sitting behind a glass partition. “My sister is eleven weeks pregnant, and she got a sharp pain in her stomach, and now she is bleeding."

The lady behind the glass looks at her and then at me. “I need her insurance papers, please." I move my eyes from her. She asks questions, and Clarabella answers them all. "Someone will call you shortly."

"But I'm bleeding," I say, my voice trembling, looking at her, and she gives me a sad look.

"I'll see what I can do." She gets up, and I look over at Clarabella, who tries not to show me that she's worried, but you can see she has this fear in her eyes.

"It's going to be fine," she comforts, smiling and trying to calm me down. I turn to walk to the brown chair, but we don't have time to sit down before my name is called.

I feel like I'm in a trance, my feet are moving because they need to. We walk through another brown door, and this time, there is a nurse there waiting. “Presley Baker?" I don't know if she is asking or telling, and the only thing I can do is nod my head. "Right this way." She turns, and I follow her, not realizing the whole time that I'm holding my stomach.



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