Black Dagger Brotherhood 11 - Lover at Last

bathroom?”
    “Yes, please—”
    “Wait, don’t get on your feet yet. Let me get you a better cover.”
    Layla looked down at her hands, her tangled, knotted hands that could not be still. “Thank you.”
    “Here you go.” Something soft was draped around her. “Okay, let’s get you standing.”
    Sliding off the table, she wobbled a little, and the nurse was right there, taking hold of her elbow, steadying her.
    “We’re going to go slowly.”
    And they did. Out in the hall, there were nurses rushing from room to room, and people coming and going for appointments, and other staff going at a dead run…and Layla couldn’t believe she had ever been as fast as them. To keep out of the crush, she and her kindly escort stayed close to the wall to avoid getting mowed over, but the others were really quite nice. As if all knew that she suffered in some grave manner.
    “I’m going to come in with you,” the nurse said when they got to the facilities. “Your blood pressure is very low and I’m concerned you’re a fall risk, okay?”
    As Layla nodded, they went in and the lock was turned. The nurse relieved her of the blanket, and she awkwardly shuffled the paper out of the way.
    Sitting down, she—
    “Oh, dearest Virgin Scribe.”
    “Shh, it’s okay, it’s all right.” The nurse bent down and gave her the fresh pad. “Let’s take care of this. You’re all right…here, no, you’ll want to give that to me. We have to send it to the lab. There’s a chance it can be used to determine why this is happening, and you’re going to want that information if you try again.”
    Try again. As if the loss was already done.
    The nurse snapped on gloves and got a plastic bag from out of a console. Things were taken care of discreetly and with alacrity, and Layla watched as the name she’d given was written on the outside of the bag in black marker.
    “Oh, honey, it’s okay.”
    The nurse took off her gloves, snapped out a paper towel from the holder on the wall, and knelt down. Taking Layla’s chin in her gentle hand, she carefully dried cheeks that had become wet with tears.
    “I know what you’re going through. I lost one, too.” The nurse’s face became beautiful with compassion. “Are you sure we can’t call your
hellren
?”
    Layla just shook her head.
    “Well, let me know if you change your mind. I know it’s hard to see them upset and worried, but don’t you think he’ll want to be with you?”
    Oh, however was she going to tell Qhuinn? He had seemed so sure of everything, as if he had already looked into the future and stared into the eyes of their young. This was going to be a shock.
    “Will I know if I ever was pregnant?” Layla mumbled.
    The nurse hesitated. “The blood test may tell, but it depends on how far along you are with what’s happening.”
    Layla stared at her hands again. Her knuckles were white. “I need to know whether I’m losing a young or this is just the normal bleeding that occurs when one does not conceive. That’s important.”
    “It’s not for me to say, I’m afraid.”
    “You know, though. Don’t you.” Layla looked up and met the female’s eyes. “Don’t you.”
    “Again, it’s not my place, but…with this much blood?”
    “I was pregnant.”
    The nurse made a hedging motion with her hands, her lips pursing. “Don’t tell Havers I said this…but probably. And you mustknow, there is nothing you can do to stop the process. It’s not your fault, and you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just, sometimes, these things simply happen.”
    Layla hung her head. “Thank you for being honest with me. And…in truth, that is what I believe to be occurring.”
    “A female knows. Now, let’s take you back.”
    “Yes, thank you very much.”
    Except Layla struggled with getting her panties in place as she stood up. When it became clear she couldn’t get her hands coordinated, the nurse stepped in and helped with enviable ease, and it was all so embarrassing and frightening. To be so weak and at the mercy of another for such a simple thing.
    “You have the most gorgeous accent,” the nurse said as they rejoined the traffic in the hall, sticking once again to their slow lane. “It’s so Old Country—my
granmahmen
would approve. She hates how English has become our dominant language here. Thinks it’s going to be the downfall of the species.”
    The conversation about nothing in particular helped, giving Layla something to focus on other than how