I contemplate my answer, because really I’m not sure what to say. I can’t say that yes, I’m moving back to Raleigh, because to Natalie that will translate as: I’m moving back here and everything is going to be exactly the way it was before. What it really means is that I miss Natalie and my mom, and because Texas and I just weren’t right for each other.

The truth suddenly dawns on me as I stare out intently across the mall. All those days I lay around in bed staring up at the ceiling while Andrew was working at the shop with Billy Frank, I kept trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me, why I’ve been feeling so homesick yet at the same time not really wanting to come back home. I remember when I first arrived in Texas with Andrew. Hell, I remember while we were on the road together shortly before we drove over the Texas state line. I didn’t want to go there. I was afraid that everything would end in Texas, that the exciting life I was living with Andrew on the road would become nothing more than a memory once we made it to our final destination.

And in a way… it has…

I swallow a huge lump in my throat and mentally catch my breath.

It’s not because of Lily. I love her so much and could never blame her. Because the truth is that life doesn’t end with a pregnancy. A lot of people seem to think that, but I believe in my heart that it’s all in the way you choose to live it. Sure, having a baby is one of the most difficult things to do, but it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t have to be the shattering of a person’s dreams. What Andrew and I have been slowly doing without realizing it is what shatters dreams: we’ve been getting too comfortable. The kind of comfortable that sneaks up on you years later, hits you in the back of the head, and says: Hey dumbass! Do you realize you’ve been doing this shit every day for the past ten years?

I keep my eyes trained out ahead. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, Nat,” I say and then finally look over at her. “I mean, yes, I’m moving back home, but…”

Her dark eyebrows draw inward with a questioning look. “But what?”

I look away, and when I don’t answer her fast enough she says, “Oh, no, don’t tell me Andrew’s not coming with you. Girl, is something going on with you two?”

I swing back around. “No, Nat, it’s nothing like that, and yes, he’s definitely coming with me—I don’t know. It’s just hard to explain.”

She purses her lips, lifting one side of her mouth, and takes a hold of my elbow. “We’ve got all afternoon for you to figure it out, so let’s get to the salon and you can be thinking really hard about it on the way.” She bends over and takes up her purse and bag, dangling them on her free wrist while walking with me toward the closest mall exit.

We’re at the salon in minutes and it’s a packed house, which is exactly how I remembered it being on weekends. Natalie and I are perched high in the pedicure chairs with two girls tending to our bare feet. It’s been a long time since my last pedicure, so I hope my toes aren’t too hideous.

“You know, Cam, you never did tell me why you left.” Natalie looks over at me. “Please tell me it wasn’t my fault.”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault in particular,” I say. “I just needed to get away for a while. I couldn’t breathe.”

“Well, I’d never do something that reckless, but I admit, the way things turned out was nothing short of amazing.”

That makes me smile. “They did, didn’t they?”

“Absolutely,” she says beaming, her brown eyes lit up. “You ended up with sex on legs”—the girl doing her pedicure glances up briefly—“an engagement ring, and a cute-ass baby on the way.” Natalie laughs. “I’m fuckin’ jealous!”

I laugh too, though not as loud. “First off, why be jealous of me when you’ve got Blake? And second, how do you know what our baby will look like?”

Natalie purses her lips and looks over at me like I’m stupid. “Seriously? The two of you couldn’t produce an ugly baby.” The girl doing my toes rolls her eyes at the other girl. “And I’m not jealous of you because of Andrew, I’m jealous because I’ll probably end up like my mom, never seeing much outside of North Carolina. I’m OK with that. I’m not like Miss Greyhound, and I feel claustrophobic when someone breathes on me too closely, but in a way I do envy you.”

I think to myself about what she said, but I don’t elaborate on it.

My back is starting to hurt again, and I try readjusting myself on the seat without being able to move my feet much. My side hurts a little, too, but I’m sure it’s from all of the walking around today.

“So have you figured it out?” Natalie asks.

“What?”

She blinks, surprised at how easily it seems I forgot our conversation at the mall. I didn’t forget at all; I’ve just been trying to avoid it.

“The truth is,” I begin, looking away from her and picturing Andrew in my mind, “I don’t want to move back home or stay in Texas. I mean I do want to be here, but I’m terrified I’ll end up like your mom, too.” I never would’ve used her mom as an example, but it really was the easiest way to make Natalie understand, especially since she just used the same comparison moments ago, so it was a no-brainer.

“Yeah, I totally get you,” Natalie says, nodding. “But what else would you do? There’s really not much you can do otherwise, especially with a baby on the way.”

God, why did she have to say that? I sigh quietly and try not to look at her so she doesn’t see the disappointment in my face. Natalie is my best friend, but I’ve always known she’ll be one of those people who live out their entire lives in a colorless bubble and only wake up to regret it when it’s too late to change it. She just proved it with her comment about how having a baby pretty much means the end of line as far as a fun, fulfilling kind of life is concerned. And because she’ll never understand, I don’t respond to that, either.

“Cam? You sure you’re OK?”

I catch my breath and look over at her. Another sharp pain moves through my side and suddenly I feel like I’m starting to break out in a mild sweat. Without regard to the girl doing my pedicure, I pull my foot away from her hands and grab the arms of the chair to lift myself out of it.

“I need to go the restroom.”

“Camryn?”

“I’m alright, Nat,” I say, stepping down from the chair. “Sorry,” I say to the girl, and I make my way past her and head toward the short hallway underneath the restroom sign. I try not to look like I’m in pain on the way because I don’t want Natalie following me, but knowing her she will, anyway.

Placing my hand on the stall door, I swing it open and lock myself inside, finally able to show my true level of discomfort. Tiny beads of sweat cover my forehead and the area underneath my nostrils. Something’s definitely not right. This may be my first time ever experiencing a pregnancy, but I can still tell that what I’m feeling right now isn’t normal. I use the restroom quickly, head out of the tiny stall that’s only adding to the discomfort, and move over to the elongated sink.

This can’t be happening…

My hands are shaking uncontrollably. No, my whole body is shaking. I raise my hand to the automatic soap dispenser and wash my hands but I never get the chance to dry them off before what is going on hits me full force. I break down in a blubbering mess, pressing my hands against the edge of the counter. The physical pain is gone for now, but… maybe I’m just being paranoid. Yeah, that’s all it is. Paranoia. The pain is gone, so surely I’m all right.

I take a deep breath and then several more before raising my head from between my slouching shoulders and look at myself in the mirror. I lift one wet hand and wipe the sweat from my face and the leftover tears from my cheeks. I even feel better long enough to be grossed out when I realize I’m standing in a public restroom with bare feet.

The entrance door swings open and Natalie marches inside.

“Seriously, are you OK? No, I take that back, obviously you’re not, so what’s going on? I’m calling Andrew. Right now.” She starts to leave the restroom and go back into the front where her phone is, but I stop her.

“Nat, no, just wait.”

“Screw that,” she says. “I’m calling him in exactly sixty seconds, so you have less than that now to explain.”

I give in because as much as I wanted to let myself believe I’m OK, deep down I know I’m not. Especially after what I saw before I left the stall.

“I’ve been having back and side pain and I’m spotting.”

“Spotting?” She makes a slight disgusted face, but masks it well and is clearly more worried than disgusted. “You mean like… blood?” She looks at me in a suspicious sidelong glance and then holds it there until I answer.

“Yes.”

Without another word, the bathroom door swings shut behind her and she’s gone.

Now, there comes a time in a person’s life when you have to face something so horrible that you feel like you’ll never be the same person again. It’s like something dark swoops down from somewhere above and steals every shred of happiness you have ever felt and all you can do is watch it, feel it go, knowing that no matter what you do in your life that you’ll never be able to get it back. Everybody goes through this at least once. No one is immune. But what I fail to understand is how one person can go through it enough for five people and in such a short time.

* * *

I’m lying in an emergency room hospital bed curled up within a blanket. Natalie sits on the chair to my left. I can’t speak. I’m too scared.

“What the f**k is taking them so long?” Natalie says about the doctors. She stands up and begins to pace the room, her tall heels clicking softly against the bright white tile floor.

Then she changes her tune.

She stops and looks at me and says with a hopeful face, “Maybe since they’re taking their sweet time about checking you out, they don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

I don’t believe that, but I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. This is only the second time I’ve ever been to an ER. My first time, when I nearly drowned after jumping off bluffs into the lake, it seemed I was in there for six hours. And that was mostly just to stitch up the gash I got on my hip from when I hit the rocks.

I roll over and lie on my side and stare at the wall. Just seconds after, the sliding glass door opens. I think it’s finally a doctor, but my heart skips a few beats when Andrew comes into the room. He and Natalie exchange a few low words that I pretend not to hear.

“They haven’t even been in here yet except to ask her a few questions and to give her a blanket.”

Andrew’s eyes fall on mine briefly, and I see the worry in his face even though he’s trying really hard not to be so obvious. He knows what’s happening as much as I do, but also like me, he’s not going to say it or let himself believe it until a doctor confirms it first.