I was still reveling in what the person on the other line had just said to me when the door opened. A nurse that looked very agitated stood in my doorway, glaring at me.
"Did you just use the phone, Ms. Bristow?" she asked.
"Somebody called. I just answered it," I said as sweetly as I could, smiling.
She didn't buy into it. "The phone is only for extreme emergencies. Please refrain from using it again," the nurse reprimanded and left without another word. I just shrugged. I wouldn't let a nurse in a bad mood ruin anything.
But what of the voice on the phone? What information on Michael did he have? Did I want to hear it?
The sad thing was, yes, I did want to hear it. I wanted to hear anything this person could give me about him. I did not want to marry a stranger.
Suddenly my stomach started hurt. It was like something was kicking it. But then I realized. It was my baby. My baby was actually kicking!
"Somebody come in here!" I yelled excitedly, forgetting about the Nurse Call Button all hospitals had.
A different nurse came in, one that looked nicer, but panicky. "What is it Ms. Bristow?" she asked, looking frightened.
"My baby kicked! It's going to be okay, right?" I asked excitedly.
The nurse calmed down and gave me a warm smile. "Yes, the fact that the baby is kicking is a very good sign. Wait a moment, and I'll get something that will try to find the baby's heart rate," she explained, and left the room.
It was too bad that no one I knew was with me. I wanted to celebrate! I wanted to tell everybody that my baby was going to be okay!
The nurse returned with a small machine (A/N: Does anyone know what it really is that looks at an unborn baby's heart rate?) and gave me an encouraging smile.
After several minutes she cried out. "I can hear it! It's gained it's heart rate! This means that your baby is going to be just fine, and that maybe tomorrow you can even stand up again!" she looked very excited for me.
I gave her a very warm smile and thanked her. I was too happy to worry about the voice on the phone. In fact, I was determined not to think about it. This was my time, and I wouldn't let anything take me away from that happiness.
XXX
When I woke up it was around seven that morning. The nurse from last night, and the grouchy one were in my room, standing by a wheelchair.
"Ms. Bristow, if you'd like, we could take you to see your fiancé," the first nurse said.
"Yes, thank you." They helped me to stand up, and I sat down in the wheelchair, and let them lead me to his room. According to them, Michael had not left the ER but was in a section closer to my room.
When I looked at Michael, my heart dropped. There he was, lying in the ER, looking so peaceful, and here I was wanting to throw something at him. Because he wasn't the guy I thought he was. He was the guy I spent my whole life hating.
"I can take it from here. Thanks," I told the nurses, and they both left. Michael was stirring, looking like he was finishing up a good dream. I didn't move any closer than where they had left me. I was afraid that if I did, I would hit him.
"S-Syd?" he muttered as he stretched.
"Yes. It's me," I said coldly.
"Oh Sydney. They told me you were okay, and I went crazy with emotion. I couldn't stop…" he sounded like he was going to start all over again.
"Do you want to tell me what you were going to say before we got run over by that SUV?" I cut in.
"What?"
I sighed. "What were you going to tell me? I'm not going to let you stall with the answer," I said harshly. Maybe a little too harshly.
"Look, it's complicated, and I really don't have the strength for it. Really!" I exclaimed, noticing my impatient gaze.
"I'm pregnant, Michael. If that's your real name. Did you know that? I'm pregnant with your child, and I just received news last night that it's going to be okay. I didn't lose it in the crash. I want to marry you to give this child it's father, but if we are going to get married, I want the truth. Okay?" I exclaimed.
Telling him I was pregnant with his child apparently wasn't the right approach to getting him to tell me the truth. "You're p-pregnant? And it's m-mine?"
I nodded. "Oh Sydney, this is great!" he exclaimed. I had had enough. "Tell me what your real name is, and I'll leave you to figure out what you'll say. Is that enough?" I snapped at him, truly pissed.
He sighed. "Okay. It's Matt. Matt Voux. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
I was stunned. I didn't actually think he would tell me. But I nodded anyway. "Fine. But we're not finished with this conversation. Matt."
He winced when I called him by his real name. I wanted to say it again, just to rub it in his face, but he looked hurt enough that I didn't. I called for Greta and Nancy (the nurses), and they took me back to my room, where Jack was waiting.
"Hello. Sydney, what's wrong?" he asked, for I had started to cry.
"Nothing."
"You went to see Vaughn?" he asked, staring at me in concern.
No," I shook my head. "I went to see Matt Voux."
Dad didn't say anything. Instead he helped me to stand and walk to my bed. "I heard that the baby is going to be okay. Your mother will be very happy to hear that," he said, changing the subject. I was grateful to him for that.
"Thanks. But Dad," I lowered my voice so as not to be overheard. "Last night somebody called me, telling me that they would be here to tell me about Vaughn," I said, refusing to call him by his real name.
"Really? I'll get APO on it. We'll record the conversation, and look into it." I don't remember ever feeling more appreciative towards him than I did at that moment.
I filled him in on all the details, and at 4:30 he left to prepare. I was filled with anxiety and nervousness.
At precisely five, the door opened. A man stepped into the room, an all too familiar man.
"Sark."
A/N: And the twist of the day, although Serendipity9 did guess correctly! An extra cookie to you! I'm terribly sorry for not replying, but I'm on a time crunch, so I will reply next chapter! Review please!
Please tell me what you think about Michael Vaughn's real name! Good, bad? Let me know!
