Ch 49. Can we survive

Renee doubled over in the barn, pain coursing through her abdomen. Jake barely caught as her knees buckled. Her coffee mug shattered across the floor, forgotten. Then it was there, blood—just a small spot at first—poured down both of her thighs. Jake’s heart stopped. He didn’t wait. He rushed her to the ER, one hand holding hers tightly while the other gripping the wheel. Renee cried throughout the pain, she was restless and contracting, but he kept telling her it was going to be okay—even though he wasn’t sure himself. At the hospital, after what felt like hours of tests and private conversations behind curtains, the doctor came in. “It’s a threatened miscarriage,” she said carefully. “The baby is still here, but she’s high risk and needs to be on bed rest immediately—no stress, no physical strain. We’ll need to monitor her weekly.” Jake nodded, holding Renee’s hand the whole time, never letting her feel alone. Once they got back to the house and settled, Renee finally fell into a sad, restless sleep. Jake stepped outside and made the call. Mike answered on the second ring. “You need to come straight home,” Jake said, voice cracking. “Right now.”

“What happened?” Mike asking, already panicked. “She collapsed. There was blood. The doctor says it's a high-risk miscarriage, Mike. She's on bed rest.” There was a long pause. Then Jake added, more softer, “She needs you, Mike.” he didn’t respond just hung up. Jake left quietly to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy. When Mike arrived not long after, the house was quiet—too quiet. He walked slowly through the house, up the stairs, the bedroom door was open. He saw her laying on the bed, pale, a protective arm across her belly. His chest tightened. Memories from that night slammed into him—her moans, the arch of her back, how she whispered that she wanted more. How he gave it to her—rougher, deeper, like she asked, squeezing her, pushing on her... His stomach turned. She moved a little, adjusting her legs, still sleeping. A spot of red peeked from the blanket near her foot.

Mike sat in the chair, his hands shaking. This was his fault. The thought carved itself in his brain like a cancer. And for the first time, Mike didn't think he could live with what loving her might have cost. Jake returned a short while later, sneaking quietly into the house, the pharmacy bag in his hand. He found Mike still seated in the corner, motionless, eyes distant and cold. “She’s still asleep?” Jake asked, glancing at Renee’s still figure under the blanket. “Come downstairs. You need some coffee.” Mike didn’t respond at first, but when Jake touched his shoulder, he nodded, like coming up from deep waters. They stepped out, Jake gently pulling the door closed behind them. In the kitchen, the quiet sound of the coffee maker filled the silence as Jake poured them both a cup. He slid one across the table to Mike.

“She’s okay,” Jake said, voice steady. Mike stared into the coffee like it might hold answers. “No,” he muttered. “She’s not. I did this, Jake. Last night—I didn’t hold back. She said she wanted more, and I gave it to her. I didn’t think…” His voice cracked. “I didn’t think I would hurt her and I did.” Jake leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him. “We were all in that room. None of us thought about the risk. You can’t take blame all on yourself.”
“But I do,” Mike snapped, then lowered his voice. “I felt her tense under me. I should’ve slowed down should have stopped.” Jake’s eyes softened, but before he could speak, a loud thump rang out from upstairs. Both men froze. Jake dropped his mug, standing up. “Renee,” Mike whispered, already bolting up the stairs. Mike was the first to reach the top, his heart slammed against his chest. The door to the bedroom was wide open, and the sight that met him stopped him cold. Renee was passed out in the doorway, her body curled in on itself like she’d collapsed mid-step. Her nightshirt was soaked with blood—too much blood. It was smeared across her thighs, pooled beneath her, and all over the bed. Her skin was ghostly pale, lips trembling, eyes fluttering as if she were barely hanging on. “Renee!” Mike dropped to his knees beside her, gathering her into his arms with trembling hands. “God, no—no, no, no—stay with me. Please.”

Her lips moved, hardly forming words, her breath shallow and slow. “I… tried…” That was all she managed before her eyes rolled back, and her body went limp in his arms. Mike froze. His own breath caught in his throat, and a cold dread settled deep in his bones. For a split second, all he could do was hold her, his mind rushing with panic and guilt. Jake flew in seconds later, nearly tripping over the threshold. His eyes widened at the scene, and without hesitating, he pulled out his phone. “I’m calling 911,” he said, his voice panicked but focused. “Mike—talk to her. Keep her awake man. Don’t let her go.” Mike nodded numbly, brushing Renee’s damp hair from her forehead, his voice barely holding together. “Hey Renee, hey—it’s okay, baby. Just keep breathe. Help is coming, alright they are coming ok? we are here with you. You hear me?” But she still didn’t answer.

Jake yelling into the phone, his voice shaking but clear. “Yes—emergency. She’s unconscious, there’s a lot of bleeding. Early pregnancy, possible miscarriage. Please, hurry.” Mike could feel her slipping, her pulse hardlt there beneath his fingers. “You promised,” he whispered, tears falling freely. “You promised we’d figure this out. You can’t leave—not like this.” Jake crouched beside them after hanging up, his hand holding Mike’s shoulder. “They're on the way. five minutes. That’s all we need. She’s strong.” Mike didn’t respond, didn’t move. He just held Renee tighter, rocking slightly as if that motion might keep her here. His thoughts spiraled—this was his fault. He’d ignored the signs. He hadn’t protected her. He pushed too far. Too hard.

And now they could lose everything. Jake sat there, silent, one hand on Mike’s back, the other pressed to Renee’s wrist, counting faint beats as sirens howled in the distance. All they could do was wait. The sirens grew louder, echoing through the countryside like a cruel storm. Mike didn’t budge, holding Renee against his chest, whispering her name over and over like a prayer. Jake paced near the window, eyes focused on the driveway, fists clenched. “She’s still breathing,” Mike said, but his voice cracked on the last word. The red and white lights finally painted across the walls. Jake ran down to guide them inside. When they burst through the door, Mike tried to let go, but his arms didn’t cooperate. “Please,” he begged them. "Just save her please" They moved fast—oxygen, vitals, a stretcher. As they lifted her, Renee’s hand slipped from Mike’s. Her lips parted. “Ja…” she tried to whisper.

And right then her body went limp again. The monitor beeped once—twice—then.....flatlined. Mike’s scream shattered the silence. Jake slowly fell, silently beside him, eyes flooding.