Just then another sharp pain stabbed me again; this one so intense that it caused me to cry out in agony. The nurse pulled the bed sheet down past my feet, allowing me a split second to feel between my legs with my hand. Crimson red blood was all over my fingertips.

The other nurse wheeled the large ultrasound machine back into my room.

Doctor Willsten came running. I was hooked up to a blood pressure machine in no time. As soon as the doctor saw the amount of blood, he quietly instructed the nurse to call for an O.R. suite. I was wise enough to know that meant surgery.

The doctor was performing the ultrasound of my stomach while the one nurse monitored my blood pressure. Ryan stayed at the head of my bed;

he was frozen in place. We were all listening intently to the whoosh-whoosh sound of our baby’s heartbeat. Gradually it slowed in tempo until it just abruptly stopped. There was nothing but silence. I felt faint.

In an instant, four people were in my room, lifting me up by the bed sheet to relocate me on a gurney. I was wheeled out of my room in a hurry.

“Where are you taking her?” Ryan cried out.

I reached my hand out to him but a nurse was blocking Ryan from following me. The nurse stayed with Ryan when they wheeled me out of my room.

Next thing I remember I was being rolled into a room with bright lights. People were hustling all around me. I was so confused and now completely sedated that I couldn’t even speak if I wanted to. A nurse took each of my weak legs and propped them up in stirrups. A plastic mask was placed over my mouth and nose. In an instant, everything was black again.

My eyes flickered when I started to wake up. It was hard to keep my eyes open for any great length of time. Some sort of machine was beeping rhythmically in the background, lulling me back to sleep. I felt the cool rush of air streaming into my nose. I must have that air hose prong thing stuck in my nose again.

“Taryn. How you doing hun?” Some lady spoke loudly at me. “Can you wake up for me?”

I looked at her with one eye. Who the hell are you and why are you shouting in my ear?

“Hey there! Time to wake up! We’re going to take you back to your room now. You’re going to be just fine.” She smiled at me.

I was still groggy when they brought me back to my room. I saw Mike and another man perched on chairs outside my door. They stood up when the nurses stopped my gurney.

I could see Ryan sitting in a chair in my room; his face was in his hands until he heard the commotion in the hallway. When I saw him up close, I noticed his eyes were red and puffy. I could tell he’d been crying. Sitting across the room from him was the hospital chaplain.

The doctor explained that the impact caused my placenta to separate from my uterus and that the baby didn’t make it. The doctor had to remove it all from my body, but he assured us that I’d still be able to have children.

The chaplain tried to give us words of comfort, using soft tones and encouraging us to believe in God’s will. He said a prayer for the innocent life that left us today. Although I appreciated his efforts, I thanked him and asked him politely to give Ryan and me some privacy.

Ryan set his face on my chest and gently wrapped my bruised body in a hug; I draped my good arm up around him. I felt his tears as they soaked into my gown. We both sobbed uncontrollably, breaking down from the agony of our loss.

“There you go!” Marie gently smiled at me as she finished wrapping a long scarf around my neck and face. “No one will see your puffy lip now.”

“Are there a lot out there?” I motioned with my chin towards the window.

“A few,” Ryan muttered, helping me with my coat. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t see you leave. Are you sure about this? I mean I’ll charter a private plane…”

“No, Ryan. Please? I want to go home. I just want to get out of this hospital and sleep in my own bed.”

“But Marla said that…” Ryan continued.

“I don’t care what your Publicist said,” I raised my voice slightly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to hide somewhere. Maybe it would have been better if that damn car would have killed me, or better yet, Angelica running me over. That would be a better story for the media.”

Ryan scowled at me. “Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“Marie, please tell the nurse I’m ready to leave and get me out of here… please?” I pleaded.

I was rolled via wheelchair to the loading docks where food and supplies get delivered to the hospital, all for the sake of avoiding the reporters and photographers who were hovering around the main entrance to the hospital. I was so glad to slide onto the leather back seat of the sedan and finally be on my way home; it made enduring the pain of getting my bruised body in the car worth it.

A crowd of reporters, photographers, and onlookers blocked the alleyway behind my pub. Our driver had to honk his horn to get people to move out of the way. My blood was starting to boil with anger and frustration. All of this attention for what - to take more photographs of Ryan cheating on his rekindled love, Lauren, with “the nobody” from Rhode Island?

And to top off my glorious day, there was Kyle, standing dutifully by my door with other security men to hold back the throng of photographers.

He took his sunglasses off and shoved them into his pocket when my car came to a stop.

Our stalker, Angelica, was still on the loose and yet there Kyle stood – willing to risk his own life to save mine.

His face was pained and I could tell just by the way he looked at me and held his arms out to his sides that he was telling me “I told you so.”

See this? All of this scrutiny… all of this incomprehensible, unwanted attention? More pictures to post with their web of lies? Haven’t you had enough yet, Taryn?

Kyle’s expression quickly changed when he glanced at Ryan. His contempt for Ryan was obvious and the eye daggers that flew between the two men were mutual. I didn’t know who hated whom more, but their hatred for each other was palpable.

“Come on Honey, I got you.” Ryan held my hand and elbow, helping me out of the car. It was difficult to stand up. My knee was very bruised and stiff and the pain from my ribs shot down into my hips.

“Ow!” I winced.

“I won’t let go,” Ryan muttered. He helped me take a step. “Do you want me to carry you?” he whispered.

“No,” I groaned and shuffled a few steps. I didn’t want the photographers to capture that he had to carry me and give them more reason to create new lies.