The One- Chapter Ten
Archive of Our Own & Wattpad
cw: angst, anger, pregnancy complications, and medical discussions.
a/n: If you've read enough of my stories, you'll know I love a random crossover. This has no relevance to the show CSI:NY, but the reader's mom is Jo Danville from that show. Sela Ward, one of my first crushes.
Mother
Robbie tries to kiss you before he leaves for work, but you roll over so your back is to him. He thinks you’re asleep, but you've been awake all night. Once the sex spell had worn off, and you were no longer hypnotised by his dick, dicknotised, if you will, the words ‘you can be such a bitch’ replay through your mind. Over and over again.
Had he always felt this way? Did your husband secretly hate you and could only mention it when he was angry? Was he going through a midlife crisis? It would certainly explain the need to suddenly have back-to-back babies and ride a motorcycle. But did he really think you were a bitch?
The longer you thought about it, the more upset you got. You didn’t sleep all night, worrying about his feelings, about whether it would get brought up again. And then there was the pregnancy. As a doctor, you knew there was possibly something concerning going on, but you were already spiralling about your marriage; you didn’t need to spiral about this, too.
But an hour after Michael left for work, your phone buzzed with a message confirming an appointment for the afternoon to go through your test results. You knew this meant bad news. If everything were fine, they’d tell you on the phone.
You confirmed the appointment, cried into your pillow a little, and texted your best friend.
You: Are you working today? Dana: Well, good morning to you too! Actually, I’ve got the day off! You: Do you have plans? Dana: I have a book and a huge pile of laundry I’m avoiding. Why? You wanna hang out with your old friend? You: I have an appointment to go over my test results. I’m not speaking to Michael, but I can’t go alone. Dana: Say no more, baby girl. I’ll be there. Text me the time. You: What would I do without you? Dana: Not sure, but let me know if I need to beat Robby up!! 🔪🩸Actually, I’ll come over early, and we can get a coffee first. See you later ♥️☕️ You: thanks, D 💞
Margo wakes, and you feed, bathe and dress her before grabbing something to eat quickly for yourself. You barely even realise the time until Dana is letting herself into the apartment with her spare key.
“Hey, there they are,” she grins. “My favourite girls.”
“I’d like to hear you say that in front of your daughters,” you smirk. “Hey, can you hold her while I get dressed? I didn’t realise what the time was.”
“Sure,” Dana grins, taking her god-daughter from you. “Wanna talk bout what's goin’ on with you and Robinavitch?”
You sigh. Dana follows you into your bedroom and sits on the bed while you get dressed. She’s seen you naked before. Hell, she’s seen you give birth. You feel comfortable enough to change in front of her. You’re two grown women after all. And you know she’s seen far worse in the hospital than your naked body.
“He called me a bitch,” you say as you put on your bra, facing Dana. “He said he didn’t tell me about the motorbike because of how much of a bitch I can be about things. And then he apologised, and we had mind-blowing sex, and now he thinks everything is okay.”
Dana scoffs, because she thinks with woman logic. “Men are fucking idiots. He thinks his dick fixed everything, right?”
“I didn’t sleep at all last night, Dana. I kept thinking about it over and over again. About how long he’s felt this way and whether he always thinks I’m a bitch. I’ve given that man everything, Dana. I may have to give up my career for him if he keeps knocking me up like this. And what do I get? A thank you? No, I get called a fucking bitch.”
“Honey,” Dana says, reaching for your hand. “You don’t owe him shit, okay? If he wants to act like a man baby, let him. But don’t let it bring you down in the process. You know you’re better than him.”
“Am I?” you ask, hands on your hips. “Feels like I’m only good for one thing these days, and look where that's got me.”
“Speakin’ of,” Dana says, checking her watch. “We should leave soon.”
“Right,” you say, tossing your PJ pants aside and grabbing some clean underwear. “I’m actually really worried about this, D. And Michael doesn’t seem to even care that something might be wrong.”
“Hon,” Dana says gently. “Take a deep breath for me. We’ll deal with that idiot later, okay? Right now, you need to stay calm. For these babies,” she says, kissing Margo’s head. And you smile, your hand moving to your belly as you watch your daughter snuggle into Dana.
“Okay,” you agree, pulling up your pants. “I really appreciate you coming with me.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” she smiles. “You know you can always count on me.”
You take your car, but Dana drives. Your mind continues to race as you make your way to the hospital, and you’re so thankful for Dana’s company, especially when Margo starts to whine in the OB waiting room.
“Hey,” Addison smiles when she sees you and Dana. “My favourite ED girls. Come on through.”
Dana bounces Margo with one arm and holds your hand, sensing you need grounding, and you smile appreciatively at her as she drags you into Addy’s office. “Take a seat,” Addison smiles, and it’s so formal that it makes you feel sick.
“Addy,” you start, and she reaches for your hand.
“As your friend, there is no easy way for me to say this,” she begins, and your heart sinks. Dana’s hand moves to your back, and she rubs in circles. “You know what a molar pregnancy is, right?”
“I-uh- I think so,” you stutter. “It’s been a while since I did my OB rotation,” you mumble.
“Well, a molar pregnancy is where a non-viable fertilised egg implants in the uterus and causes an atypical growth of trophoblast cells to form on the placenta,” she explains. “There are two types, and you are experiencing a partial molar pregnancy, which means that part of a fetus has formed, but unfortunately it can’t survive. I’m so sorry.”
“So there’s no baby?” you ask tearfully.
Addison bites her lip and shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she says again, squeezing your hand. “We need to do a D&C right away before it progresses further. Left untreated and allowed to grow on its own can lead to cancer, so we want to deal with this straight away.”
Your mind goes fuzzy, and you think about Robby and how excited he was. You think about all the things he said to you in anger, and the tears roll down your face. Maybe he was right; maybe you were a bitch, and this was your punishment.
“I’ll call Michael,” Dana says gently.
“No,” you sniffle. “Why bother? This will just be another thing for him to be mad at me over,” you say quietly, and Dana looks at Addison.
“Sweetheart,” Addy says gently. “Call your husband. You’re going to want him here for this, I promise you. And he’s going to need to hear what I have to say about your aftercare,” she insists. “Please?”
“Okay,” you sniffle. “I’ll call him.”
You get up, your hand on your soft belly, and you pull your phone out as you exit the room. You stand in the empty hallway and dial his number, hoping he answers when you need him this time. And he does. The sound of his voice and the simple “hey” makes you sob, and you can hear how worried he is when he hears you cry.
“I need… I need…” you sob. “Addison’s office,” is all you can say, and you hope he understands. “Come.”
“I’m on my way,” he tells you, and you can hear the panic and the urgency in his voice. He’s up that elevator in no time, and when he sees you slumped against the wall sobbing, he bends down to pull you into his arms.
“Honey, what's going on?” he asks worriedly, his hands on your face and in your hair. “How long have you been here?” All you can do is sob. You clutch his jacket, and you sob. Addison comes out into the hallway, and she helps Michael stand you up.
“Come inside,” she says gently. “We should talk in here.”
The procedure hurts. They suction out the placenta and what's left of the fetus, and you just lie there, staring at the wall. Michael holds your hand, but you don’t reciprocate his touch. Your hand is basically just limp in his. Addison tells you both what not to do for the next six weeks, and you don’t hear a word of it; all you do is stare at the poster on the wall of a woman’s belly and think about how it was going to be you again, but now that’s gone. And now your risk of more complications in the future is higher, and you can’t quite help but be mad at Robby for this.
Sure, it takes two to make a baby. But every time something was bothering him, and you tried to talk, you ended up fucking instead. So really, if Robby could handle his emotions like a grown-ass man, this might not have happened.
“Michael, I need you to promise me that you’ll be careful,” Addison says. “You need to wait at least 6, maybe even 12 months before trying again. The risks are too high now.”
“I will,” he says. “I will be careful; I won’t touch her.”
“You’re right,” you say. “Because I’m going to stay with my Mom for a while. And I’d prefer it if you didn’t follow.”
“Baby, can we talk about this?” Michael asks as you walk into your apartment. Dana is following with Margo in her arms, and Michael doesn’t seem to care that she is witnessing this.
“Talk about what?” you ask as you grab the suitcases out of the spare room. “I’ve given you so many chances, and you keep throwing them back in my face,” you cry.
“Take it easy, hon,” Dana says gently.
“This is the final straw for me, Robby. I’m done.”
“You’re so frustrating!” he exclaims angrily, pulling his hair. “You’re being irrational.”
“Right, cos I’m an irrational bitch,” you say sadly. “Got it. It’s nice to know where I stand.” You sniffle as you pack your bags before heading to the nursery to pack up as much as you can for Margo.
“You can’t fly right now,” he says.
“I don’t care,” you shout. “I’m leaving, Michael. You’ve had so many chances! Remember the first time we got pregnant, and you told me you’d do better? Well, I’m still waiting.”
“This is ridiculous,” he says. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I know,” you shrug. “But I don’t care anymore. Say goodbye to your daughter.”
“You’re not taking her from me,” he says.
“Say goodbye, Michael,” you say firmly, and he grabs a vase from the bookshelf and throws it at the wall, sending glass flying everywhere.
“Hey!” Dana shouts, finally getting involved. “Stop actin’ like a fuckin’ baby and say goodbye to your child, Robinavitch, before you regret it!”
He cries, and your heart twangs as you watch him take Margo into his arms. He’s not a bad man; he’s not even a bad father, but he’s a terrible husband, and you just need some time. “I’m not going to keep her from you,” you tell him. “I’m not a complete bitch. I just need some time, that’s all.”
He nods, kissing Margo’s head and whispering something to her. And then he walks over and kisses the top of your head as he hands her back. “I’m sorry,” he says before storming out of the apartment and leaving you a sobbing mess.
Several hours later, you are standing on a random sidewalk in New York City, Margo in a carrier on your front and your suitcases by your side as you wait for your mom to come get you. Your mom, whom you barely talk to since you moved away from home, and she moved to New York to become a crime scene investigator. Your mom, who was once your best friend in the entire world, and is about to meet your daughter for the first time. Your mom, who told you not to marry Michael Robinavitch, but you did it anyway.
“Well, hey, stranger,” her familiar southern accent says from behind you, and you turn around. Your face is red and blotchy from all the crying, but she looks as radiant as ever, with her dark curly hair and leather jacket. “Oh, darlin’,” she says. “You’re okay; Mama’s here.” And your body relaxes as she steps closer, and you collapse into the arms of Josephine Danville, your mother, sobbing loudly against her chest.
