Poppy cried out as a wave of pain shot through her. She glanced at the phone, her brows furrowed and the nurse spoke, but she was having a hard time concentrating. He's not coming, Poppy. It's okay. It's okay. He's not coming.
If she listened carefully, she would hear running down the hallway before Francis rushed in. "I'm here! I'm here! I made it!"
She looked up at him and the relief that crossed her face was profound. Her brows were furrowed and her face was paler than expected, and she reached a hand out to him, in too much pain to say much.
"What..." She groaned, but he would be able to detect a small bit of humor in her voice. "What took you so long?"
"Oh... no..." she said, laughing slightly but cutting short as a wave went through her. Wincing, she shook her head. "I was hoping he'd... babysit..."
"Francis, that's not..." She cried out, her free hand going to her side. It took her a few moments to talk again. "That's not good. He was your best man."
