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Even if it means walking away from them for good and letting Isabella have her own life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Isabella
It feels like my body is on fire. Like someone is holding a match to my skin and keeps waving it around.
My head is swimming, and my tongue feels heavy as I groan. Then I try to lift one hand to my forehead, but it’s held back. With a frown, I try the other hand, but it takes me a few tries to get it moving. In the background, there’s a loud cacophony of voices, all of them clamoring to be heard over the other.
I drop my hand to cup my stomach, but it feels lighter. Flatter.
Gasping, I shoot up in bed, my body drenched in sweat and my heart hammering uneasily inside of my chest. I lick my dry lips, glance down at my stomach, and frown at the lack of a bump there. When I look back up, I see Sam sprawled on a chair by my bed, her mouth half open.
Everything around me is unfamiliar.
I blink, and the hospital room swims into focus, revealing whitewashed walls, a monitor on one side of the bed, and a connecting door leading to a tile-floored bathroom. Gingerly, I push myself up, and my tongue darts out to lick my dry lips again. When I swallow, it feels like something hard and heavy is lodged in my throat.
My breath hitches in my throat as I try to remove the IV.
The monitor I’m hooked up to starts beeping loudly, and it startles Sam awake. She looks confused at first, then when she sees me propped up, she leaps to her feet. Glancing over her shoulder, she calls out in a hoarse voice. A moment later, a nurse in pink scrubs comes in and helps to calm me down.
I suck in a harsh breath and slump against the mattress. “What happened? Where’s my baby?”
Sam hovers over the nurse, her eyebrows drawn together. “What do you remember?”
“We were in the house. We were waiting for Carter and Tristan.” I bring my free hand up and run it over my face. “Sam, where’s my baby?”
“You need to take it easy, honey.” The nurse frows and wags a finger at me. “You’ve been through a major surgery, and all this stress and getting worked up isn’t going to help anyone.”
“Surgery?” My stomach dips. I try to push myself up further, but the nurse won’t let me. “Why won’t anyone tell me what’s wrong? I want my baby.”
“She’s in an incubator,” Sam replies after exchanging a quick look with the nurse. “They had to take her out because you were going into distress, and they couldn’t get your blood pressure back up.”
I struggle against the nurse’s firm grip. “What do you mean she’s in an incubator?”
Next to me, the monitor starts going crazy again, but I don’t care.
I can’t be lying in a hospital bed while my baby is in the hospital somewhere, fighting for her life. She needs me, and I have to see her. I need to know she’s okay.
“Go into the hallway and call for a doctor. She’s going into distress again,” the nurse tells Sam with a frown. “I told you to wait to give her the news. It’s too much for her all at once.”
I squirm and try to get up, but the nurse is a lot stronger than I gave her credit for.
When an older-looking doctor with broad shoulders and salt and pepper in his hair comes in, he doesn’t look pleased. Wordlessly, he crosses over to me, a concerned look on his face. He murmurs something to the nurse, and she turns to the medical cart by the end of the bed. She comes back with a syringe in her hand. The nurse lifts my arm up. A heartbeat later, the sharp end sinks into my skin, and I hold myself completely still. Slowly, the nurse releases me, and I sink back against the mattress.
“What did you give me?”
“I’m going to look into having your daughter brought down,” Dr. Mullins says without looking at me. He pats Sam’s shoulders on the way past. As soon as he’s gone, the nurse launches into action, fluffing up my pillow and bringing out another blanket for me. After shooting me a sympathetic smile, she exits the room, and the door clicks shut behind her.
I feel like I’m floating on a cloud, but I don’t like it. I have no idea what they gave me or why I ended up in the hospital.
All I know is that Sam has dark circles under her eyes and looks like she’s had a rough few days, and I don’t know why.
“You’ve been in a medically induced coma for a few days. When your blood pressure dropped, the doctor realized you had an infection, and you had to go in for surgery,” Sam explains in a low voice. “Carter fought with them to get them to move you to a private room, and a few hours ago, the doctor came in to take you off the breathing tube. He wanted to see if you could breathe on your own. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
I swallow. “What about… how did… the surgery go?”
“I don’t know what happened while you were in there, but they had to take the baby out.”
