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“Ready,” Scarlett replies. Her hand squeezes mine.
I lean down and kiss her forehead, letting my lips linger. “I love you.”
Scarlett’s grip tightens. “I love you too.”
Then she lets go. The nurse wheels her bed away.
“As soon as there’s an update, someone will let you know,” she tells me on her way out.
All of a sudden, I’m standing in an empty hospital room, alone. My body feels heavy, my limbs disconnected. Breathing becomes difficult. I need out of this tiny room. I’d go outside if I weren’t terrified of missing an update.
I walk back into the waiting room in a daze. Asher stands when I appear. Honestly, I forgot he was here.
“Isabel went back to the office. What’s going on?” Asher asks. “That seemed sort of fast.”
Under any other circumstances, him pretending he knows anything about childbirth, specifically the length of time it takes, would be amusing. I’m too anxious to do anything but pace right now. Back and forth. This waiting room looks the same as the one in the cardiac wing. While waiting to hear if Hanson had made it, I didn’t experience any trepidation. His death wouldn’t make me lose any sleep.
Scarlett’s would shatter me. Just the hypothetical thought has my throat tightening and my eyes stinging. I feel like ants are crawling across my skin. Like my clothes are too hot and too tight. I try to take deep breaths, to pull in the air tinged with antiseptic.
“Crew, you’re freaking me the fuck out. What is going on?”
In. Out. In.I keep pacing. “She’s in surgery.”
“Surgery?” Asher’s eyes widen. “Is that…normal?”
“No, it’s not normal,” I bite out.
“Do you want me to…call anyone?”
“I don’t care.” The honest answer isI don’t know. Scarlett and I never discussed who we’d invite to the hospital or when we would. I figured I’d be with her, that we’d get to make these decisions together, after we had a healthy baby.
I keep pacing. I don’t know what time she went into surgery. How long a C-section takes. I’m totally unprepared, and the only thing that’s keeping me from totally losing it is the hope that any minute someone will come tell me they’re both fine.
I walk in circles until I start to feel dizzy. Then I sit. Bounce my knee. Spin my wedding ring in circles. Press my palms to my eyes and try to pretend I’m anywhere else.
Vaguely, I’m aware of activity around me. By callinganyone, Asher apparently meanteveryone. My father. Oliver. Josephine and Hanson—who is fully recovered from his health scare. Scarlett’s family huddles with mine, whispering. Probably about me. Wisely, none of them approach me.
An eternity passes before Dr. Summers appears. I stand as soon as I see him.
“Your wife is asking for you, Crew.”
Relief hits me so hard I feel like my knees are about to buckle. “She’s okay?” My voice cracks between theoand thekay.
Dr. Summers smiles and nods. “She’s okay. And you’ve got a healthy baby girl.”
A girl. I have a daughter. The thought feels foreign, even after months of knowing this was coming. “Can I see them?” My voice sounds like my throat is filled with rocks.
He nods. “Of course. Follow me.”
Dr. Summers leads me to a different room than before. Scarlett is lying down, with a blanketed bundle resting on her chest.
“I’ll give you a minute,” he says, then disappears.
Scarlett looks up as soon as I step inside the room. Her smile is wide and brilliant. “She has your eyes.”
I reach the bed and catch the first glimpse of my daughter’s face. She’s perfect. And Scarlett’s right. Her eyes are the same shade of blue as mine. The color I inherited frommymother.
“The first time I saw you, I thought you had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen,” she tells me.
