Page 82 of Fight from the Heart

Blue eyes meet mine.

“Hey, angel,” I softly greet her, more overwhelmed than even last night. The relief of her open eyes, staring back at mine, is almost too much, but I’m not looking away from her.

“What are you doing here?” she questions, wincing as she asks.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be, Lilac.” I squeeze her hand harder, fighting the emotion in my throat. Tears fill her eyes and spill from the corners, rolling to her hair. “Hey. Hey,” I whisper. “None of this.”

My fingers brush at her cheeks, and someone clears their throat. I turn to find her younger sister sitting in a chair at the end of the bed.

“I think I’ll give you guys a few minutes.” Her sister stands, and although she isn’t showing much, I recall Pam telling me she’s pregnant. The way she lifts herself from the chair is more telltale than the bump that shows once she’s upright. She repeats her mother’s words during the dark hours of the morning. “We’re all glad you’re here, Jacob.”

I’ve only met her once before, but her words do something to my insides. She gives her sister a long look before leaving the room, and I turn back to Pam, my eyes catching on the monitors. When I first arrived, I hadn’t noticed the machines and wires as I did while drifting off to sleep. Between the soft bleeps and jagged digital bumps, I’d drifted off, but I remember wondering why Pam had two machines hooked to her, like two heart monitors. Dismissing the thought, I glance down at her.

“How are you?” I want to wrap my arms around her and take care of her, but I don’t want to mess with these machines.

“We need to talk.” Her serious tone frightens me, and I try to tease when I say, “Don’t you dare leave me.” It’s what she said to me when she pulled me from the wreckage of my crash all those years ago, but I also mean it on a deeper level. I don’t want her to leave me.

“Jacob.” She chokes, and I reach for a Styrofoam cup with a straw, holding it up for her. She licks her lips but shakes her head. “This is important.”

“Lilac, whatever it is, can wait.” My voice grows stern.

Thankfully, a nurse immediately enters, and I consider her a reprieve from the inevitable. Pam is about to break up with me before we even have a start. The nurse’s expression is cheerful as if she isn’t interrupting anything, isn’t preventing me from getting my heart ripped out because that’s all I can think about with Pam’s words.

We need to talk.

The nurse speaks instead. “Time to check your vitals and the baby’s.”

My neck cranes, attention turning toward the nurse, when my sight catches on the monitors. Everything else moves in slow motion. The nurse checking the machines. A thermometer over Pam’s forehead. The fear in Pam’s eyes.

“Excuse me. What did you say?” I question the nurse as sound rushes back into my ears, filling them with the monitor's beeping. The click of the thermometer. The tap of her plastic clogs on the tile.

“The baby? Are you the daddy?” Her eyes lower for my hand holding Pam’s. Her smile is hopeful as she tucks Pam’s blankets around her.

I turn back to Pam.

“What is she saying?” I glare down at her bruised eyes, struggling.

“I’m pregnant.” The announcement is hardly a whisper.

After dropping her fingers, I raise both hands to the back of my head and pace a small circle next to the bed before facing Pam again.

“You’re what?” I snap, unable to contain the emotion rippling through my body. How could this be? My heart actually caves within my chest. I know we were apart for six weeks but still, this hurts. This hurts so much. “Who?”

The demand startles her, and tears start to fall in earnest.

“Maybe now’s not the time for this,” the nurse says, a witness to my heartbreak.

“It’s yours,” Pam whispers, and I stare at her. My heart slowly restoring.

“How?” I ask louder, still in a state of shock. Her liquid-filled, swollen eyes stare back at me as more tears fall. Typical to my Lilac, she gives me an incredulous look like she can’t believe she’d have to explain the process of reproduction to me. I don’t need her explanation.

“I’m always covered,” I remind her. “I keep it wrapped up tight, and you’re on the pill.”

“Are you okay?” the nurse asks Pam, eyes wandering to one of the monitors. “Do you want him to leave?”

I’m not going fucking anywhere.

“Could you give us a minute,” I command, my voice brooks no argument. I want her out of here. In the background, the monitors are rising in tempo. Ignoring me, the nurse continues to watch Pam. Clearly, she’s not leaving the room either.