Page 107 of Promise

As I stare down at him with tubes and tape stuck to him, my heart breaks even more than it used to for the innocent babies I’ve cared for in the past. I picture Mirabelle. Wires and medical tape all over her little body. Under LED blue lights, to break down bilirubin. A ‘bili’ blanket beneath her. Halogen spotlights. Her little eyes taped shut for protection.

My stomach pitches a little bit imagining her so tiny. So fragile. And yet a fighter. A survivor.

When I get buzzed that someone is waiting for me outside the NICU doors, I don’t even second-guess who it could be. I exit the unit to find Dart standing there with Mirabelle sleeping in her car seat.

“What are you doing here?” I laugh, relief in the sound at the sight of them. “Is everything okay?” I glance at Mirabelle again, my thoughts from only moments ago still lingering in my head.

Then I glance at Dart. He looks good in his jeans and a tee with a car logo on the front.

I try not to think about the dream I had last night.

“We’re all good. I just thought I’d bring you lunch.” He holds up a brown paper sack.

I typically just grab something from the cafeteria, and I hadn’t even thought about a noontime meal this morning when I left, too emotional about leaving them.

“I forgot all about lunch.” I twist my arm, glancing at my watch, noticing he’s right on time for my break.

“Well, let’s share this one.” He nods toward the sack.

“You okay?” I ask, squatting down to adjust Mirabelle’s head, hoping not to wake her, but still wanting to touch her soft skin. A subtle reminder that she’s my little fighter.

“I think Mirabelle misses you.” He scratches the back of his neck.

I stand and smile. “Rough morning?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. She’s an angel.”

I continue to stare at him, wondering what he’s doing here. I mean, I’m excited to see him, but he looks a little . . . vulnerable.

“Okay, I might have missed you, too.” He sheepishly glances at me and slips his hands into his jeans pockets.

I tuck my arm into his, leaning against him. “I miss you guys, too.”

“You kind of scared me last night.”

I raise my brows, as if I don’t know what he means.

“That dream,” he says, untwining my arm from his so he can wrap his arm around me and pull me into his side, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You were really scared.”

I was scared. Afraid of what it might mean. Was it a premonition? Or was it just stress about returning to work? Did it reveal deep fears that I try not to consider but still linger inside me?

I didn’t know.

“I’m sorry about that.” Like I can control what my mind does during the night. I pull back so I can look him in the eyes.

“Just want to reassure you that I’m still here.” His whiskey eyes are dark when he’s serious, concerned about something.

“I know, baby,” I say, cupping his cheek.

“Guess we should go eat. I know you only have thirty minutes.”

The not-so-glamorous life of a nurse. Lunch on the fly.

He glances down at Mirabelle. “I can’t take you out to my truck and make out with you, can I?”

I laugh, reminded again of our second kiss. The one where he made an excuse to see me.

“Probably not a good idea.” I pat his chest. “But you can still kiss me.”