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“See? She’s fine,” I tell her. Mila smiles.
“She looks so much like Maddy.”
I agree with that.
“I want this one to look like you,” she adds. I shake my head.
“No way. Don’t do that to the poor kid. It needs to look like you.”
“You’re beautiful and you know it,” she argues. I tug her into the bedroom, and pull her shirt off.
“Let’s get you into pajamas,” I tell her. “Your favorite ones.”
“Quit spoiling me. I’m fine.”
I fold the blankets back, and she climbs in.
I get in beside her, pulling her close. Even after being at the hospital, she smells like sunshine.
“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you,” I tell her honestly.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide and clear. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not for a long, long time.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you called,” I tell her. “It won’t happen again.”
“Babe, it’s ok,” she says and she closes her eyes, resting in my arms. “It’s ok. Truly.”
She’s had a long day, and she sleeps soon.
But not me.
I lie awake, worrying about what could’ve happened. If she’d lost the baby, it would’ve crushed her.
My knee is throbbing, and I try to rub at it without disturbing Mila, but it isn’t going to happen. The longer I lay in one spot, the more it seems to hurt. And when it hurts, it permeates every corner of my body. It doesn’t stay in my leg.
I lie still for as long as I can take it, then I finally wiggle out of Mila’s arms, and finagle my way to my feet. My knee threatens to give out again, but I steady myself, then limp down the hall to my study.
I stop only once, to poke my head inside Zu’s bedroom. Her blond head rests peacefully on her pillow, her hand curled under her chin.
I continue on my way, and stop just inside the door, pouring myself a drink. I pour a second one, and take it with me across the room.
Grimacing, I sit at my desk, and prop my leg up as best I can.
I let my head fall back, and I close my eyes, and Fuck, it hurts like a summabitch, as Gabe would say.
Mind over matter, I tell myself. Mind over matter.
But pain is a demanding mistress, and it refuses to be ignored.
“Again?” Natasha’s voice fills the room, and I open my eyes.
She’s concerned, in her robe again, and I nod.
“Yeah.”
“You know, I was thinking. I have some muscle relaxers that my doctor gave me for my back. Do you want to try them? Maybe they could help.”
She’s hesitant, but she wants to help, and it’s nice of her.
