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Cupping his beautiful face within in my hands, I pierced his eyes with mine.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head to the floor.
“Trevor, look at me.”
When he lifted his head, I caught a breath. Tears rolled down his face, dampening his cheeks.
“This was not your fault. This was not my fault. This wasn’t Aurora’s fault. This is something that happened. Look at all those other families in the NICU. It happened to them, too. We’re not alone in this, and we need to remember that. Aurora is a fighter; you even said so yourself. We’re all going to be okay. All of us. What we need to focus on is that she’s with us, and we didn’t lose her and we’re not going to lose her.”
Trevor stood, pushed his hands through my hair, and pulled me to him gently. When his lips pressed against mine, I nearly melted into him.
The kiss was slow yet filled with passion. I wanted him, but I knew we still had six weeks to go before we were cleared for sex. Even though I wanted him, the thought of actually moving my body like that made me feel ill.
Trevor broke the kiss and leaned his forehead to mine.
“Come on, let’s get you in the shower and to bed.”
Aurora was five weeks old and we had gotten a plethora of beads. One for her bath. One for the first feeding. That had been stressful, especially when she was trying to learn to suck, swallow and breathe all at the same time. Aurora for sure earned that little pig bead.
We got one for her first clothes. It was a pink outfit with matching hat and socks. Her shirt said, “Parker Princess” and the hat had her name on it. I had asked Paxton to get it made the day Aurora was born. Scarlett and I couldn’t believe how fast she grew out of it. That was another thing she got beads for. Weight gain.
Today she was getting a bead for a preemie open crib. Scarlett had been waiting for this bead—as had I. Actually, the bead I most wanted to get was the butterfly. It meant our princess was coming home with us, where she belonged.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker,” Marge, who worked in the hospital cafeteria said. She wore a huge smile every single time I saw her.
“Is it afternoon, Marge? Feels like evening already.”
She chuckled. “Long day?”
I yawned and replied with a sleepy, “Sure has been.”
“How much longer will your little girl have to stay here?” she asked as she rang up two coffees.
“Hopefully not too much longer. She’s breathing on her own now and has been for a few days. We just need her body temperature to stay where it’s supposed to, and they said we’d start talking about bringing her home.”
She gave me a warm smile. “Well, you are a good father. Your wife is a good mother, too.”
I returned the smile with one of my own. I’d stopped correcting people about Scarlett and I not being married.
Lifting the coffees, I replied, “Thank you, Marge. Thanks for the coffee, too!”
“Any time, sweetie! Any time!”
With a long sigh, I leaned against the elevator wall as it brought me up to the fifth floor to the NICU. When the elevators opened, I saw Scarlett sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room. Making my way to her, I sat down and handed her a coffee.
“Here ya go. One black coffee, minus the shot of whiskey you asked for. I figured the nurses might frown upon us getting drunk.”
She laughed, but it was barely audible.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking her hand in mine.
“I’m tired, Trevor. I want to go home. I want to take our baby home. I’m sick of sleeping in a stranger’s bed when we do get a few quick hours of rest. I don’t want to ask to hold her, goddamn it. I want to be able to hold her whenever the hell I want. I’m tired of people asking me why my last name is not Parker. I’m sick of seeing other parents cry. I can’t keep tuning it all out. I want our family to all be able to hold Aurora and not stop to get badges and scrub in before seeing her. I want to have more than two people see her at once. I want this to all stop! All of it!”
A woman who was sitting in the waiting room looked over at us when Scarlett raised her voice.
“Baby, why don’t you head on back to the condo and…”
“No! Stop telling me to leave. You leave. Why don’t you just leave. Because none of this seems to be bothering you, Trevor. You just smile and keep going. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t!”
