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Thank you! Thank you, thank you fucking thank you!
I can't express enough (or at all) how much this means to me. It was the next best thing to waking up. Every movie he would have ou
t on this thing I'd know by heart anyway and in my mind the footage of Pretty Woman begins to roll.
My movie is interrupted when Cass and Tom leave. They both kiss me goodbye and exit the room. I can faintly hear them talking outside, but because of the noise from the headphones, I can't make anything out.
Suddenly I feel the headphones slide off as lips brush past my mouth.
Simon.
“Hey baby.” he says, his voice strained as he reaches for my hand. He’s been crying. “The doctors told me they think you're strong enough for the surgery now, so they're going to take you down and fix you. I've made them promise to bring you back to me,” his voice breaks. God this must be so hard for him.
“I had to give bean a name. I hope you're going to like it,” he adds.
I silently groan. He named her? If there was one thing we hadn’t agreed on during the course of this pregnancy it was what to name the baby, so I dread hearing what he's come up with.
“I named her Mirabella,” he says and I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “In French it means 'Incredible beauty'. When you see her, you'll understand that it’s exactly what she is.”
Mirabella. I like it. I like it a lot.
More than anything that's what I want, to see our little baby and for the first time, I pray to a god that I’m not even sure exists.
Please get me through this.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Simon
Standing outside the surgery, I watched anxiously as they wheeled her into the room. The doctor had talked me through the procedure. A small catheter would be passed through her groin and guided into the blood vessels and up to the clot in the brain where a small balloon will be inflated to ‘catch’ the clot.
The operation itself would not take long, all going according to plan, but it could take weeks to see if the clot or the operation has had any long term effects on Em. Things not going according to plan was something I didn’t want to think about, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind. There was such a high risk of something going wrong because of the location of the clot and the earlier bleed.
I threw some change into the vending machine that sat opposite me. After staring at it for the last half hour, I decided I needed a coke and a chocolate. Who said passive advertising didn’t work?
The Hershey bar had no taste and neither did the coke. I could’ve been eating cardboard and drinking shampoo and it would’ve tasted the same. Still, I knew I needed to eat, otherwise I’d end up in no condition to care for Em and the baby.
The waiting bay had an array of magazines the most recent being from two years ago. I picked it up, a copy of New Today and flicked through it, not actually taking anything in. It just gave me something to do. Reaching the end, I tossed it aside and stood up.
The operating rooms were on the fourth floor and the waiting area was down the end of the hallway. From my seat I had a perfect view of the entry doors. Every person that exited those doors I stared at with my heart in my throat until they passed me. Only then could I breathe again.
What were they up to now? Had the operation even started yet? God I hoped things went well. I glanced around the room to survey the other people waiting, just like me. To my left, an older woman sat clutching a sweater. Just down from her was a man about my own age. Over the other side a couple sat, the woman entwined in the man’s arms. Every now and then he would lean down and kiss her head tenderly. I used to do that to Em all the time.
My mind raced back to every kiss we’d shared, every moment we’d spent together and to all the times I found myself amazed by this wonderful, loving woman.
Get a grip, Simon, be strong, be a man for fucks sake. I swatted at my eyes, stopping the tears before they trickled down my cheeks.
Think about your beautiful girls. Think about how badly they need you to be strong right now.
The doors opened and a figure began the trek down the hall toward the waiting room. My heart thumped as he neared, his expression grim. As he entered the area, he took his hat off, walking toward the couple huddled in the corner. I turned my attention away from them, not wanting to invade privacy of this moment, but I couldn’t ignore the woman’s screams as she collapsed into the arms her companion.
“Mr. Anderson?”
I jumped. I literally shat myself (well, not literally). I had been so focused on not paying attention to the couple, that I hadn’t noticed another doctor had approached me. I stood up, my heart racing.
“Yes? Is she okay?”
“The operation went well. She’s in recovery now,” he smiled, as I fell back down into the seat and sighed with relief. The woman opposite me was sobbing loudly and though I felt for her, I couldn’t stop the happiness that was coursing through my body.
