AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I showered myself,” I grinned, laughing as he chuckled at me. “What? It’s a big deal.” I protested at his amusement.
“It is, that’s great. I’m proud of you,” he smiled, “you’ve no idea how good it is to see you smiling,” he said, sinking into the seat next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel pretty good considering my head was cut open,” I smiled, letting his lips touch mine again.
“You’ve no idea how much I missed doing that,” he grinned.
“Hey,” I said, remembering the scar across my stomach, “what’s this from?” I lifted my gown to reveal the raised, red scar.
“Uh, not sure,” he shrugged unconvincingly, avoiding my eyes.
“Right,” I said slowly, “I have a fairly recent scar on my stomach that you know nothing about? Yet you seem to know everything there is to know about all my other injuries.”
Simon flushed. Ah, I had him. He hesitated, as if he were weighing up the benefit of telling me the truth. The fact that I’d caught him on his lie and he still needed to weigh up the benefits of telling me worried me.
What had happened? Had I been shot?
“Okay, you not telling me is making things worse, Simon. If you know something, please tell me.” My voice was rising, as a familiar sick feeling began to fill my stomach. The last few days, my anxiety had been pretty good, thanks to the heavy pain management I was on.
“Okay, Em. Shit, calm down,” he said, putting his hands up. He stood up and leaned against the bed, then stood straight, running a hand through his hair.
“Simon!” I yelled, determined to get some answers.
“You had a baby!” he bellowed, his tone matching mine.
“Huh?” I said as he winced.
What the fuck was he on about? Was this a joke? My hands shot to my stomach protectively, as I waited for him to explain.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he murmured, apologizing. “The doctors thought it would be best for you to remember on your own. I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“What do you mean I had a baby? Is it…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t want to say it, I didn’t want to ask if the baby was alive.
“She’s perfect Em. We found out you were pregnant after Moosly was killed. The pregnancy was a huge risk, but you wouldn’t…There was never any other option for you but to continue with it,” he said. I struggled to absorb what he was telling me. It couldn’t possibly be true, could it? Me, a mom?
“You said right after Moosly, that would only make her about seven months?” I said suddenly. Simon nodded.
“Nearly eight months now. She was premature, but she’s such a little fighter. She had breathing problems, but that’s all good now. I’m taking her home tomorrow Em,” he added.
“She’s here now?” I asked. Why wasn’t she in here with me? “I want to see her.” I demanded.
“Let me speak to the nurse,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek before exiting the room.
Wow.
Holy crap.
I had a baby? Simon and I had a daughter. All those years trying to convince myself I was fine with not being able to have kids and now I have a little girl. It all felt so surreal, like it was happening to someone else.
Had the pregnancy caused the hemorrhage? The doctor had said that it was caused by a blood clot that had developed in scar tissue, so it likely was related to my injuries. This was crazy. And everyone who had been in, nobody had let on to any of this, not even Cass, who couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.
Reaching for my buzzer, I pressed it. I wanted to speak to the doctor. No more stepping around me on eggshells as though I was going to break. I wanted answers and I wanted them now.
“Are you okay?” a friendly looking nurse with red hair and freckles smiled at me.
“I’d like to speak to my doctor. Now. Apparently I have a baby and I’m really keen to learn what else has been kept from me,” I snapped, frustrated at myself and everyone. Her smile faltered at my tone. She nodded, her eyes lowered and left. I felt bad, it wasn’t her fault things had been kept from me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on her.
It felt like ages since Simon had left and I was beginning to wonder, if he was coming back at all when the doctor came in. To say he looked concerned would have to be the understatement of the year.
