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FORTY
Laia
“I need to see Felix,” I plead to the doctor examining me.
“Felix can wait. We need to make sure nothing’s broken.” His warm hand urges my arm up. “You’ve got a nasty bruise right here.” Eyebrows pinched together, he presses his fingers against my tender ribs moving up them one by one.
I wince when his fingers press the side of my breast.
“That hurts?” The old doctor asks, his frown creating more lines in his already wrinkled brow.
I’m fine. “They’re not broken.” I’ve had broken ribs before. His features soften, and I focus on the patch of black by his temple in his otherwise completely gray hair, ignoring his pity.
“Please, can I go find him now?”
“How long have your breasts been tender?” His voice calm, he urges me to lie back on the trolley.
“I don’t know.” I shift up the paper-covered bed and try to breathe through a fresh wave of nausea. “I need to go.”
“I’m just going to examine your abdomen, they mentioned cramping when you were brought in. Let me know if you feel any discomfort.”
I close my eyes so he can’t see me rolling them then sink my head back into the pillow and glare at the plasterboard ceiling. He’s just doing his job. “The nurse already took a urine sample. No blood. No internal bleeding, right? The pain from before hasn’t come back. I think I’m fine.”
“Let’s wait on the results.”
I lift my head. That was a non-answer if I ever heard one.
The doctor just averts his gaze and presses his lips together, prodding my abdomen. “Any nausea?”
I scowl at the knowing look that crosses his face when I nod.
“I’ve been stressed. I get sick when I’m stressed.”
“When was your last—”
“Enough. Please. I’m fine. I feel fine. I’m going to find Felix.”
“I’ll get a nurse to take you to him.” Still frowning, he turns for the door. I pull my tank down and watch his white-coated back leave the sterile examination room.
This is the first time I’ve been alone since my house. It’s all a bit of a blur. Dream-like. Surreal.
My brain tries to piece it all together—tries to patch the fuzziness into one coherent memory.
I know that Jackson was there. I know that Mylo showed up seconds after him. I know that I crumpled the second Felix came near me. I know that Damon was taken away in a patrol car. And I know that Felix held my hand all the way to the hospital, even when they were fussing over the deep gash in his head.
Then, we were separated to be checked out.
Five long minutes later, a tiny, bird-like nurse rolls a wheelchair into the room.
“Laia?” She doesn’t even flinch at the mess I must be in. She just crosses the small room and goes to help me from the bed.
“I’m okay to walk.” I get to my feet by myself. “No need for the chair.”
“Hospital regulations I’m afraid.” She shrugs a petite shoulder and turns the wheelchair, gesturing for me to sit.
“Have you seen Felix? Is he okay?” I lower myself into the chair.
“I haven’t.” She backs me away from the bed, then turns the chair with the practiced ease of a professional. “Let’s get you to him.”
I chew on my lip and stare at my hands. There’s blood under my nails. Mine, or Felix’s, or Damon’s. I’ve no idea. I twist them into fists, blink away the stinging in my eyes and focus on the white tiled floor of the corridor passing beneath my feet and the rhythmic thud of the wheels over the ridges between them.
“This is you.” The nurse's soft voice drags me from my brain-fogged daze.
I pull myself from the chair, but before I can push through the door, it’s opened from the other side, and I’m face to face with a middle-aged nurse.
“You must be Laia.” A wide smile lights her round face. “He’s been desperate to see you.” She tucks a loose black curl behind her ear and glances back over her shoulder. “We’ve had our hands full trying to keep him still long enough to patch him up.”
I nod dumbly, my gaze fixed past her on where Felix has stopped what he’s saying to Jackson, his attention on me.
I stand by the open door, whatever adrenaline I’ve been running on since getting here officially running out.
“Laia?” Felix’s voice cracks, his gaze flitting over my face, his brows tipping up in the middle at the mess I know he sees there. My lip is split, and the side of my face has already come up in deep, purple bruising.
His look of helplessness and worry and guilt is apparently all it takes to officially break me. My face crumples and hot, fat tears roll down my cheeks.
He’s off the bed and pulling me into the room, cupping my face, carefully wiping my tears with his thumbs, and sitting me down on his bed.
“It’s okay, Laia.” He lowers himself down beside me and kisses my wet cheeks. “We’re okay. It’s over.”
I touch the freshly stitched gash on his forehead and suck in a breath. “I shouldn’t have run. I was coming back. I’d changed my mind. I was coming back.”
Felix swallows thickly, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze fixed on my face. “I know, baby. I know you were.”
Jackson clears his throat from beside us. I pull back to look at him. “What’s going to happen to Damon?”
“He’s been charged. He’ll be transported off the island by tonight. Don’t worry, Laia, he’s going away for this.” Jackson nods once, his gaze shifting over my messed-up face too. He’s too professional to wince, but I know he wants to.
“I should’ve killed the bastard when I had the chance.” Felix wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side.
“Then it’d be you going to jail, Felix.” Jackson scowls at him, dragging his hand over his mouth. “You sure left your mark, though,” he chuckles darkly, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flatter nose.” He winks at me, then nods to Felix. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Excuse me. May I?” The doctor that checked me over earlier steps into the room just as Jackson leaves it.
“Of course, come in.” I wet my lips, twisting my hands in front of me.
“Miss Cavana, I’d prefer if we could talk in private.”
I look from Felix to the doctor. “Why? Is there something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” The doctor’s stare shifts between me and Felix again. “If you’d just come with me…”
“Did the tests show internal bleeding?” My hands drop to my abdomen. “I’m not in any pain, though.”
“Miss Cavana if you could—”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I grab Felix’s hand, my fingers twisting with his. “Whatever it is you can—”
“—You’re pregnant.”
“I’m what?” All of the blood left in my face leaves it in a rush.
Felix goes completely still beside me, but I can’t seem to force my eyes to move from the doctor.
“You’re pregnant.” The doctor nods and hands me the paper with the results of the pregnancy test. “It’s positive.”
“Like, with a baby?” I stare stupidly at the paper. With a baby. I’m pregnant … with a baby.
“I should hope so.” A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll get you in for a scan now so we can see how far along you are and make sure everything’s okay.”
Felix’s big hand covers my shaking one with his own and I finally manage to turn my stupefied gaze to him. I’m pregnant. With a baby. With his baby.
“Laia?” He scans the paper and then my face, his brows pinched up in the middle. “A baby.”
I nod, shake my head, and press my fingers to my mouth, unable to form a single word. Shock. This must be shock.
“Say something.”
I shake my head again.
Pregnant. With a baby. “I…” I puff air into my cheeks. “I should have known. How could I not have known?” I freeze and cover my tummy with my hands. “What if Damon … he hit me … what if it’s hurt?”
“Look at me, Laia,” Felix whispers softly, winding his fingers through mine. His eyes are shining, bluer than I’ve ever seen them, his jaw clenched, his nod jerky, but sure. “It’s gonna be okay. We can do this.”
Can we? Can I? A million thoughts fight for space in my exhausted mind. The idea of having a family of my own has never even crossed my mind.
A baby. Felix’s baby—our baby.
“We can do this, Laia,” he repeats, not an ounce of doubt in his voice.
Fresh tears roll down my cheeks, but I nod too. “I think we can.”
Felix
“I can’t see anything,” I mutter, squinting at the grainy black and white image on the screen by Laia’s head. If I didn’t have to stay in this fucking wheelchair, I’d be able to get closer.
“This, right here.” The sonographer points at a peanut-shaped blob in the middle of the screen. “Is your baby.” She looks between us, her eyebrows raised. “Can you see it?”
Emotions I’ve never felt before clamber up my throat. This morning I could have sworn I was on the edge of losing everything again. Now, I’m on the verge of having a life I never imagined possible.
Laia’s fingers tighten around my hand, and she nods, her eyes glued to the little monitor. She’s bruised and cut, but I’m not sure I’ve ever loved anything more. This is real. I blow out a long breath and squeeze back. This is really fucking real.
“Going by the measurements, you’re seven weeks.”
When Laia turns from the screen a smile is tickling the corners of her lips. First night. I got her pregnant on the first night. An answering grin splits my face, primal pride filling my chest. First fucking night. I’m not sure what caveman part of me is at work here, but I feel like I’ve just grown to ten fucking feet tall.
“Let’s see if we can see the heartbeat, shall we?” Brow creased in concentration, the sonographer rolls the wand across Laia’s abdomen. “Gotcha.” She pulls a pen from the white bun on the top of her head and uses it to point to a thrumming dot in the middle of the peanut-blob-baby. “Can you see the fluttering?”
Awe. Pride. And a whole lot of love. I stare stupidly at the flickering dot. Laia’s flickering dot. My flickering dot. Our flickering dot.
“Look what we made.” Laia’s voice breaks through my grinning, caveman stupor.
I’m going to be a dad.
