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“I just need to get your signatures on the consent for treatment, and I’ll get out of your way,” the doctor said with a kind smile. “Miss Justice will be prepped while the rest of us are scrubbing in. Take a moment to be with her, and then she will be taken down to the OR.”
My eyes widened at the speed everything was moving. If I hadn’t gotten up earlier than planned, would I have missed this chance to kiss her before she went into surgery?
Garret’s name had been added to her birth certificate, so he signed first, and then the clipboard was offered to me. Almost blindly, I scribbled my name across the appropriate line, before shoving it back at Garret to give to the doctor. I was too busy moving closer to the incubator so I could take Justice out for one more skin-to-skin moment.
Unbuttoning my shirt, I lifted her to my chest and held her as I’d been taught with all the cords and tubes still connected to her tiny body. Blinking back my tears, I touched my trembling lips to her forehead. “You’re going to do great,” I whispered to her. “The doctors are going to take good care of you, sweet girl. Mommy and Daddy won’t be far, so don’t be scared.”
Garret came up beside me, his huge hand on her back practically swallowing her up. He rubbed his thumb over her arm, and he bent to brush his lips over her small cheek. “Daddy loves you, princess,” he told her, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t be afraid.”
Our gazes locked over her little head, the both of us fighting the tears that wanted to spill over, but we refused to let them in front of her. I nearly whimpered when I saw the love that was in his green eyes.
At that moment, I wanted to believe it, but I was almost more afraid of loving him back than I was of letting Justice go into surgery.
Garret
The moment the nurse took Justice from Lis, I knew I only had a matter of seconds to get her out of there before she lost it. The baby was placed back in the incubator, and Lis began to shake as she tried in vain to hold on to her emotions. Pulling her into me, I hid her face in my chest as I guided her out of the ward and down the corridor to the waiting room.
Immediately after the door shut behind us, a sob left her that was hauntingly similar to the heartbroken sound my own mother had made months before. When I’d taken her home following what we’d thought was Nova’s funeral and she’d curled up on my sister’s bed—that sound had echoed in my head for weeks. But the one that came from Lis would remain with me until my dying day. The cry stabbed through my heart, and I gripped her tighter, rocking her against me as I allowed my own tears to flow freely.
“What’s happened?” Mom demanded, touching a hand to both of our backs.
“They just took her for surgery,” I informed her quietly.
“Already?” Nova whispered, wrapping her arms around us from the other side.
“Yeah,” I choked out, trying to remain strong for my woman. But thinking of Justice, all alone as she went through something grown adults were frightened of, was killing me. She shouldn’t have had to go through this at such a vulnerable age—or at all, damn it. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the light floral scent of Lis’s shampoo in an attempt to ground myself. “We… Um, we should get texts telling us what’s going on with her as it happens.”
“Okay,” Nova said, trying to sound brave for us. “Let’s get you two into a chair. Cali needs to eat again. And she’s going to need to pump soon.”
My legs felt unsteady as I found the first chair and dropped down on it, pulling Lis into my lap. She curled into a ball in my arms, trying to make herself as small as possible to either hide from her pain or hold it in—I wasn’t sure which. I cupped the back of her head, holding it against my shoulder as I kissed her brow. “Baby, you need to eat.”
“My stomach feels sick,” she sniffled, rubbing her running nose against my shirt.
“Mine too, babe,” I admitted. “But you need to eat for Justice.”
More tears filled her already swollen eyes, but she gave a tiny nod. Nova pushed a mug of something into my hands, and I lifted it to Lis’s lips, urging her to drink the soup.
“It doesn’t have egg, dairy, or wheat in it, does it, sis?” I asked as Lis continued to drink.
“No,” she assured me, dashing her fingers over her own tears. “Maria makes all of Cali’s food separately from everyone else’s. There’s actually a smaller kitchen that was meant for staff use in the past. She’s using it just for Cali’s meals so there isn’t any cross contamination.”
My throat was too tight to respond, so I just nodded and continued to hold the mug to Lis’s lips. A wrap of some kind was placed in my hand, and I lifted my brows, again to confirm it was free of all the foods that would hurt Justice. Her digestive system found them difficult to process. If Lis ate any of them, even if it was just a trace amount, it would affect our daughter.
“Gluten-free tortilla wrap. Grilled chicken, lettuce, and tomato with a little Italian dressing that is completely allergen-friendly,” Nova explained patiently.
I exchanged the soup for the wrap, holding it to Lis’s mouth so she could take small bites. Luckily, she got half of it down, and then she grew uncomfortable. While Nova had been making sure Lis was fed, Mom was busy setting up the breast pump, getting everything ready to go.
Shooting a glare at the guard, I jerked my head at the door, and he quickly excused himself. On his way out, I realized that Guzman was absent, but I didn’t have time to wonder where the head of security was or what the fuck he was doing.
Mom brought over the pump and Lis tried to get off my lap, but I locked my arms around her, holding her in place. She huffed but didn’t argue as she widened her already unbuttoned shirt and then pulled at the cups of her nursing bra, freeing both breasts at the same time so she could pump.
While she worked on gathering milk for Justice, I ate a little of the food in the cooler. My stomach was tied up in knots, but I forced the food down so that I would be alert for Justice’s sake.
We’d already gotten the notification that Justice was sedated, and a short time later, we received a message that the pediatric cardiologist had opened her chest. I could picture it all in my head, and it made the chicken wrap sit heavy in my stomach. But I fought the urge to puke, needing to be strong for Lis’s sake.
Time seemed to stand still, yet pass in the blink of an eye. Every time my phone buzzed with a new text, my gut would clench and the urge to puke would intensify until I read the message.
“The opening has been closed,” I read aloud, and all three women seemed to release their held breaths as one.
