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“Told her I loved her today.” Each word squeezes my chest as though it’s caught up in a malicious fist.
“Yeah? How’d that go?”
“About as well as you’d expect with Kiersten. She decided going into labor was the best way to avoid that situation.”
The edge of his mouth lifts in a weak smile. “We aren’t doing any good standing in this room. Let’s tell the nurse where you’ll be and go visit your son. That’ll give a little power back to you. You can watch over him until Kiersten’s out of surgery, and we’ll update her parents again.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Law pulls me in for a back-slapping hug and steps back just as quickly. I’m not much of a hugger, but I appreciate the support from someone who not so long ago wanted to beat my face in.
Cami slams into her man at full speed and stuffs her face into his chest as she sobs. He holds her close, one hand spanning the back of her head, and a pang of jealousy strikes me. Not for Cami. I’m well over that little blip of a crush. No, I’m jealous he can no-holds-barred embrace the woman he loves, and she lets him.
I’d give anything for that.
By the time I return to the NICU, the doctor waves me inside. It feels like I’m trudging through concrete to get to my son, each step not fast enough.
Besides a few wires on his chest to monitor his vitals, he looks normal and absolutely perfect. His head is covered by a shield that I’m told provides extra oxygen, but he doesn’t have a nasal cannula or anything more invasive. His little violet-blue eyes blink sleepily open, and he turns his head toward me.
“Hey there, baby.” I reach out and run my index finger along his tiny toes. They’re w
rinkled and soft and curl at my touch. A tuft of dark brown hair pokes out from beneath a blue knit cap on his tiny head. I don’t think I’ve ever been around a newborn this small, and thankfully, I haven’t encountered many of them at work either.
Is it possible for a heart to beat straight out of a chest? Mine aches in an incredible way. So many emotions from the day have given me whiplash to the point I wouldn’t be surprised if I experience full-blown cardiac arrest.
But right now, that heart, even knowing the woman I adore is in surgery, is so full of love for the little person before me. I know without hesitation that I’d do anything to protect him.
“You’re tough, little man. Tough like your momma.”
Thinking of Kiersten, I take out my phone and snap a few pictures of him now that he’s all cleaned off. It’s nearly midnight. I don’t know when her surgery will be over, but it’s safe to assume she won’t be able to see him until tomorrow. They better pump her full of painkillers because she’s going to be a hellion if she can’t meet her baby tonight.
I sit in a rocking chair beside his tiny bed and simply stare at the little life I had a part in creating. For what feels like hours, I catalog every single twitch and stretch and yawn. I memorize the features that make him a baby, but to every woman I know will look like pieces of Kiersten and me. I just don’t see anything other than a smooshed old man's face, but this is why women are the more nurturing sex.
The exhaustion from the day hits me like a semitruck and fighting sleep becomes nearly impossible. I need caffeine. I hate myself for deciding between my son or staying awake, but I need to be ready for Kiersten when she gets out of surgery. The NICU nurses will be by my son’s side for anything he needs in the time being.
The question now is will there be a coffee station somewhere, or do I need to enlist my friends in the middle of the night to make a run?
Halfway down the hall from the NICU, a few people in scrubs step off the elevator with a gurney. My heart rate speeds up, hoping like hell it’s her, and I step to the side to give them room to pass. I lock my gaze on the gurney like a creep, unable to unroot my feet until I know if it’s her or not.
Whoosh.
A thousand pounds of pressure leaves my lungs in an instant, and for the first time in hours, I breathe deep.
It’s her.
Asleep, or resting her eyes, but very much alive.
Pushing off the wall at my back, I follow them back to her room.
Dr. Fischer tells me everything went well, and they stopped the bleeding without removing her uterus. She dims the lights on her way out, and the moment everyone leaves, I slip my long body onto the bed with her.
The action brings back old memories of sneaking beside Janessa while she slept in the hospital, but this is different. I used those moments to prepare myself for our final goodbye. Maybe I should be doing the same with Kiersten. If she decides she’ll never love me back, I’ll have to put distance between us to protect myself. As much as I possibly can while still raising a child together.
That thought can wait for another day, though. She doesn’t need to love me right now. I can hold her until she wakes, and we can return to being just friends or whatever our relationship needs to be for her. If I have anything to do with it, it won’t take long for her to realize she loves me too. She just won’t fucking admit it.
I wake with a start sometime later to a nurse poking around the bed. My mouth is drier than my mother’s humor, and my head feels stuffed with cotton.
“You know you’re not supposed to be lying there.” Her tone is stern, but her eyes sparkle in the early morning light.
