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Abby’s eyes gradually opened.
Glued to her bedside, I spoke softly. “Hi, love. It’s me.”
“Who?”
“Sig.”
Her voice was hoarse. “Oh. Yeah. You looked like Voldemort for a moment…”
What?I chuckled. “Alright.”
“Wait… I see you now. You look nice.”
“Thank you.”
“Handsome.”
I wiped my eyes. “Thank you,” I said, half-crying, half-laughing.
“What happened?” she asked, as awareness seemed to slowly replace the stupor of anesthesia. A look of alarm crossed her face. “Is the baby okay?”
“Yes. You had a boy. Everything is good with him. And you’re gonna be fine, too.”
“Where is he?” she rasped.
“He’s in the NICU right now, but only as a precaution.”
“A boy?” Her eyes filled with tears.
I brushed my hand along her hair. “Don’t cry, Abby. You’ve been through so much.”
“Why aren’t you with him? He needs you.”
“He’s in good hands. I’m right where I need to be.”
She cleared her throat. “What happened to me?”
“How much do you remember?”
“Everything until they took me into surgery. I heard them say I was losing blood.”
I nodded. “They had to give you a blood transfusion. It saved your life.”
“I can still have kids?”
“Yes. They didn’t have to take anything besides the baby out, thank God.”
She burst into tears. “I was so scared I would never see you again.”
“Don’t cry, love. You’re here. You’re fine. The baby is fine. Don’t think about any of that right now. I want you to think happy thoughts. You’ve been through too much and you need to recover.” I sniffled as I caressed her hair.
“Why areyoucrying, then?”
I had no suitable answer.
Before I could come up with anything, she asked, “What does he look like?”
“He has Britney’s eyes. My dark hair. And your fighting spirit.”
