Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I stroke the hair from her brow and trace my thumbs over the fragile skin under her eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Did you see him?” she croaks.
“He’s perfect, Valentina. So perfect.”
She lets out a gush of air that makes her shoulders sink back into the mattress.
“Rest.” I kiss her cracked lips. “I’ll be right here.”
Her eyelids flutter close, and her breathing changes. In a second, I lose her to sleep. It’s the anesthetic still in her system. Unable to tear away, I lie down next to her body and carefully pull her to me. I watch her until a new shift of staff comes on duty and a nurse pops her head around the door.
“The doctor is going to examine her, now, if you’d like to go home and have a shower,” she offers in a curt manner. “Maybe you’d like to eat something, too. You’ll need your strength to support your pretty young wife and that handsome son of yours.”
Dragging a hand over my beard, I look down at my crumpled shirt and suit. I must look a mess. My mouth tastes foul, and my throat hurts. Hunger hasn’t crossed my mind, but I feel unstable as I get to my feet. I’m reluctant to leave her, but get out of the staff’s hair so they can care for the precious creature on the white bed.
On my way out, I check on Connor. After washing and warming my hands, I lay them on his back. He’s so small my palm envelops his whole upper body. Dearness, pride, protective instinct, and love hurt my chest.
I pass my first diaper changing test, and when I place Connor like the nurse shows me, he holds onto my thumb with his fist, his grip surprisingly strong. It physically aches when I have to pry his miniscule fingers loose.
I put my fingertip on his heart. “I love you, son.”
No cell phones are allowed in the maternity wing. Outside, when I switch my phone on for the first time again, there are ten missed calls from Kris. Damn. In my panic, I completely forgot to let her know the status of events.
Quincy sits in a chair against the wall when I enter the reception area. He jumps to his feet when he sees me. “How are they doing?”
The smile that cracks my face is a string tied to a helium balloon. I’m going to float right up to the clouds. “Good. She’s tired. He’s perfect.” I take in his disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow. “What are you still doing here?”
“Wasn’t going to leave without you. Rhett went home to check on Charlie. Kris was going ape shit. She freaked out when she couldn’t get hold of you, so Rhett told her the news. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Thank you.” I mean it like never before. I don’t know what I would’ve done without these two men. And Kris.
“You’re welcome. You look like shit. I’ll drive you home.”
It’s nearly six in the morning. A new day has dawned. The rays of the sun wash over the windowsills like the hands of a clock, marking my time that’s running out. It feels as if I spent ten thousand nights in here, and every step I take toward the sunlight is heavier than the one before. Each mile I put between us is a mile closer to never. I swallow the knowledge of what I have to do, putting it away to deal with later, alone. For now, we need to celebrate life.
At home, an excited Charlie and Kris meet me at the door.
Kris embraces me, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Congratulations. I was going out of my mind. Tell me everything. I made breakfast.”
She leads us to the table by the kitchen and makes me relay everything that happened over eggs, bacon, and toast. I only focus on the medical aspects and go into a long and detailed description of Connor, leaving out the part of how this is going to play out. When they’ve oohed and aahed, I kick-start myself into action. Kris can’t afford to close the practice for the day and knowing how little sleep she got last night, I offer to organize a temp through Dial-a-Temp for the day, but she stubbornly refuses. We still have to talk about Valentina’s maternity leave and how it will impact Kris’ practice, but I put it on the backburner for now. The priority is for Valentina and Connor to rest and grow strong.
Feeling better after a shower and changing into a clean suit, I dial Michael and inform him of the news. I have five days of paternity leave, but will swing past the office later this afternoon to tie up a few loose ends.
Five days to say goodbye. That’s what I give myself. I’m not going to brood over it. Not yet. There are shitloads of things to do in five days. The nursery isn’t ready. Except for a few outfits and a box of diapers, we haven’t gotten around to the baby shopping. Valentina needs a crib, pushchair, carrycot, car seat, breast pump, and various other devices that babies require. After doing some shopping, I want to go past the clinic again. Eager to get on with the chores so I can get back to the two people I care most about in the world, I get some of the cash I stashed for the baby shopping in the safe from my study. I’m about to walk out of the room when my open laptop catches my attention. I always keep it closed when I’m not using it. It’s a security thing, knowing how easy a hacker can access the webcam and study what’s going on in our house. Every hair on my body bristles. Someone snooped around. There’s information on that computer that can implicate me in crimes and murders. Deliberately, I haven’t erased the evidence of financial embezzlement and bribes we made for Magda’s business. You never know when you may need it, like to blackmail yourself out of a dire situation when your life is threatened.