Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
“Maybe it’s best you do,” she says ever so quietly that I almost miss it. She walks off, and just as I hear the door open I say, “What about her son?”
“Your son? She spoke very highly of you even if we all thought you were imagined.” I look up at the nurse. “You do know she works here, right?”
I didn’t, I have no idea. I don’t know anything much about her. I know she’s a nurse and that’s it.
“She has many secrets,” I say.
“I could never work out why she chose to get pregnant knowing what she did.”
Heart disease and she knew.
And she went through with it anyway.
I spin to stare out the window and see Creed holding my son, still rocking him back and forth. Turning, I check Cleo and squeeze her hand. “Don’t you dare leave me. You can’t do this to me. What do I call him? You have a name picked out, right? Tell me.” I kiss her hand. I’m not proud about how she tricked me. But I also don’t want our son not to have a mother either. I grew up like that, and he needs a mother more than I ever did. I’m not enough.
“Wake up, Cleo, fucking wake up.”
Everyone’s here, I knew they would be. We’re one family even if we piss each other off and occasionally want to kill each other. Creed’s mother holds my baby in her arms as I drink a hot coffee.
“Will you shower?” Falcon asks pinching his nose. “Do you really want your son being subjected to that smell?”
I haven’t showered for almost two days. What with the labor then the wait, and now… this. I don’t even know what this is. It’s a watching-and-waiting game, and it’s one I never wanted to have. Who the fuck would choose this?
She’s been in ICU, and there’s no sign of life from her.
It has me worried.
Very fucking worried.
I stand as Echo hands me a bag and points to the bathroom not far from where we are. My eyes find my son, I have no idea what to name him, as Creed’s mother rocks him while humming. He’s safe, it’s a relief but only just slightly. I walk to the shower and strip my dirty suit off that I was in prior to coming to this fucking hospital. I never want to be in this hospital again for as long as I live. While scrubbing myself and washing my hair, I wonder, how the fuck am I going to raise a baby? Is there a handbook I can find to help me? Maybe Google?
Brushing my teeth, I quickly get dressed into some clean clothes, and when I step back out everyone’s standing and watching the window which leads into Cleo’s room. Doctors are in there, as well as the nurses who I found out are her friends—the midwife who told me she has a heart problem is her best friend. The bag drops from my hand and I push myself into the confined room. The tubes are gone from her mouth, and her eyes which are so blue are staring right at me.
“Darby...” she says my name with a dry voice.
The doctor starts speaking to her but her eyes stay glued to me.
“I want to see him. Is he beautiful?”
“Cleo…” the doctor says, and she shakes her head at him.
“I want to see my son, John.” He looks to me and nods—he’s giving me permission to bring him in. I wasn’t allowed to before this moment.
“It’s safe, for him…”
They all nod, even Cleo. The nurse sits her bed up as some of the many people begin to leave. Creed’s mother passes me my sleeping son, and when I come back, Cleo’s eyes track me and what’s bundled up in my hands. Only one nurse remains in the room. She sits next to Cleo’s bed, watching and making sure nothing’s happening.
“Closer, please.” I pull his blanket down so Cleo can see his face. Her hands that appeared so strong only a few days ago now seem weak, tired and hesitant.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask Cleo while still holding our son.
When she answers, she doesn’t look at me, just him. I don’t blame her, he is perfect. “I was very selfish, Darby. I saw you were a good man, and I took advantage of that fact. I won’t deny it, I knew that if I died you would care for him, and he would have a good life.” She coughs and covers her mouth. “Can I hold him?” I look to the nurse who nods her head. I place him in Cleo’s lap, and she wraps both her fragile arms around him.
“He’s so perfect,” Cleo states. “He has my eyes, Darby.”
The baby wakes and stares up at her.
“He does.”
Cleo’s finger runs down the length of his nose. She tells him he has my nose and what a beautiful baby he is. “You may never forgive me, I may never forgive me. But this… this moment is well worth it all.”