No Ordinary Love (G Street Chronicles Presents The Love. Lies & Lust Series)

by Mz. Robinson

  “Hey,” Tabitha smiled as I approached her.

  “How is she doing?” I asked, immediately inquiring about Amel.

  “Much better,” Tabitha advised me. There was obvious relief in her voice and etched in her olive- colored complexion. “She’s in there with the doctor now.”

  “Doctor?”

  “Yes, one of the customer’s is a physician,” she explained. “She was in the ladies room while Amel was in there and she offered her assistance.”

  “Thank God,” I said, sincerely thankful.

  “I know,” Tabitha sighed shaking her head. “That girl is too stubborn for her own good.”

  “I agree,” I said, nodding my head.

  “She had a fit when I told her you were coming, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “You did the right thing,” I assured her.

  “Well, I’ll be upstairs in the lounge if you need me,” she said, stepping past me.

  “Thanks again,” I smiled. I knocked on the door then waited until I heard Amel say come in before I entered. Amel sat, reclining on the velvet sofa positioned against the wall, with a folded, wet towel resting on her forehead. She wore a light blue blouse and tan dress pants. Her natural hair was pulled neatly on top of her head in a tucked bun. It was obvious from the slightly off color of her skin, and the faint red surrounding her grey pupils, that Amel wasn’t feeling well; but she looked extremely stylish none the less. The doctor was a thick woman with cinnamon-colored skin and short tapered hair. She wore a plain, soft pink eyelet dress and brown wedges. She sat beside Amel on the sofa holding a large leather handbag on her lap. She wasn’t what I considered beautiful, but she had a distinct look that made her look somewhat exotic. I guessed her to be in her late thirties. Her dark brown eyes travelled from mine down to my belly then back up again.

  “Hello,” I smiled looking from Amel to the woman. “I’m Octavia.” I said extending my hand to the doctor.

  “Nice to meet you Octavia,” she said politely while shaking my hand. “I’m Doctor Rice, but you can call me Shayla.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “How far along are you?” Shayla asked pointing to my stomach.

  “Eight months,” I said proudly.

  “Almost at the finish line,” Shayla smiled. “How wonderful.”

  “Yes,” I said proudly. “Sometimes it feels like I’m being drug over the line.”

  “Your first one?” she asked.

  “No, this is number two,” I said. “And ten times more difficult than the first.”

  “You’re carrying it beautifully,” Shayla said. “Gorgeous…the joys of motherhood.”

  “Thank you. I’m very thankful,” I said rubbing my belly. Shayla stared at me in silence for a moment with a look of euphoria on her face.

  “Well, I should leave the two of you alone,” Shayla finally said, standing with her bag in hand. “Amel take care of yourself, and next time be a little more careful on your food selection and drink plenty of water.” She patted Amel on her hand and then turned to me. “Octavia it was a pleasure meeting you. Take care.”

  “Thank you for everything,” I said courteously.

  “Not a problem,” she replied. She passed by me then walked out the door.

  “You didn’t have to come,” Amel said in a hushed tone once we were alone. She sat up, and then pulled the towel from her head. “I really wish you hadn’t.”

  “Of course I did, and sorry, but you know I had to check on you,” I said, walking over to the sofa then sitting down. “Besides you should have stayed at home.

  “I’m fine…” she said, “it turns out it was just something I ate. She gave me something for it and I feel ten times better now.”

  “Food poisoning?” I asked.

  “Yeah…”Amel said nonchalantly. I had a nagging feeling that there was something Amel was leaving out.

  “Is there anything else?” I questioned. Silence. “Amel?” I asked, looking at her.

  “Dehydration,” she said, looking at me with tears in her eyes. “That’s all.” I watched as a single tear fell from her eye down to her almond-colored cheek. “That’s it...”

  I knew that she was lying, but the last thing I wanted to do was push too hard. Since Amel’s run in with drugs I was extra careful with how I dealt with her. There was always a part of me that was fearful that she would relapse. I knew it was wrong for me to assume that every time something went wrong with Amel that it would force her to slip back into substance abuse; after all, my own father was a recovered alcoholic and I had no concerns that he would return to his old habit. However, my feelings towards Amel were different for some strange reason.

  “Well, why don’t you go home,” I said.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Amel go home,” I said firmly. “That’s a direct order.” She looked at me, then finally nodded her head.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “I’ll walk you out,” I offered, sliding off the sofa. I waited for her to gather her things together and then slip her feet into her designer pumps. We exited the office, and then walked in silence through the restaurant. Before we reached the front entrance Shayla stopped us.

  “Octavia, the food here is fabulous,” she purred. “I can’t wait to come back.”

  “Thank you,” I said, genuinely flattered. “My staff and I take pride in what we do.”

  “I can tell,” she said politely. “Well, I better hit the ladies room before I get back to the office. Again, nice meeting you; and Amel don’t forget what I told you about taking care of yourself. No one can watch out for you but you.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed, looking at Amel. She remained silent while nodding her head. Shayla smiled at each of us then walked away. I had parked my car upon arrival at the curb directly in front of the restaurant for easy access; I assumed Amel was parked in the normal employee parking lot. On a normal day I would have walked her to her vehicle considering that she wasn’t feeling well, but I was trying to conserve some of my energy for when I returned home to Damon.

  “Call me if you need me,” I smiled before turning and giving her a big hug.

  “I will. I’ll see you Monday,” she replied, pulling away from me slowly then walking away.

  Once I was safely inside my vehicle I called my husband to inform him I was headed home and to give him the update on Amel’s condition. As I prepared to pull my Benz onto the road I noticed Amel in my rearview mirror. She was standing on the sidewalk and appeared to be staring off into space. What the hell? I thought to myself. I shifted into park, waited until the traffic was clear, then opened my door and climbed out. I stepped back on to the sidewalk looking in Amel’s direction.

  “Amel,” I called, “are you alright?” She turned her head redirecting her attention to me.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “I’m fine...just thinking”

  “You can think at home,” I teased.

  “You’re right.”

  “Good,” I said in a serious manner. “Be careful.”

  “You be careful too,” she said. “And thank you for everything Octavia.” She waved her hand in the air before stepping off the sidewalk and into oncoming traffic. I stared in horror as I watched the tan SUV slam into her body, sending it soaring in midair.

  “Noooo!” I screamed, moving as fast as I could to the scene of the accident.

  “I didn’t see her!” I heard the woman driver yell as she rushed out of her car. As I got closer to the place in the road where she was standing next to Amel’s motionless body, I felt an all too familiar pain in my abdomen.

  “Call 911!” someone yelled. I fought to maintain my balance as contraction after contraction rippled through my body. The scene became chaotic as passersby, and some of my customers, flooded the street. I watched as the driver of the car attempted to administer first aid to Amel. Her cheeks were flushed as tears poured from her eyes. I cried with her; unable to pull my eyes from the scene.

/>   “Ughh,” I groaned, clutching my belly. I felt a cooling sensation trickling down between my legs. My water had broken. The baby is coming, I thought.

  “Amel!” I heard someone scream. “Oh…no...no!”

  “Octavia!” Tabitha called, coming towards me. She was the first to notice me. “Are you okay?”

  “My water broke,” I informed her through clenched teeth. I tried to concentrate on my breathing; tried to calm my racing heart. My techniques were of no use.

  “Doctor!” She called, waving her hand in the air. I looked up and saw Shayla coming in our direction. She ran to the place where we were standing with her handbag swinging from her arm.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Her water broke,” Tabitha informed her. Shayla put her arm around me, allowing me to press my weight against her body.

  “It’s okay,” she said, “I got you. Tabitha go check on the other employees.” Tabitha nodded her head then ran off. I felt a sharp pain shooting through my arm as everything around me began to spin. “Let’s get you to the hospital… now!” Shayla said. I nodded in agreement as everything slowly began to fade to black.

  *****

  I slipped in and out of consciousness while everything around me appeared in a blur. I could feel myself moving, hear the sound of tires screeching, and smell the distinct smell that only came with a new car. I was in the back of a vehicle. “I need you there immediately!” I heard a woman say before I passed out again. I can’t tell you how many seconds passed, but I was later on my back with my legs up in stirrups, lying on a bed. The sounds and smells around me were notification that I was in the hospital.

  “We’ve got to get her stabilized!” A man screamed. “This baby is coming now!”

  “Damon,” I said softly, attempting to fight against the weight bearing down on my eyes. I looked around at the figures surrounding me, wanting desperately to be able to make out the faces and distinguish between the voices.

  “Who’s Damon?” the man asked.

  “Her husband,” the woman replied.

  “Something’s wrong,” I whispered. I felt heavy pressure in the center of my chest while in between my legs I felt hands, then the weight of what I knew was my child’s head breaking through my gateway.

  “It’s a boy.” I heard a soft hum, followed by the words, “We’re losing her!”

  I slipped between the gap of life and death; thoughts flooded my brain like raging rivers overtaking unprotected lands. I thought about my husband and the life the two of us shared, of my daughter and the joy she brings, of my parents and their unyielding love, of the baby I had just given birth to, and lastly of Shontay and the last moments of her life. I closed my eyes then took a deep excruciating breath, the one that was designated to be my last.

  Chapter 3

  Damon

  I zoomed down Governor’s Drive towards Huntsville Hospital, throwing all thought of speed and safety out the window. My only concern was to get to my wife because she needed me. My mind was racing from the things her employees had explained to me over the phone and with worry concerning Octavia’s condition. I had given Octavia adequate time to get home when I decided to call and check on her. After receiving her voicemail twice, I called the restaurant. That’s when Kaitlyn explained to me that something terrible had happened. She was hysterical, and her breathing was so shallow I was certain she was on the verge of hyperventilating. I was trying to make sense of her tear-filled babbling when Heather, another one of Octavia’s employees, eventually took the phone from her and explained as calmly as I imagine was possible, that Octavia was taken to the emergency room and that she had gone into labor after witnessing Amel get hit by a car.

  “When?” I demanded, as I moved quickly exiting my home.

  “I don’t know,” she stuttered. “About forty-five minutes ago.”

  “Why didn’t anyone call me?” I snapped.

  “We thought…we thought…Tabitha did.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry. It’s just crazy here right now. Amel is dead!” she cried erratically. I tried to remind myself that Octavia’s employees were not the enemy and that my frustration was not directed at them, but more so caused by my concern for my wife.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as calmly as possible. “Do you know which hospital they took Octavia to?”

  “No sir,” she said softly.

  “Thank you.”

  I ended the call, and then called the first reasonable and closest choice between the two main hospitals in the city. I was advised by the receptionist that a woman fitting my wife’s description had been brought in earlier. As I drove to the hospital, I thought about what Octavia’s employees disclosed to me about Amel. The thought of the conversation Octavia and I had earlier went through my mind. She thought that her nightmare about Gator had been some sort of omen of something terrible to come. It seemed she was right.

  I maneuvered my Jaguar in the parking lot of the Women’s and Children center, slammed the gear into park, killed the engine, and then stepped out. I had left my home as soon as I found out what had taken place; however, I knew when the physician came out to speak with me in the waiting room that I was too late and something had gone horribly wrong. I listened in disbelief and regret as the middle-aged man of eastern decent, whom introduced himself as Doctor Aoura explained that Octavia had suffered a minor stroke after delivery; during which time, her heart stopped for a whole seven minutes. He advised me that she was now in a medically-induced coma as a precautionary measure to prevent damage to her brain.

  Doctor Aoura stated that he was confident that Octavia would recover one hundred percent from the attack, but we wouldn’t know for sure what damage, if any, had been caused until Octavia awakened. I couldn’t understand how a woman as young and healthy as my wife could suffer a stroke, but then I reminded myself of all the stress and tragedy she had experienced. My wife had seen more death and destruction in four years than most people saw in a lifetime.

  “What about the baby?” I asked.

  “He didn’t make it.” he explained. “He was still born. I’m sorry for your loss Damon. You can see him when you’re ready.” I felt tears swelling in the wells of my eyes, but I commanded them to be still. I had to focus on Octavia, I had to be strong.

  “I’d like to see my wife first,” I said, clearing my throat.

  “Understandable,” he said, nodding his head.

  *****

  They say a man never knows what he has until it’s gone. My thoughts alone of what my life would have been like without Octavia, lets me know that statement is true. I wished I had been with her when she was dealing with the loss of our son and going through the fight for her life; but to be honest, I don’t know if I would have been able to handle it. The mere vision of Octavia flat lining on the operating table terrified me and shook me to my core. You have to understand that a portion of the fiber that makes me whole lies within Octavia, and it thrives with every breath she takes. If her breath—her life—were to ever be cut off, then so would mine. In essence, a part of me would die as well.

  I stood by the metal bed staring at Octavia as she slept peacefully. I watched her chest as it rose and fell gently with every breath. Her brown sugar complexion glowed radiantly despite the things she had been through just hours before. I ran my fingertips from her wrist up the curve of her arm, thanking God for the blood that flowed through each and every one of her veins. I leaned down and kissed the top of her forehead. “I’ll be back my love,” I whispered. I turned and then exited the room headed for the morgue.

  I had imagined several times how it would feel to hold my son in my arms. How he would wrap his tiny finger around mine, stare at me with honey-brown eyes like his mother, and how I would fall in love all over again. What I never imagined was that I would be looking down on his tiny, breathless body. I gently ran my hand across his head, stoking the fine black hairs with my fingertips and allowing the tears I fought so hard to keep under wraps to finally escape my eyes.
I took a few minutes to get my emotions together then went to handle the paperwork associated with Octavia’s admittance and our child’s death. After contacting our parents, I returned to the Intensive Care Unit and the bed assigned to Octavia. I pushed the curtain back and found a tall, voluptuous sister standing next to the bed.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, capturing her attention. The woman instantly turned on her heels, staring at me with dark—slanted brown eyes.

  “I was just checking on her,” she said almost mumbling. “How can I help you?” She stood by the bed with her heels planted firmly in a defensive stance, clutching her handbag close by her side, and looking as if she was prepared to battle at any moment.

  “I’m her husband,” I advised her.

  There was a shift in her eyes and a change in her expression as her full lips turned up into a smile. “I’m sorry Damon,” she exhaled. “You startled me.”

  “Who are you?” I questioned, wondering how she knew my name. I could tell by the dress and heels the woman wore that she was not a part of the staff and that her presence was clearly on a personal level.

  “I’m Shayla Rice,” she said to me. “I met Octavia earlier at her restaurant. I was there when the accident took place and Octavia went into labor.”

  “How did you get in here?” I questioned. “The only visitors allowed to see my wife are her family.” My protective nature instantly kicked in. I assumed she was a busy body looking for a story or gossip.

  “I’m a doctor,” she said. “I helped administer aid to Octavia and drove her to the hospital.”

  “Thank you,” I said, slowly letting down my guard.

  “I was happy to help and I’m sorry for invading your privacy,” she said. “I had an emergency page of my own after I got her here, so I left, but I was just so concerned about her and your child.” The mere mention of my son caused a knot to develop in my stomach.