“Okay,” Casey responded, her heart still pounding hard against her chest cavity. “So why are you out here talking to me instead of getting the baby out?” She knew that she sounded rude, but it seemed a legitimate question.
Dr. O’Donnell laughed. “I thought you might ask that question. I had a few moments while they prep Sammie and put her under. She insisted I come tell you the news. That’s one good friend you have there.” He reached his hand out and squeezed her arm to comfort her. “She is going to be just fine. I’ll take good care of her. Of the both of you.” He flashed her his warm smile, and turned to disappear behind the ER doors.
Casey only felt minimally better. There was still the risk that something would go wrong, as with any surgery. Convinced that her constant pacing was not going to help calm her down, she went to sit beside Conor, who was already on the phone with Giovanni, filling him in.
“Sounds like everythin’ is goin’ to be okay, then?” he said in his brut Irish accent after he hung up the phone. To Casey’s surprise, hearing his voice calmed her. She had missed him so much.
“I sure hope so,” she replied, her eyes locked onto the doors to the ER. “What did Giovanni say?”
“He’s stuck in a meetin’, but he will be here as soon as he can.”
“Okay, good. I know Sammie will want to see him after…” After either the delivery or the loss of the baby. She did not say it out loud, but both scenarios consumed her mind.
“Samantha’s doctor seems like an all right fella. What did he mean when he said he would take care of the both of ya?” Conor questioned.
“He just knows how close we are,” Casey said without hesitation. “I have gone to most of her appointments with her. I guess he just wanted to make me feel better.” She hated lying to him, especially after what she had put him through, but this was not the time or the place to have any serious conversation. All she wanted to do right now was to make sure her best friend and her baby made it out of surgery okay. They could deal with her past afterward.
Five cups of coffee later, Casey was anxious to hear news from the surgery. Over the past hour, she had done immense research on her phone about emergency Cesareans and placental abruptions. She was now well versed in surgery times, risks, complications, healing periods, etc. From the knowledge she had acquired, Sammie should be out of surgery by now. She hung her head in frustration, stretching her aching neck from side to side. Conor had not said much to her, his brow furrowed as though he was deep in thought.
Casey’s head popped up when she heard the doors to the ER open. Dr. O’Donnell was walking toward them, and Sammie studied his face for any sign of dismay. He was a closed book. She stood and walked toward him, her heart racing. Conor followed, grasping her hand in anticipation.
“Is she okay? How is the baby?” she asked anxiously, preparing herself for the worst.
Dr. O’Donnell smiled. “Both mommy and baby are doing just fine. Sammie now has a beautiful little boy.” Casey and Conor sighed in relief simultaneously. “She did great. The baby is healthy, and Sammie will soon wake from anesthesia. We are going to move her up to her own room within the hour, and then you can visit her.”
“Oh, thank you!” Casey screeched. She was convinced that despite what happened earlier in the evening, this was one of the best days of her life.
When Dr. O’Donnell had gone, Casey turned to face Conor. In that moment, he was more gorgeous than she had ever seen him, and despite everything, he was there by her side. She took two quick steps, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her lips to his. Her miniscule fear of his rejection was curbed when he placed one arm on the small of her back, and the fingers of his other hand intertwined in the hair at the back of her head. He pulled her closer, his tongue dancing affectionately with hers. As per usual, the world around them stood still. The noise of the busy waiting room went silent, and the only sound was the beating of their hearts in sync.
Conor finally pulled away from Casey’s lips and put his forehead against hers. His eyes still closed, he held her face in his hands and said, “I love ya. I love ya so much, Casey.”
“I love you, too,” she said as he opened his eyes. She could stare into those emeralds forever.
Chapter 38
An hour later, Casey rode the elevator alongside Conor and Giovanni. When Gio had arrived about twenty minutes earlier, they had filled him in on the whole evening. He was so apologetic for not being there sooner that he went to the gift shop and bought an enormous teddy bear, which was also accompanying them in the elevator.
When the doors opened on the fourth floor, Casey asked if she might see Sammie alone for a bit. Conor and Giovanni both agreed, and walked toward the waiting room. She made her way down the long hall, both anxious to see the baby and to apologize to Sammie for being so ugly earlier. She stopped at the nurse’s station, and they pointed her down the hall in the direction of room 454.
Casey entered the room to see her best friend holding a small bundle wrapped tightly in a blue and white blanket. Tears instantly filled her eyes as she walked over to stand beside her best friend.
She peered at the beautiful baby nuzzled in Sammie’s arms. “Oh, Sammie, he is gorgeous.”
“I know. Isn’t he just perfect?” Sammie said, her voice indicating no sign of weakness from the surgery.
“He sure is,” Casey said as she reached out to touch the baby’s tiny hand. The infant clasped his fingers around hers and held on tightly. Her heart melted. “Are you feeling okay? I was so worried.”
“I am hurting, but this little guy is like a natural drug. Well, and they gave me pain killers, so I am not too shabby.” She laughed groggily. “Casey, I am so sorry for telling Conor. That was not my place, and you had every right to be angry with me…”
“No. I’m sorry for being so rude about it. You were just trying to do what I was too scared to do,” Casey responded, guilt rising inside her again. If she had told Conor to begin with, none of this mess would have happened. “Enough of that now. Let’s talk about this beautiful boy. What have you decided to name him?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Sammie said, a worried look passing over her face. “I really wanted to name him…” she hesitated. “I wanted to name him Jackson Spencer. If not, that is totally okay. I just thought…”
Sammie caught her off guard. Spencer. She had not heard or said that name out loud for over a year now. She had struggled daily to try and forget the name. It hurt too bad to think about her deceased infant son, who bore the name Spencer Jacob Baker. She had called him Spence for short. Until this moment the name did not exist.
Casey willed her heart to slow, and gathered both her strength and her breath. “I think that would be great. Spencer…” she said for the first time in forever, “is a good, strong name.” She exhaled. She had said it. With the birth of little Jackson Spencer, Casey was able to lay Spencer Jacob to rest. A weight had been lifted.
Casey kissed Sammie on the forehead, and then leaned in to the baby. “You take care of your mommy, little guy. She is a pretty amazing person.”
Casey said her goodbyes to Sammie and turned to leave the room. Tears of joy filled her eyes. Tonight she would tell Conor everything—her entire past exposed. Tonight, the weight would be lifted, and she would move on. Tonight was the night that changed the course of her future.
Chapter 39
Casey stuck the key into the front door to unlock her apartment. Conor was so close behind her that she felt the warmth of his breath graze the hair on the back of her neck. She was instantly aroused, and wanted nothing more than to consume his thick shaft, but they needed to talk first. She needed to let him in—to break down the wall completely. She needed to lay before him, raw and exposed. She needed him to know her.
She opened the door, and walked into the lit apartment. In the midst of the chaos earlier, they had not thought to turn off the lights. Casey hung her jacket, and went over to sit on the couch. Conor hung his and f
ollowed to sit beside her. They sat in silence for a moment, Casey picking at her nails as she tried to find the words.
“I’m sorry,” Casey started, thinking that an apology was the best place to begin.
“Ya have nothin’ to be sorry about,” Conor said, though they both knew that was not true.
“I’m sorry for not letting you in. Sorry for not telling you the truth from the beginning. I was just scared. Scared to move on, or scared to let go. Scared that history would repeat itself. Hell, I’m still scared, but I owe it to you to tell you what happened. I don’t know how much Sammie told you, but this is my side of it…”
“Okay,” Conor said, leaning back against the couch to make himself more comfortable.
Casey could not look into his eyes, but gazed down at her nails as she began. Her fingers were restless, as was the rest of her body.
“I was married once before, while I lived in Texas. I was twenty-four years old and finishing up my degree when I met my husband at a bar we both worked at. His name was Jace Baker, and we fell in love instantly. He was everything to me. I was almost obsessed. Altogether, we were a couple for 5 years, right up until the time he died. The first couple of years were great. We were pretty much attached at the hip. To everyone outside of our tight little bubble, we were the perfect couple. The truth is that we were both drinking way too much, and we fought like cats and dogs. By the third year, we were getting out of control, and I cut back my drinking substantially. Jace, on the other hand, seemed to drink more in that year.”
Casey stopped to catch her breath. She finally glanced up to study Conor’s face. He was listening intently, with no sign of pity showing whatsoever, so she continued.
“During the third year we were together, I got pregnant. I was ecstatic. I had always wanted kids, and though Jace and I had our problems, I still thought he hung the moon. I loved him. Needless to say, you can’t always control what the heart wants. Jace was furious that I was pregnant. He made me feel like it was my fault—like I was solely responsible for the pregnancy. We argued over the course of the next few days—he wanted an abortion and I wanted to keep the baby. He drank, and we argued. I finally gave in—I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had the abortion, and my heart broke into a million pieces.”
She stopped again to study his face, this time for disgust. He showed none, so she continued.
“After the abortion, things calmed down. Jace got a new job, and he stopped drinking as much. I barely drank during that time, because I felt better equipped to deal with his mood swings when I was sober. By the fourth year we were married, and I was pregnant again. This time, for whatever reason, Jace seemed excited at the prospect of having a baby. It was like he was this completely different person—so warm and loving all through the pregnancy. He made sure I didn’t lift a finger. He even scaled back his drinking to just a few beers here and there. I thought, during that time, that things were finally looking up, but I was so wrong.”
Casey paused again, this time fighting back tears as the memories now flooded back to her. She realized in that moment that she had been scared all along, not of breaking down the barrier and letting Conor in, but of having to relive the horror of what happened. The fear she felt for the man that she had once adored washed over her. She felt her body tense, and she began shaking as she shared the final part of the story.
“In the fifth year of our relationship, Jace became something different altogether. I have blocked out so much of what happened between us, but I can never forget the fear I felt in that final year. He was a monster. He had a way of making me feel so low, I spent days contemplating suicide. If it were not for the baby, I probably would have. I was just too weak or too scared to leave him. In July, Jace came home drunk one afternoon. I was rocking the baby, and by the way he was clamoring around the house, I knew that he had been drinking heavily. I put the baby in his crib and went into the bedroom where Jace was searching for something…”
Casey had not been able to recover the memory before, but she now knew what it was that he had been looking for. His gun. He was in search of the gun that he kept in the bedside table—the gun that Casey had hidden from him the week before, because she feared moments just like that one. Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks in thick streams.
“He was searching for a gun that I had hidden the week before. I still don’t know what he was going to do with it, but I can imagine he wanted to kill me. When he found out that I had hidden it from him, he threw me on the bed and raped me. It wasn’t the first time. I fought against him and he choked me until I passed out. When I woke up, he was in the kitchen with the baby. The air was thick with malevolence. He almost looked evil. I grabbed the baby and told him I was leaving him. He kicked me in the back, and I fell. I turned to face him, and he punched me with his closed fist. Stunned from the blow, I sunk limp on tile floor. He grabbed the baby, taking advantage of the fact that I couldn’t move. When I came to, I was too late.”
She sobbed now, and Conor moved closer to wrap his arms around her. His warm flesh comforted her and he said, “It’s okay, love, ya don’ have to finish if it is too painful.” Casey composed herself, and scooted back away from him a couple inches.
“No, I do. You have to know.” She inhaled deeply, and began again. “When—when I came to, he was already in the car. I saw the car seat in the back, and a flask in his hand. I ran as fast as I could, but he was already backing out of the driveway. Terrified that he was driving drunk with my child in the back, I hopped into the other car, speeding to get past him in the hopes of barricading the country road that we lived on. When I got ahead of him, I glanced into the rearview mirror and the SUV was already rolling. I watched it fly through the air and catch fire. I slammed on the breaks and got out, running toward the SUV that was now lying destroyed in the middle of the road, flames engulfing metal. I got as close as I could to the blaze in hopes that I might save them, but it was too late. The smell—oh my God, the smell. It lingers in my nose even now. I wanted to jump right in those flames with them. I still have no idea what stopped me.”
She wept as Conor threw his arms around her, holding her close. “I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry that happened to ya’.” There was no pity in his voice, only sorrow for the pain that she had been silently dealing with.
“A week later I buried them. I laid a monster and an angel side by side in the earth. My son was not even a year old.” She sobbed again, each tear relieving her a little more. The weight was slowly lifting. As she cried in Conor’s arms, she felt his body shuddering. He too was weeping for her.
When she composed herself once again, she felt different, like she could breathe again. This is what she had been waiting for.
“Why didn’t ya tell me before?” Conor asked, his eyes still damp and misty.
“I don’t think I was prepared to let go. I only recently remembered the details of the day of the accident. My mind buried my memories of the monster, leaving me only good memories of Jace. All I saw in the year before I met you was the man of my dreams who I had abruptly lost. My family, dead.” She realized that it was more than that. “I guess, too, I thought that if I told you, it was okay for me to fall in love with you, and I just wasn’t ready. In the end, I couldn’t help it. The heart wants what the heart wants. I was so scared that I would lose you, too.”
Conor looked deep in to her eyes. “I love ya, Casey. And I’m not goin’ anywhere. I want to be right here by your side until we are both old and gray.”
His words were so honest, so pure. She believed him when he promised a lifetime together. So he still wants to marry me, she thought, suddenly giddy as a schoolgirl. “I even forgive ya for not keepin’ the baby. It hurts, but in the end, I understand why ya had to do it. Maybe we can try again one day, if ya feel up to it?”
The baby! Casey had not told him. Boy, is he in for a shock. “I— I couldn’t go through with it,” she said.
“Through with what?” he asked distracted, mor
e than likely still processing all that she had told him.
“I went to go have the abortion, and I just couldn’t do it. Sitting in that waiting room, I couldn’t find any good justification for what I was doing. I didn’t want to lose a third child, especially not if I had a choice.”
Conor’s face lit up, gleaming with happiness. His eyes filled with tears as he said, “We are havin’ a baby?”
Casey’s heart was warmed by his reaction. “Yes, we are having a baby.”
Conor jumped from the couch and pulled Casey into his arms. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around, kissing her joyously. “Shite, this is the best day of me life!”
He set her down and knelt before her belly. “Hello, little one. I’m goin’ to be your da. I canna wait to meet ya. When ya come out, I’ll teach ya all about football,” he said, clearly meaning soccer.
“And what if our little guy is a little girl?” Casey asked, basking in the immense love that filled the room.
“Hey, gals can play football, too.” Conor said sternly.
“I am guessing then we will have a little tomboy on our hands, then?” Casey said, not opposed to the idea. She had been a tomboy growing up, and she turned out just fine.
“That’s right,” he said. Conor stopped ogling Casey’s belly and looked up at her. He reached his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out the same box he had presented at the restaurant that night.
“Casey Dwyer, for the second time, would ya make me the happiest man in the world? Will ya be my wife?”
This time Casey did not run. She did not panic. She smiled and said, “Of course I will.”
Conor placed the ring on her finger and swept her entire body into her arms. He pressed his lips to hers as he carried her toward the bedroom. Casey’s body roared with arousal, begging once again for those delicious little circles.
The Art of Moving On (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 24
