by Melody Anne
“There’s blood in her mouth.”
“No . . .”
Alyssa felt the mask slip over her face, felt the lights begin to dim. It’s too early. It’s too early. Those were her last thoughts before she went under.
JACKSON RAN FROM
the jet to his brother’s truck. “How is she?”
“She’s still in surgery,” Michael said. “I’m sorry, Jackson. We don’t have any answers yet.” He threw the truck into drive and peeled off down the road.
“Are her parents there?”
“Yes. The doctors have come out a few times to keep them informed, but so far her condition is the same. She’s still alive. The baby’s still alive. The last time the doctors came out, they were looking grim, though.”
“It’s been four hours. How freaking long can surgery last?” Jackson shouted, knowing it wasn’t in any way Michael’s fault, but feeling the need to take his outrage out on someone—anyone. He should have been home.
“It’s not your fault,” Michael said as if reading his mind.
“I shouldn’t have taken off.”
“Jackson, women are pregnant every day and they go about their lives. She was driving home. She hit a deer. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.”
Michael had always been the most sensible of all of them. That didn’t make Jackson any happier.
“If she would just drive the damn truck I bought her, she wouldn’t be in this mess,” Jackson thundered.
Last week he’d shown up at the house with a brand-new one-ton Ford pickup. It had good safety ratings, could easily handle any weather, and would have taken a hit from the deer without flying off into a ditch.
Had she been happy about the truck? Hardly. She’d ranted at him for an hour about his wasting money on ridiculously expensive gifts for her, and about how she wasn’t going to be bought by a spoiled billionaire.
He’d come back at her, telling her that she needed to learn how to say thank you and accept things when he gave them to her because he cared. The conversation had gone back and forth several more times before she’d stormed off. By the end of the “conversation,” he’d felt as if a few layers of his skin had been taken off. The makeup sex had been well worth the lecture, though.
Afterward, he’d thought the matter had been solved, but she’d stubbornly refused to drive the truck. He’d been close to driving her other car off a cliff so she’d have no choice, but he’d been trying not to be so controlling. Look where easing off her had gotten them now.
The doctors had warned her family that there was a chance neither she nor the baby would make it through the surgery. They had said not to give up hope, told them that Alyssa was fighting for her life, but there was internal bleeding.
Jackson wasn’t a praying man, but his head had been bent in prayer the entire flight home. There was no way he could lose this woman. Love wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d find again, but he was smart enough to realize how he felt about her was bordering on love. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needed her, and he missed her when she wasn’t there.
When Michael pulled up to the ER, Jackson sprang from the truck and dashed inside. It wasn’t hard to find Alyssa’s parents; they were surrounded by members of his own family.
“You made it home quickly, son,” Martin said as he rushed up and threw his arm around Jackson’s shoulders.
“Is there any further news?”
Jackson didn’t want to sit and chat, didn’t want to hear sympathetic noises from anyone. He wanted just the facts, wanted to know what was happening in surgery.
“No one from the medical team has been out for about an hour. We’re still waiting. Your brother just got here.”
“Spence?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why do they need a heart surgeon?” Jackson’s chest clenched at the news. His brother was one of the leading cardiothoracic surgeons in the country, quite a feat for a man so young. If he was here, something was definitely wrong.
“They’re trying to keep the baby inside her womb. It’s far too early for delivery. But even if they manage to stop the labor today, she will deliver before the baby’s ready. It appears there’s a problem with the baby’s heart.”
“Oh, my . . .” Jackson slumped into the seat behind him. Alyssa would be devastated if she lost her baby.
Jackson realized that he’d be devastated, too. Though the child wasn’t his, it was a part of Alyssa and she was now a part of his life. He couldn’t lose either of them.
“Mr. and Mrs. Gerard?”
Jackson turned as Spence walked out in his scrubs.
“Yes,” they said in unison as Spence approached.
“They’ve stabilized Alyssa,” he said, and her parents sagged against each other. Tears flowed down Teresa’s cheeks.
“But . . .” her father said, seeing the distress on Spence’s face.
“But we had to deliver the baby. It’s a girl,” he said, and he took a breath.
“Is . . . is she alive?” Teresa asked, a shudder racking her body.
“She’s in critical condition. She was born three months early so her heart’s not fully developed, and that places her at risk for a lot of complications. Alyssa won’t be awake for some time, and I need to go in immediately and try to stabilize the baby’s heart. I’ll need to have permission to do this.”
“Can’t it wait for Alyssa to wake up? I don’t want to make a wrong decision,” Teresa said, shaking in her husband’s arms.
“I’m afraid that if we wait, the baby won’t live long enough for her mother to meet her.” Spence spoke with confidence, clearly laying out the situation.
“What are the risks?” Donald asked.
“The risks are that the infant won’t make it off the table. She only weighs two pounds three ounces right now. She’s tiny and she isn’t fully formed, but she is fighting, just like her mother. If we can stabilize her heart, keep her in the NICU, I think she stands a real chance.”
Spence waited for Alyssa’s parents to process what he’d just told them.
“Do whatever you can,” Donald finally said. He moved to a chair and pulled his wife into his arms as she collapsed against him.
“I’ll have the nurse bring you the papers to sign.”
Without saying another word, Spence made eye contact with Jackson. Jackson could see clearly what his brother was telling him. Spence would fight with all he had to keep this child alive. Jackson nodded his thanks, struggling against the pressure building up in his chest. The waiting room was deathly silent.
The next few hours were going to decide the rest of their lives.
Pain radiated from just about every imaginable spot on Alyssa’s body. She was afraid to open her eyes—what if it made the pain get worse? And anyway, if she opened her eyes, she would have to face whatever news the doctors had for her.
Someone was speaking to her. Someone knew she was awake. She could hear the monitors buzzing, and she could hear voices whispering in her dark world. No. She would just refuse to look. If she managed not to look, this was nothing more than a bad dream.
But her fingers twitched. She wanted desperately to lift her hands and feel her stomach, to assure herself that her baby was still safe inside her body. But without lifting them, without feeling the bump that was supposed to be on her body, she knew beyond any doubt that the baby wasn’t there. She couldn’t feel the infant, couldn’t feel movement, couldn’t feel his or her heart beating inside her.
Tears leaked from her eyes.
No. She wouldn’t open her eyes. She wouldn’t face this day. If they told her that her child had died, she would give up the fight altogether—she wouldn’t care about her own life anymore. She just couldn’t lose a baby she’d grown so fond of, couldn’t let her child go before she’d even had a chance to hold it close to her heart. What cruel world would allow her to live while taking an innocent child?
“Alyssa, baby. Are you awake?”
&nb
sp; That was her mother, and her tone bespoke so much anguish. That only confirmed to Alyssa that she couldn’t wake up and face whatever they wanted to tell her.
“Alyssa, please wake up. Please open your eyes.”
She wanted so much to assure her mother that she was okay. But she wasn’t okay, so how could she look into her mother’s eyes and lie to her?
“Alyssa. Come on. Wake up so we can tell you about your daughter.”
This time Jackson spoke. What was he doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Alaska? It must be worse than she thought if he’d flown all the way back so soon. Or maybe she’d been in a coma. Maybe months had passed. A ray of hope shot through her. Maybe she’d delivered a healthy baby. But why would she hurt so much if that much time had passed?
But they said they wanted to tell her about her daughter. Jackson’s words finally registered. Jackson wouldn’t be so cruel as to say something like that if her baby wasn’t still alive.
A girl. She had a baby girl!
Slowly, Alyssa’s eyes opened, and she was grateful that the lighting in her room was dim. She turned her head and focused on her mother, who was sitting right beside her and holding her hand.
“Mama?” she croaked, her voice weak.
“Hi, baby girl,” Teresa said through her tears. “You don’t know how good it is to see your eyes open.” She rested her cheek against Alyssa’s for a brief moment.
“My baby?” That was all she cared about.
“You have a strong, beautiful daughter, Alyssa. She’s tiny, but she’s alive,” Teresa said, her lips forming a smile.
“Really?” Alyssa didn’t know whether she could believe her mom. Wouldn’t a mother say anything to get her daughter to fight for her own life?
“She’s alive, Alyssa,” Jackson said. “Spence performed surgery yesterday. He’s the best in his field. She came through the surgery beautifully, and she’s a fighter.” He wore a proud smile.
“Surgery? Why would a baby need surgery?” she asked, fear a constant inside her.
“There was a problem with her heart, but he fixed her, and her vitals are good,” he said.
“Have you seen her?
“Yes! She is so beautiful, just like her mother.”
Alyssa finally allowed herself to believe them, to hope that everything would be okay. She knew there was a long road ahead of them, but she felt a stirring of hope.
“Can I see her?” That’s all she wanted.
“Oh, baby. I know you want to see her,” Teresa said. “But you have to stay in bed right now, and she can’t leave the neonatal ICU. I have pictures because I knew you’d want to look at her.” She pulled up her phone and held it close for Alyssa to see.
Alyssa’s tears fell in rivers; why did her first view of her child have to be on a piece of glass? She needed to hold her, care for her. “She’s so small,” she gasped, running her finger across the screen.
“She is, but she’s strong, Alyssa. Don’t let her size fool you,” Donald told his daughter.
“You’re a grandpa,” Alyssa said. Her poor parents; they must be so worried, too.
“I sure am. I already passed out a whole box of cigars.”
“A baby girl.” Teresa sighed with wonder.
“Is someone with her?” Alyssa asked. “I don’t want her to be alone.” As her panic rose, her heart monitor began beeping.
“There’s someone with her at all times,” Teresa said, patting Alyssa’s hand, trying to calm her daughter back down.
“No, Mama. Not strangers. She needs her family so she knows she’s loved. So she knows she needs to fight.”
“I just came from there, Alyssa. I’ll go back right now,” Jackson said as he moved to her side and leaned down. “I’ll take care of her.” It didn’t occur to him to think he wasn’t family.
Alyssa looked into his eyes and wanted desperately to tell him not to let their daughter die. She needed to tell him this was his child he had to protect. But he leaned down, gently caressed her lips with his, then walked out of the room.
The moment was gone.
Exhaustion pulled her back into a restless sleep as her body fought to be strong again. Fought to heal so she could be the mother she needed to be.
Two weeks had passed, and each day Alyssa grew stronger. The physical therapy was hell, but she was doing it. Whatever they asked of her, she accomplished it, even when tears poured down her cheeks. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to be able to be with her daughter.
Because of the flu she’d picked up on top of her injuries, she hadn’t been able to visit the NICU yet. It killed her a little bit more each day.
Her daughter was now almost three pounds, and though she was unbearably tiny, the doctors assured Alyssa that she was doing exceptionally well. Once the baby reached four and a half pounds, if she was healthy and eating, her mother would be able to take her home.
Alyssa wasn’t sure whether she was ready for that. What if something went wrong? At least here she knew there was a competent staff to care for her child. At home, it would just be her. That was more frightening than she cared to admit.
Dr. Jarvis, her neonatologist, walked into the room. “Good morning, Alyssa.”
“Morning,” she mumbled back.
“I know this has been a rough haul for you, but you have every reason to smile today, because we are releasing you.”
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then Alyssa went from melancholy to hopeful in a heartbeat.
“Does that mean I get to see my daughter?” That was all she wanted.
“Yes, it does. Your flu is gone, your injuries are healing nicely, and your strength is back up. I want you to take it easy over the next couple of weeks, with no work for at least another month, but other than that you are free to go home. By the time your daughter is released, you should be in nearly perfect condition, so it will be no problem to care for her.”
“I just want to be with her.” Alyssa moved impatiently on her bed.
“I know. You’ve been more than patient. I’ll have the nurse come in and unhook these monitors, and then, after you’re dressed, we can have someone wheel you to your daughter. You can call whoever is picking you up to come and get you when your visit is over.”
Alyssa hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t want to leave her daughter. Yes, she wanted out of this bed, and wanted these wires to be yanked from her arm, but she couldn’t leave her baby behind. All her excitement at the prospect of finally seeing her daughter was tainted by the trauma of having to leave her.
“Thank you,” she said, trying not to show her depression.
After the doctor left the room, it didn’t take long for a nurse to come in, give Alyssa papers to sign, and lay out her clothes. Alyssa’s parents weren’t there, and she didn’t want to call them yet, so she dressed slowly, amazed by how much energy it took just to put on a pair of sweats and a shirt. This recovery might take a little longer than she wanted it to.
“Are you ready to meet your little princess?”
Alyssa gave the nurse a genuine smile.
“I’m way past ready.”
She was wheeled from her room for the final time, and not at all bummed to see the last of it. The room was beautiful, and the bed comfortable, but when someone was constantly coming in and drawing blood, or administering drugs, or checking your vital signs, it was impossible to get any decent sleep. She wished she could be home. Not that she really knew where home was anymore.
It wasn’t with Jackson. That had been only a temporary solution. Her apartment was ready, but it was empty, and to be alone was not what she wanted at all right now. She needed people around her to keep her spirits up.
“Here’s baby Gerard,” the nurse said when they arrived at the neonatal ICU, and Alyssa’s eyes filled with tears as she got her first look at her daughter. The infant lay in a tiny incubator, which kept her safe and helped ensure that she continued to live.
“Oh, she’s even smaller tha
n I pictured,” Alyssa exclaimed. She reached into the small side vent and touched the tiny fingers of her beautiful baby girl.
One of her fingers completely covered her daughter’s hand, making it disappear. How could Alyssa even hold her? She would surely break the precious child in two. How was it possible that her daughter could be so small and still be okay?
A little mask covered the baby’s eyes, and the tubes sticking from her small body looked so out of place. Something so beautiful, so perfect, shouldn’t have to struggle to live. It was heartbreaking.
“Now you can give her a name.”
Alyssa smiled at the nurse before the woman left her alone to bond with her daughter. She had decided not to name the baby until she saw her. She said she wouldn’t know her name until she looked into her tiny face.
“Angel. Your name is Angel,” she whispered without hesitation.
“That’s because she’s a miracle.”
Alyssa turned to find Jackson standing behind her, gazing down at their daughter with such a look of pure love in his eyes that Alyssa knew she couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.
He’d been at the hospital every single day, had visited with their daughter and filled Alyssa in on every milestone, no matter how small. He’d actually been the first person besides the medical staff who’d held Angel. The words had been on the tip of her tongue a hundred times—thousands of times, even—and yet she hadn’t told him yet that Angel was his little girl.
As she faced the incubator holding Angel—keeping her warm, guarding her, and helping her grow—more tears welled up in her eyes. She wanted to be selfish, wanted to keep her daughter all to herself, but she knew that wasn’t right. She knew that Jackson deserved to be a part of her life. He’d given so much of himself, loved his daughter without even knowing she was his.
He deserved to be told the truth, and that should have happened long ago. Despite the fear that nearly suffocated her, she took a breath and prepared to tell him. It was most likely far safer for her to tell him in public, where he wouldn’t scream and yell, where he wouldn’t tell her what a monster she was for not telling him sooner.
