Struck (Flawed Love Book 3)

by Emma Louise

  As much as I'd like to not be here today, Poppy’s brother and his wife just had a baby, and this is me proving to my brother that I can give a shit about other people. If I'm being honest, it’s about proving it to myself too. Grabbing the small blue bear from the seat next to me, I get out and lock the doors behind me.

  Five minutes later and I’m lost. I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. I fucking hate hospitals. Too many sports-related ER trips as a kid. The smell alone is enough to make me wish I was anywhere else right now.

  Standing in a corridor full of closed doors, I’m five seconds away from going home. Or the bar. Anywhere that isn’t here.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” a voice growls from the side of me. Turning around I see a woman who's vaguely familiar stepping out of the small family room I just walked past. Her hard, angry eyes are trained on me as I look over my shoulder to see if she’s talking to someone else behind me, but it’s just us out here.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You’re not welcome here. I have no idea who the hell told you to come here—”

  Confusion turns to anger. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but her tone is pissing me off. She’s moved so she’s standing right in front of me. I’m a big guy, and there’s not a lot of full-grown men that would step up to me like this, but this tiny woman doesn’t give a shit. She has no problem getting in my face.

  “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but—”

  “Hey.” A nurse steps in between us both, her hands up ready to push either of us back if needed. “This is not the time or place for this. You both need to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving. This crazy person just attacked me for no reason,” I say, planting my hands on my hips.

  “You’re not welcome here. You’re not needed here. I can’t believe they fucking called you.” Her voice cracks, and she looks seconds away from tears, but she steels herself and keeps on speaking. “Anyway, you’re too late.” Whatever is going on is obviously hard for her. Taking her in now that she’s not in my face, she looks exhausted, like she hasn’t slept in days. She’s obviously going through some stuff, and seeing her about to break down calms my own anger. The nurse is still standing there between us, trying to decide if she needs to call security or not.

  “Look, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I’m just here to visit a friend who just had a baby.”

  “Friend,” she scoffs, interrupting me. “Wasn’t very friendly of you to abandon her when she needed you most.”

  “Okay, crazy lady, that’s enough. I’m out of here.” I turn to make my way down the corridor, stopping next to the nurse as I go. “You might want to get security down here for this one.” She looks between us once again, obviously having no idea what the fuck to make of the last few minutes.

  “Walking away again, TJ? Good at that, aren’t you?”

  My steps falter at her use of my name. Heat prickles at the back of my neck, almost like I can feel the anger in her stare. This whole thing is pushing my patience to its already frayed limits. I swing around, and within a few strides I’m back in her face.

  “How do you know my name, and what the fuck is going on?” I feel like I'm in a parallel universe right now. She doesn’t back down. No, this girl is fearless. Jaw ticking, feet planted in place, she leans back to look me up and down, not in the way women usually do, though. No, her gaze is full of disdain.

  “Willow was right about you,” she says with venom dripping from each word.

  Venom that I feel seep through me from where the words have landed. That name. I only know one woman with that name.

  Willow.

  I’ve spent months feeling like a prick over how I treated her.

  Willow, the one-night stand that haunted me. The one that was the wake-up call I needed. I can’t say I've thought about her much since I’ve been back on my feet. She’s a blur in my memories. Just like she was that night; I remember being with her, but it’s a shadow of a memory at best.

  “What does Willow have to do with this?”

  “Nothing anymore. Willow is dead,” she answers with tears leaking from her tired eyes.

  Shit.

  My eyes slide closed as I take in a deep breath. I don’t know how this makes me feel. We had one night. One fucked up night. I might not remember it in much detail, but I do know she used me as much as I used her. I might have been fighting demons, but she’d been fighting a few of her own. Opening my eyes, I see she’s staring at me. Her eyes assessing me, looking for something.

  “You didn’t know? I thought that’s why you’re here.”

  “I had no idea. I really am here to see a friend who just had a baby.” She seems to flinch slightly at my words. Her arms that are covered by a too big hoodie rap around her middle, like she’s curling in on herself.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say quietly, but she doesn’t give me a chance to keep speaking.

  “She’s dead.” Her voice cracks as she speaks the one sentence that I never expected to hear. The one sentence that completely rocks the ground beneath my feet.

  “She’s dead, but your son is alive and in the NICU”

  My son?

  The world dips and tilts on its axis. Whatever she sees on my face must let her know how fucked up I'm feeling because she actually looks guilty for blurting it out like that. She’s saying something, but all I hear is my blood rushing in my ears.

  My son. Is it possible?

  “Is he ... uh ... is he ok?” I ask the woman whose name I still don’t know, but it’s the nurse who speaks. She looks at me but directs her words to the lady that’s looking at me like she’s not sure what I'm about to do next.

  “Jessie, is this Abel’s father?” she asks softly.

  “Abel?” I ask stupidly. My son, Abel.

  I have a son, and his name is Abel.

  Jessie doesn’t say anything, just nods. I look back toward the nurse, and she looks at me with sympathy staining her expression.

  “He’s going to be fine. Abel is a strong boy,” she says, trying to reassure me. “Why don’t we go sit down, and I’ll tell you a bit more about how he’s doing?”

  “You said he’s fine, what else is there to tell me?” A wave of panic hits me from out of nowhere. Five minutes ago, I had no idea he existed; now I'm terrified something is going to happen to him.

  “Abel is going to be fine. Please, sit down, and I’ll explain everything to you.” She guides me to a chair, and Jessie sits a few seats away from me. The nurse introduces herself, telling me her name is Louisa and she’s been looking after Abel since he was born a few days ago by emergency c-section.

  “Willow came in because she’d been feeling unwell for a few days. After running some tests, the doctors decided it was best to deliver the baby right away. She had something called pre-eclampsia. Usually the baby being born is enough to bring down mom’s blood pressure, and they’ll feel back to normal pretty much straightaway. Unfortunately, Willow had a seizure a few hours after she was brought back from recovery. They did everything they could to help her.” I drop my head into my hands trying to listen as she speaks, but it’s too much. All of this is too much.

  Willow went through all that alone.

  The thought keeps running through my head. She must have been so scared. Louisa stands, telling me she’ll go find out if I can visit with Abel yet. When the door closes behind her, we’re left in silence. I have too many things fighting for space in my head, too many questions that need answering.

  “Was she alone?” I ask the room.

  “I brought her in and stayed with her,” Jessie speaks quietly. “She got to see Abel for a while, held him too. She was awake after the section, and I thought she was going to be okay.” More tears leak from her eyes. “Then she said she didn’t feel right, so the nurses came and took the baby so she could rest. I thought she was just tired. I was about to leave, let her get some sleep, but she started shaking. I don’t k
now what happened, but one minute she was there, the next she was gone.” Jessie sobs. The sound of it is killing me. Moving closer, I pull her into my side. I’m surprised she lets me after being on the receiving end of her anger earlier.

  “Why didn’t she tell me? Did she even try?” I have to ask. I can’t work out why Willow wouldn’t want me involved. Jessie sniffs as she pulls away from me. “It was a few months after you guys met that she realized she was pregnant. It took a long time for her to get her head around the fact that she was going to have a baby. Every time I told her she had to tell you, there was an excuse. She only had your first name and, in the beginning, said she couldn’t find you.” Jessie looks at me before she continues to speak; it’s as if she’s not sure if she wants to go on. “When she was about six months, she came home one day and told me she’d found you, but you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. She said she was going to do it alone. She doesn’t have family, so I told her we’d be okay, that I'd be there for them.”

  “I never saw or spoke to her.” Anger crowds my thoughts. I would have never, not in any situation, told her that. Why did she lie?

  “I guessed by your reaction that you didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. I’m sorry for attacking you like that. I just assumed.”

  “Don’t apologize for looking out for them. I don’t understand why, though? I admit I was drunk that night, but did I hurt her? What did I do to her?”

  Jessie doesn’t get to answer me before Louisa is back to tell me I can go see the baby. My baby. I’m on my feet and following behind her before I can think too much about how insane this whole situation is. There’ll be time to freak out later.

  Just before I leave the room, Jessie stops me. “You never asked.”

  Turning around I see she’s standing now, arms back wrapped around herself.

  “Asked what?”

  “You never asked if he’s definitely yours.”

  It never occurred to me that he might not be mine. The dates line up, but that means nothing. Willow could have been with anyone.

  “If Willow said he’s mine, then he is.” Jessie gives me a weak smile.

  It might make me an idiot, but I’m following my gut right now.

  Once I’ve scrubbed my hands and rubbed them with some antibacterial gel, I’m shown a crib in the corner of the dimly lit NICU room. I’m stuck in place, too fucking scared to walk any closer. There are machines and lights everywhere. There are only five other cribs in here, none have anyone sat at them, but they all appear to have babies.

  “Come on. Let's go meet your boy.” A nurse appears at my side, directing me to sit. When I get a glimpse inside the clear plastic, I'm glad I'm not on my feet anymore.

  I’ve been punched, real fucking hard, by some of the biggest guys out there. But nothing, not one thing, has ever hit me with as much force as seeing this tiny part of me in that crib does.

  He's tiny. The nurse tells me he’s almost five pounds, and that’s amazing for being born five weeks early, but to me, he’s too small. He's lying on his belly, tiny arms tucked up under his chest, legs bent at the knees. His head is covered by a knitted hat. The need to lift him out consumes me. To see his hands and feet. Check all his fingers and toes. To take his knitted hat off and run my hand over his head. I need to feel him, this perfectly formed but tiny human that these people are telling me I helped create.

  “You can touch him,” Louisa says as she checks the machines that surround him. “Just put your hands through that hole there.”

  I don’t move. I don’t know if I can do this, how I'm going to do this. Willow didn’t want me to be part of his life. She wasn’t planning to tell me about him. What if she was right? I know better than anyone just how much of a fuck-up I am.

  I’m about to get up and walk away when Abel opens his eyes. He blinks sleepily, mouth opening on a wide yawn. He blinks once, twice more before he looks at me.

  “Move closer, he can’t focus far right now. Let him see you,” Louisa urges me.

  “He doesn’t know me. I don’t want to scare him,” I whisper. “I’ve not been there for him, for his mom.”

  “That’s the amazing thing about babies.” She smiles at me. “They are a blank slate. He doesn’t know anything about mistakes made in the past, just the fact that you’re here now.”

  Moving my chair as close to the crib as possible, I take a few deep breaths before leaning closer to him. I gently place my hand in the crib next to his head, using my finger to stroke the back of his hand.

  Until this moment, I’ve been a mess of conflicting feelings. Shock and helplessness being the two most predominant, but the second his tiny fingers unfurl from the fist they were in to wrap around mine, everything stops. His glassy gray eyes lock on mine, and I have no idea if he can see me, but it doesn’t matter. I see him.

  I have no idea what the future holds. No idea how I’m going to do this, but I know I’m going to do everything this little boy needs me to do.

  “You’ll be able to hold him a little later. He’s pretty much regulating his own temperature now; Doctor Fernandes wants to see how he does over the next few hours.”

  “Hold him? I’m not—”

  “The best way for you guys to bond is for you to do as much skin on skin contact as possible. We’ll be here with you the whole time. You’re not alone,” Louisa assures me.

  I’m not going to be alone. I know my family will be there, it’s what we do. I just have no idea how to tell my family that I've fucked up. Yet again.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket with the hand that Abel isn’t holding, I unlock it. Ignoring the many missed calls and texts from Keir, I open the camera and take some pictures of him. My mom is going to want to see these as soon as I tell her about him.

  It’s not long before his eyes start to close again. When his grip on my finger loosens, I move my hand to rest on his back, mesmerized by the feel of his soft skin. The hypnotic, gentle rise and fall as he breathes.

  Pulling myself away from him is so fucking hard. I’d happily spend the rest of time sitting here with him, but I need my family here. I don’t want them to miss this.

  Letting Louisa know that I’ll be in the waiting room if Abel needs anything, I step out into the hallway. It’s then I realize Jessie isn’t there. I’ll have to make sure to find her and say thank you for everything she did for Willow and Abel. I’m sure part of her still hates me, but I’ll just have to prove her wrong by being the best father I possibly can be.

  Shutting the waiting room door behind me, I drop down into one of the empty chairs ready to call my brother. Maybe I should call my mom and dad first, but I’m hoping I can get him in my corner before I tell them. I have his name up on the screen and quickly press the call button before I can talk myself out of it. It barely rings twice before he answers. “You okay?” No judgement. Despite being a fuck for most of the last year, and letting him down again today, my brother’s first reaction is still to make sure I’m okay.

  “Where are you?” I ask, ignoring his question.

  “Just about to leave the hospital.”

  “I’m here. Inside the hospital.” Unexpected emotion fills me, choking the words I'm trying to say. I can’t do this over the phone. “Can you, uh ... Can you guys come back in here. I need you here.”

  I steel my emotions and tell him I'm at the NICU. He doesn’t ask any questions, only assures me he's headed back before he hangs up. Instead of waiting for them here in the waiting room, I go stand outside the NICU. Looking through the window, I can see his crib, but he’s so small I can barely make him out.

  The door at the end of the hallway pushes open, and Poppy rushes in, closely followed by Keir. Any other day I'd make fun of how she practically waddles down the hallway. Her pregnant belly is massive. I just don’t have it in me to joke right now.

  Poppy pulls me into a hug. “What’s going on? Why are you here?” she asks, and I have no idea where to start. Looking at my brother, I struggle to
find the words to tell him.

  “Just start at the beginning. Whatever is going on, we’ll help you,” Keir says, dropping a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Taking a deep breath, I tell them everything. From the time I left their house all those months ago. How I drove around until stopping in that bar. How I'd already been drunk when Willow and her friends, one I now realize was Jessie, had come into the bar. I tell them how she seemed as lost as me. I’d been looking to escape my feelings for Lucy, and Willow had her own problems she was trying to drown out. I tell them that I was so fucking drunk that I barely even remember us having sex. I recall waking up in my truck the next day, outside the bar with Willow already gone. That was a low point, even for me.

  Finally, I tell them about today. About the mind fuck that was walking into this hospital only to be confronted by Jessie with the news that I have a son. Poppy covers her mouth to stop a gasp falling out. Keir closes his eyes and his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say a word.

  “Is he okay? The baby?” Poppy asks, her eyes flitting over to the NICU sign on the wall.

  “He’s good, but he was born a few weeks early so has to stay in there while he grows some.” Swallowing down the lump that forms in my throat, I carry on. “Willow, his mom ... she ... uh ... she had something wrong with her blood pressure. Pre-something or other ... I don’t know.” I struggle to get the words out, the reality of them hitting me hard. “They delivered the baby early so they could help her get better, but it didn’t work. She died yesterday.” Poppy gasps, but I don’t see it because my brother wraps his arm around my shoulders before I even get the words out, like he knew what I was going to say. That’s all it takes for me to break. Tears that have been simmering inside me for the last few hours break free. I don’t recall the last time I cried, but today, it’s just all too fucking much.

  I cry for Willow. For how scared she must have been going through what she did all on her own. Not knowing she’d be leaving Abel.

  I cry for Abel, knowing he’ll have to grow up without a mom.

  I cry for me because I have no idea how the fuck I'm going to raise him on my own.