“I’m sorry. I can’t keep my eyes open,” she murmured.
“Go back to sleep, sweetie. Just let yourself rest.”
When she woke up again, she was in a different room, and Ava was still by her side.
“There she is,” Ava sang, just like they did when either of them went to get Sam out of his crib after a nap. “How are you feeling?”
Aine didn’t feel much of anything except tired. She tried to roll to her side, and that’s when she felt pain.
“Don’t do that,” scolded Ava. “You almost rolled on your incision.”
“Tell me again what happened.”
“You had surgery, sweetie.”
“I know that part.”
“The surgeon removed a large mass on your right ovary and three smaller ones on the left. He said you must’ve been in considerable pain. Why didn’t you say anything?”
Aine rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Ava leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek.
When she opened her eyes again, Striker was sitting in the chair where Ava had been.
“Where’s my sister?”
“Razor insisted Ava take a break. I think he took her home to spend some time with Sam.”
“You don’t have to stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She tried to shift into a position that was more comfortable but couldn’t find one. Striker stood and picked up a pillow that was sitting on one of the other chairs.
“Let’s try this,” he said, tucking it under her right side. “Better?”
“It is. Thank you.” Her eyes drifted closed. “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.”
“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered as he ran his fingers through her hair.
She remembered him doing that in the SUV on the way to the hospital.
“Why are you here, Griffin?” she whispered right before she closed her eyes.
In her dream, he told her it was because he loved her.
—:—
Striker studied Aine as she slept. How had he not realized the dark shadows under her eyes and the pained expression he caught a couple of times were indicators that something was wrong? If he had, he might have been able to convince her to see a doctor before it became an emergency.
He smoothed her blonde hair, thankful that Razor had gotten her to the hospital so quickly and that she was going to be okay.
He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them, Aine was looking at him.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said again.
“I told you before that I’m not going anywhere.”
They both turned their heads when the door opened.
“Look who’s finally awake,” said the nurse who set a laptop on the bedside tray table and checked the various monitors in the room.
“How would you rate your pain?” she asked.
Aine shifted to sit up straighter and winced.
“I can’t help alleviate it if you don’t answer me honestly,” the woman scolded. She walked over and wiped a name from the dry erase board and wrote hers instead. “My name is Paula, and I’ll be your nurse for the next ten hours. Drew, the LPN, will be helping me. Tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?”
“Seven.”
The nurse pulled a cord from the side of the bed. “You can give yourself pain medication by pressing this button. It’ll only allow a certain amount per hour, so if you need more, all you have to do is let me or Drew know.”
Striker watched, but Aine didn’t press the button.
“Are you hungry?” the nurse asked.
“Not really.”
She nodded. “I’ll be back in a little while to check your incision. Oh, and I saw the doctor. He should be in shortly.”
After entering a few more things into the computer, she left.
“Try to go back to sleep,” Striker said, taking her hand in his.
“I feel like that’s all I’ve done.”
“It’s what your body needs.”
“Ava told me I had a mass on my ovary.”
Striker nodded.
“That’s all I remember.”
“The nurse said the doctor will be in soon. I’m sure he’ll answer any questions you have.”
“Good,” she murmured.
Striker picked up the cord with the pain med button at the end of it. “There’s no reason you should suffer. Use this, Aine.”
“After the doctor has been in. I don’t like feeling so out of it.”
“Fair enough.” He tucked the cord next to her body. “What about food?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat.”
Aine took a deep breath and focused her gaze on him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m wondering why you’re here.”
“Because I want to be.”
“I can’t imagine the most important thing you have to do is sit at my bedside and pester me about eating or about drugging myself up so much that I don’t know what’s going on.”
Striker smiled. Feisty was good. His experience was that it was indicative of a person feeling better. At least somewhat.
“Where’s my phone?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” Striker stood and looked around, but didn’t see it. He walked over to the closet and found a drawstring bag containing her belongings. When he opened it, he found both her phone and a smaller plastic bag containing her jewelry. He took the bracelet he’d given her for Christmas out, walked back over, and handed her the phone. She typically wore the bracelet on her right arm, but since that’s where they’d placed the IV, he fastened it on her left wrist.
Aine looked at the bracelet and then at him.
“I like seeing it on you,” he murmured, rubbing her wrist with his thumb. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out the compass she’d given him for Christmas. “I never go anywhere without this.”
Before she could ask why, the door opened and the doctor came in.
“Do you want me to wait outside?” he asked. He was about to stand when Aine tightened her grasp on his hand.
He leaned in closer. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”
“Please,” she whispered and Striker nodded.
The doctor sat in one of the other chairs near the bed. “Do you remember me?” he asked. “I’m Dr. Stevens. We met in the emergency room.”
Aine nodded. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
“You needed emergency surgery.”
“Yes,” she murmured with wide eyes.
The doctor looked from her to Striker and then down at the chart. “I didn’t ask before, but are you Aine’s husband?”
“A friend,” Striker told him.
The doctor took a deep breath. “I’m afraid what I have to share with you isn’t good news.”
Aine’s grasp on Striker’s hand tightened more.
“We weren’t able to save your right ovary. The mass was too large.”
Striker watched her nod.
“On the left side, you had several smaller cysts, which also compromised the integrity of the ovary.”
“What does that mean?”
Dr. Stevens took another deep breath and looked between her and Striker. “I cannot guarantee that you’ll be successful with any future attempts at pregnancy.”
Striker put his other hand on top of hers.
“Do you have any questions?”
Aine shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she whispered.
“I need to check your incision.” The doctor pulled the sheet and blanket away from her abdomen and moved the hospital gown out of his way. The area was covered by a bandage that he also removed.
Striker looked at Aine. Her eyes were closed, and a single tear ran down her cheek. He wished the doctor would hurry up so he could pull her into his arms and comfort her. He knew how much she wanted to have
children. It was one of the main reasons he’d ended things with her to begin with—he knew the risk was far too great for him to be the father.
His own heart had broken at the decision he’d come to; he knew full well how she must be feeling, hearing the doctor’s prognosis.
“We should have the results of the biopsy in the morning,” the doctor said as he recovered her wound.
“Biopsy?” Aine asked.
“I’m fairly sure the masses were all benign, but we’re running the tests anyway to be certain.”
When the doctor left, Aine removed her hand from Striker’s, adjusted the gown, and drew the sheet and blanket up. She pressed the pain button and closed her eyes.
“I need to talk to Ava,” she said, opening her eyes and looking for her phone.
“Would you like me to step out while you speak with her?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be right outside the door.”
“I’d rather you leave.”
He sat down on the side of her bed. “As I told you before, I’m not going anywhere.”
When he tried to take her hand again, she yanked it away and then winced with the pain the motion caused.
“I want to be alone,” she said, trying to blink away the tears brimming her eyelids.
“Call Ava and then we’ll talk.”
Before she could argue, Striker stood and walked out of the room.
Once the door closed behind him, he called Razor.
“What up?” he said, answering Striker’s call.
“Aine got some bad news. The doctor just told her he doesn’t think she’ll be able to have children.”
“Fuck,” Razor muttered. “I think Avarie’s talking to her now. She’ll want to come back over there.”
“I figured she would. Aine just told me she wants to be alone, but I’m not leaving. I’ll sit outside the door if my being in there agitates her too much.”
“Appreciate it,” said Razor. “I need to go. Ava’s hanging up.”
Since Striker knew Aine was no longer talking to her sister, he went back into the room. When he saw her crying, her arms wrapped around her stomach, his heart broke.
She looked over at him. “I told you I want to be alone.”
“I don’t care,” he answered, closing the distance between them. This time, Striker didn’t sit on the bed, he stretched out next to her. He put his arm behind her head and pulled her close. “Just cry it out,” he murmured, kissing her forehead.
When Aine buried her face in his chest, Striker closed his eyes and rested his head against hers.
He had no idea how much time passed while he held her as she cried. When he heard the door open, he expected to see Ava. Instead it was the plumber.
Striker sat up, but stayed seated on the bed.
“Stuart, what are you doing here?” Aine asked.
“When I heard what happened, I caught the next plane back.” The man looked at Striker. “Could you give us a minute?”
“Aine?”
“It’s fine, Striker.”
“I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
18
Aine nodded and watched Stuart follow him, making sure the door was closed tight.
“I guess he’s a lot more than a friend after all.”
“I got some bad news,” she said, wishing she hadn’t. She wasn’t ready to talk to anyone other than Ava about what the doctor had told her.
Stuart sat in the chair by the bed. “What was it?”
“I know you’re angry—”
“What was the news, Aine?” he repeated, louder than necessary.
“Everything okay?” asked Striker, sticking his head inside the door.
“It’s okay,” Aine told him, and he closed the door. “What you saw was Striker comforting me.”
He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “What was the news, Aine?”
She folded her arms, not appreciating that he was demanding she talk about something she obviously wasn’t ready to. Instead of answering, she scooted up straighter and pressed the button for the pain medication. She cleared her throat, giving herself another few seconds to be sure she wouldn’t regret what she was about to say.
“I won’t be able to have children, Stuart. The surgery…well, that’s what the doctor told me.”
“I see. I’m sorry, Aine.”
“I’m sorry too.” She waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. “I’m very tired, Stuart. I think you should go.”
“I understand,” he answered as he stood. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I appreciate it. I’m sorry you flew all the way back here.”
“I get that things aren’t going to work out with us, but it doesn’t change the fact that I care about you, Aine.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “Goodbye, Stuart.”
“Goodbye, Aine,” he responded, turning and walking out of the room.
Striker came back in before the door closed. “That was quick.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “There wasn’t much to say.”
He sat down on the side of her bed. “Did you tell him what the doctor said?”
Aine nodded. “It’s for the best. Having a family is important to him.”
“He left because you can’t have children?”
“No. I’m just saying it’s for the best that we broke up.”
The door opened, and Ava came in, rushing over to the bed. While her sister hugged her, Aine watched Striker walk out the door.
“I want you to tell me exactly what the doctor told you. Word for word.”
—:—
“What the hell happened?” asked Razor, who was waiting in the hallway.
“With?”
“Stuart. What was he doing here?”
“I assumed you called him. He said he heard what happened and caught the next plane back.”
“Wasn’t me. How long has he been here?”
Striker shrugged. “Five minutes?”
“Quick visit. He blew right past me. Didn’t say a word.”
“When he came in, I was lying on the bed, next to Aine.”
“Something I should know?”
Striker shook his head. “I was comforting her. That’s all.”
“Were you there when the doctor told her?”
Striker nodded.
“He said she can’t have children? No possible way?”
“No, not definitively. Just that the odds are against her.”
“Ironic.”
Striker wished he could tell Razor to shut the fuck up.
“This changes things.”
“How so?”
“She’s in the same boat you are.”
“It isn’t the same thing at all.”
“You could adopt.”
“You can’t be serious. What do you expect me to say? Hey, Aine. Remember what I said about not being able to be with you? That’s all changed now that I know you can’t have kids.”
Ava came out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“How’s she doing?” Striker asked, surprised to see her so soon.
“Miserable. She asked me to tell you to leave.”
“She’s already asked me herself, several times. As I told her, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Her behavior made me realize something.”
“What’s that?”
“Is this why you ended things with her, Striker? Did you find out you couldn’t have kids, or decided you didn’t want to?”
Striker looked up at Razor, who shook his head. “Don’t look at me.”
“Why didn’t you just tell her the truth?”
Before he could answer, Ava walked away.
“I didn’t say a word, dude,” Razor told him, holding up his hands.
“I didn’t say you did.”
“I gotta catch up with her.”
Striker watched Razor walk away and took a deep breath befo
re opening the door to Aine’s room.
“Why won’t you leave?” she cried when he walked back over to the bed.
“I can’t.”
“You can.” She tried to hide her tears by covering her face with her hands.
Striker sat on the side of the bed and took both of her hands in his, pulling them away from her face. “Remember before, when I told you we would talk after things settled down?”
“Yes.”
“I think we should do it now.”
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t tell him to leave again either.
“A few minutes ago, you told me you thought it was for the best that you and Stuart broke up.”
Aine nodded.
“Because you know how important having a family is to him.”
“That isn’t why I broke up with him, Striker.”
“I know that, but it’s how you felt after the doctor told you that you might not be able to get pregnant.”
“Where are you going with this?”
He hoped he was doing the right thing, but he’d started, so he had to finish.
“Earlier this year, I got a call saying my sister had died.”
Aine nodded.
“The man who called me was her doctor. Pam, that was her name, had been seeing him for about a year, trying her damndest to get clean.”
“I’m sorry, Griffin.”
He smiled. “I like hearing my name on your lips.”
She smiled a sad smile too. “Go on.”
Striker took a deep breath. “He told me that, prior to that, Pam had almost overdosed. That’s when he became her doctor. He said that while she was in the hospital, he ran some tests that led to him diagnosing her with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.”
Striker closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, knowing he had to force himself to tell Aine the rest.
“As you might guess, Pam later relapsed, and it was finally too much for her body to take.”
“You don’t have to go on,” Aine murmured. “I can tell this is very hard for you to talk about.”
“I haven’t told you the most important part. He asked me if I’d ever been tested. I told him that I hadn’t, and he suggested I might want to.”
Aine tightened her grip on his hands.
“He went on to say that in the year he treated Pam, he found out quite a bit about our family, and while he couldn’t be certain, his guess was that our mother suffered from the same illnesses.”
Striker (K19 Security Solutions Book 6) Page 13
