I stared up at him unblinkingly, half in shock that he even knew that phrase because I’d never heard him utter it aloud before. Well, except when he was pretending to be John, but that wasn’t the real Gio; it was a mask he wore.
Allie kept her eyes trained straight ahead. “Yeah, uh-huh.”
The sliding doors opened, and we stepped inside the lift. When we reached the fourth floor, Allie relayed the situation to the person manning the triage desk, then left without another word.
“That was strange,” I mused, watching her retreat.
“Forgive me if I don’t have the mental capacity to be worried about Enzo’s wife right now,” Gio grumbled in response.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bellini, if you could please follow me.” A nurse in pink scrubs this time led us to a gurney and pulled the privacy curtain shut as Gio gently eased me onto the thin mattress.
With practiced movements, she looped two stretchy bands around my bare stomach, explaining that one of the affixed plastic components was to track fetal heart rate, the other to monitor contractions. A quick peek at the screen behind my head showed the line rising whenever I felt my belly harden, and lowering when the muscles relaxed, confirming what I’d feared all along. When I turned to Gio, his eyes were fixed on the same thing, his lips pulled down at the corners.
“Okay.” The nurse drew our attention to her. “Why don’t you tell me when you started to feel the cramping?”
“You mean the contractions,” I corrected, panting as another hit me hard enough to steal my breath away. “Because that’s what they are, aren’t they?”
Her reassuring smile never slipped. “Let’s try not to get ahead of ourselves here. Lots of moms who experience second-trimester contractions go on to carry their pregnancies to full term. We will do everything we can to slow things down, but I need some information first. Okay?”
Nodding, I pulled in a deep breath. “Okay.” Racking my brain, I tried to recall her question. Oh, right, how long. “An hour? Maybe more? They started off mild, but got stronger, more consistent as time went on.”
“You did the right thing by coming in. It’s always better to be on the safe side. Have you been experiencing any other symptoms like bleeding?”
Gio stiffened beside me, almost like he was afraid to hear my answer to that question.
“No.” I shook my head. “But I do have a stomach bug and got an IV at home to help with dehydration.”
The nurse’s eyebrows rose. “You had someone administer an IV at your residence?”
“We have a family physician on call,” Gio explained.
“Huh, interesting.” She tapped away on her tablet. “Dehydration has been known to cause preterm labor, so it’s entirely possible you simply need more fluids. We can get those hooked up while we continue to monitor you and baby, and hopefully”—she lifted a hand to cross her fingers—“that’ll do the trick. But we’ll do a full workup, just in case.”
She left to get the supplies to administer my second IV in as many hours, and all I could do was stare down at my bump. Trailing my fingertips over the firm edge of the swell, I silently spoke to the baby inside my belly.
As much as I can’t wait to meet you, sweet boy, Mama needs you to stay inside for just a little while longer.
Chapter 15
Gio
“I’mgoingtoneedyou to say that again,” I barked at the doctor who’d arrived at the private suite Rory now occupied to share the results of her bloodwork.
The Midwest’s premier double board-certified obstetrician gripped her tablet tighter, clearly annoyed by my overbearing attitude, but I didn’t give a fuck. My child’s life was on the line, and if the information she was giving us was correct, this whole ordeal hadn’t been Mother Nature’s doing.
“Mr. Bellini, for the third time, we found trace amounts of a synthetic oxytocin in your wife’s bloodstream, which is what we typically administer throughout the course of an induced labor. It more than explains why she was experiencing preterm contractions and also why they’ve stopped, since it requires a steady infusion to be most effective.”
“And you’re sure it couldn’t have been from something she ate?” I pressed.
Dr. Mohr sighed. “That’s simply not possible.” Consulting her tablet, she continued, “Her chart mentions she received an IV prior to coming in. My best guess is that’s how the medication got into her system.”
“Son of a bitch!” The expletive was roared as I spun around and put my fist through the nearest wall.
“Sir!” the doctor cried in outrage. “I understand this is upsetting news, but you can’t destroy hospital property!”
Humorless laughter spilled from my lips as I lifted a finger and twirled it around. “I practically own this fucking hospital. If I want to put a hole in the wall, I’ll damn well do it.”
“Gio.” Rory’s soft voice could barely be heard over the rush of blood roaring in my ears.
