There’d been a time in Vincent’s life where his Monday night routine had brought on guilty feelings. A meek, non-confrontational facet of his personality insisted that if he could just accept that his place in life was to feelwrong,then he wouldn’t have had to suffer in the way he had. Beneath Melissa’s thumb, he could have had a nice enough life. Nikki would have been happy to see her parents stay together and maybe, someday, to have become a big sister. Their busy lifestyles and lucrative careers as medical doctors would have assured Nikki all the comforts she could want—a nice house, a stellar education, access to extracurricular activities, connections that would set her up for life… and Vincent still felt remorse over having jeopardized those advantages for his own sake, but to remain shackled in a body that failed him on an intensely emotional and spiritual level would have deprived Nikki of what she needed the most.
Her father.
Vincent finished drawing the medication. He set the bottle aside, then tilted the syringe back and twisted off the needle. Delicately, he placed it on the tray and unwrapped the needle with the finer point, then screwed it into place. When it was locked in, he tapped the barrel a few times, dislodged the air bubbles from inside, and psychologically prepared himself for the injection.
Vincent wasn’t afraid of needles. He wasn’t squeamish, like so many of his patients were. Blood, gore, and infection didn’t bother him as much as they did the general population—medical school had desensitized him to almost everything, and what he hadn’t become accustomed to during his rotations, he’d learned to block out while working with the public during his days as a private practitioner, and then again once he’d taken on work with Synecta and their CCO team. That said, there was always a psychological snag when he performed an injection on himself—a hang-up that made him hesitate before seeing the injection through.
Was he making the right choice?
The question always stopped him, if only for a second, but it always had the same answer.
Yes.
Vincent took a breath that filled him all the way to his stomach. Then, as he slowly let it out, he performed the injection. As he did, he affirmed that the alpha he embodied was valid, and that this choice had enabled him to care for Nikki as he never would have been able to before. Even without Melissa, he could afford a nice house, a top-of-the-line education for his daughter, and every little thing she could ever need to thrive.
It was better that she have both parents happy and healthy while separate than a husk of a father who couldn’t be there for his own needs, let alone hers. No matter what Melissa thought, no matter the vitriolic rumors or lies she spread about him in the medical community back home, this was what he needed. There was no going back from his truth.
The doorknob turned, then rattled. Injection complete, Vincent removed the needle from his thigh, then laid the spent syringe on the tray.
“It’s Monday night, Nikki,” he said as he selected the spot adhesive bandage from the tray and peeled back the wrapping. A small bead of dark blood marked the injection site—it would heal soon enough, but until then, Vincent preferred to keep it covered. “I’ll be out in another five minutes. Please give me some time.”
“You don’t understand.” Nikki rattled the doorknob again. “Ihaveto come get you. Mal can’t get up from the couch, and he says that he needs to go to the hospital now. The babies are coming.”
Oh.
Oh.
Alarmed, Vincent slapped the bandage over his injury and rose from the bed. He tugged on his pants on the way to the door, then fumbled as he unlocked the mechanism. When at last he opened the door, he found Nikki standing on the other side, her face white and her arms wrapped tightly over her chest.
“I’m sorry that I had to interrupt you, Daddy,” she mumbled, looking at her feet. “But Mal asked, and he needed help, so…”
“You did a good thing, Nikki.” Vincent kissed the top of her head. His nerve endings buzzed in anticipation of the delivery—of meeting Mal’s newborns for the first time.Theirnewborns. “Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Do you remember what we did to prepare for tonight?”
Nikki nodded. “We put Mal’s comfiest clothes and stuff in a bag by the door, and we called Alex and Laurence to ask if I could go stay with them for a bit while Mal has his babies.”
“Right.” Vincent held out his hand, which Nikki took and squeezed. “So the first thing we’re going to do is check to see if Mal is okay, and then the next thing we’re going to do is calmly load the car and get Mal comfortable in the passenger seat. After that, we’re going to call Alex and Laurence to let them know we’re on our way.”
“Calmly,” Nikki said sagely. “We need to be really calm so we don’t upset Mal or the babies.”
“You got it, sweet stuff.” Vincent squeezed her hand, then guided her down the hall to the stairs. “We did forget one last important preparation, though…”
“My bag!” Nikki gasped. She pulled her hand from Vincent’s and scampered toward her room, then stopped and looked over her shoulder, crestfallen. “I’m sorry. No running. I need to be calm when I get my bag, don’t I?”
Vincent resisted a laugh. “Yes.”
“I can be calm.” Whether Nikki meant it for his ears or her own, Vincent wasn’t sure. “I can be super calm. Thecalmest.Way calmer than Michael or Sara.Socalm.”
Michael and Sara, her new friends from Crossroads, were every bit as enthusiastic aboutHeaven, Lockedas Nikki was. On play dates, Vincent commiserated with their parents about their obsession. At least, they’d all concluded,Heaven, Lockedwas an entertaining show.
Nikki slipped through her door without a sound, then returned a moment later with her travel bag slung from her shoulder. It was stuffed with clothing and comfort items, curated by Vincent, who’d decided that Nikki would be better off with a familiar blanket than the eight pairs of pants she’d originally wanted to bring for her overnight stay at the Gwynn household.
In her hand, she clutched a rolled poster. Vincent furrowed his brow. “Nikki? What is that?”
“It’s a poster,” Nikki said sincerely, thinning her voice like she was hiding something.
“Why are you bringing it with you?”
“Because…” Nikki pinched her shoulders to her neck and tensed, then blurted out her reasoning so quickly that Vincent wasn’t sure she’d remembered to breathe. “Because I really want Matthew to see it because we talk a lot aboutHeaven, Lockedand I told him about my posters and he’d already seen a lot of them but I know he hasn’t seen this one and I really,reallywant to show it to him, Dad.”
