“You shouldn’t have said anything,” Riley mutters under her breath as Ciara scowls at me.
She follows closely behind me, or as close as her pregnant belly allows, as I bring Riley into the lounge and settle her on the couch.
“Mr. Sullivan,” Dr. Rogers greets with a somewhat clipped tone.
I can’t fault the guy for not being my biggest fan. After all, his only impression of me as a father so far is yelling at my pregnant wife and refusing to stand by her bedside while she had an ultrasound.
His eyes go to her. “How are you feeling, Riley?”
“Tired. And thirsty.”
“I’m going to hook you up with some fluids, which should make you feel a lot better.”
“Sounds good.” She leans back against the pillows as her eyes start to close.
Ciara stays beside Riley the whole time despite Ronan’s protests, keeping one hand resting lightly on Riley’s knee in silent support.
I perch on the back of the couch and gently stroke Riley’s cheek while Dr. Rogers works.
“She’s dehydrated,” he eventually says. “And is likely in mild shock. But the baby’s heartbeat is strong.”
At those words, Riley lets out a sob of relief as she looks up at me.
I force a smile, though I don’t feel like we’re out of the woods yet.
Maybe that’s just what it feels like to be a parent, having this constant nagging worry in the back of your mind. No wonder my father liked to drink so much.
“You’ll need lots of rest and to keep this wound clean and dry.” Dr. Rogers finishes wrapping a bandage around Riley’s arm. “It’ll leave a small scar, but it should fade over time.”
“Badass,” she mumbles, and I swallow a laugh.
“The real concern is exhaustion. You need food, warmth, and plenty of sleep.”
“She’ll have all of it,” I say before Riley can open her mouth.
“Riley, do you want me to stay with you for a bit?” Ciara asks gently, but Riley shakes her head.
“You should rest. You’re supposed to keep your blood pressure down. Plus, I don’t want Ronan to kill me.”
My brother huffs a laugh from where he hovers in the doorway, and I glance up.
For a moment, we lock eyes across the room and share a silent nod of understanding.
Ciara, Riley, and the three children who will soon join us, they are our number one priority. No matter what happens, we will always make sure they are safe.
Ciara hesitates, then leans over and presses a kiss to Riley’s forehead.
“You’re safe now, love. Don’t forget that.”
After Ronan finally manages to usher Ciara away, I scoop Riley into my arms and carry her upstairs to bed.
She murmurs something about being perfectly capable of walking, but I ignore her.
“You can yell at me later, little dove. Tonight, you don’t lift a finger.”
I settle Riley on the bed before heading into the ensuite bathroom where I run her a bath and pour in a handful of lavender bath salts. Soon enough, the room fills with steam that fogs up the mirror.
“You don’t have to do this,” Riley says.
