For the second time in a few minutes, his entire body seemed to stiffen, almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stop watching him as he clenched his jaw and then almost forcibly relaxed it.
“Oh, I doubt that. They’re a little young for trauma.” He maintained concentration on her hand, though he was holding the needle and not stitching. “Maybe I can arrange a visit from the local fire department instead. That fire engine is very popular with the kindergarten-age set. A firefighter friend of mine, Lance, loves showing it off.” He looked up at her, the tension still in his face, even as he smiled at her. “The kids love it.”
Annika paused a moment, trying to figure out what put that tiny bit of fear in his eyes. “Sure.” She finally managed. “The children would love that fire engine! Let’s make it happen.”
He grinned wide, the tension finally leaving his face and body. “Consider it done.”
Annika inhaled the scent of him, clean and fresh, mixed with the sharp scent of rubbing alcohol.
The combination was strangely comforting, maybe even familiar. Her eyes met his, and she was powerless to look away, her guard slipping just a bit more.
“So...I was pregnant.”
Daniel paused in his work, his mouth set in a line, but his eyes were warm, and he said nothing, waiting for her to continue. Her guard melted away, and tears prickled at her nose. Daniel was mid-stitch, and even in her state she could appreciate that he was conflicted between wanting to touch her and breaking sterile. Silence stretched between them while Annika gathered herself.
“With his baby.”
Daniel nodded, finished the last stitch, applied antibiotic ointment, and wrapped up her wound with gauze and a small splint.
“Initially, he was great. He proposed, and said he loved me and wanted a family with me.” She paused, forcing herself to speak with clinical detachment. “Five months ago, I had cramps and bleeding in the middle of the night. He drove me to the ER. By the time he parked the car and found me, I had...lost...” She shook her head and swallowed her unspent tears. So much for detachment. “I had been waiting for him, but when he got there, he—he—” She searched the room for the words she still couldn’t believe. “He broke up with me right in the ER. Said the only reason he proposed was to do ‘the right thing.’ And today, he acted like it was nothing!”
She thought about the hospital band that she always carried. It reminded her of the worst day of her life. Of that night. It reminded her that if she could survive that, she was stronger than she thought. But those damn tears burned behind her eyes again. They filled her eyes, though she was determined they not fall. “I was so stupid!” Well, so much for no tears falling.
His work finally done, Daniel pushed aside the suture tray, tossed his gloves and scooted his stool up to the edge of the bed where she sat. He was level with her, and he cupped her face with his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. Rough calluses rubbed against her skin, and it was all she could do to not melt into his tender touch right there.
“No, you were not stupid. He was.” Daniel moved closer. She could see the small brown flecks in the green of his eyes. She was so moved by the determination in them that she believed him.
“I felt like such a failure.” Tears were free-flowing. “I lost my baby, not to mention the man I thought I—” It was ridiculous to say the wordlovehere, because she could see clearly that what she and Steven had had was nowhere near love. She swallowed hard, and her next words came out of the sadness she’d been feeling for these past months. “You know, I didn’t even know I wanted to be a mother. I was always all about my career. Family would come in time, I kept telling my parents. But when I found out I was pregnant, I wanted that baby so bad. I wanted to be a mother. Then, when it was...all over, it was like the world continued and I was standing still. Stuck in that moment.” She could still feel that pit of despair in her belly from time to time.
Something flashed in Daniel’s eyes: recognition, sympathy, understanding? It was as if he knew how hollow she’d felt.
“It sounds ridiculous, I know,” she sniffled. Out of nowhere, Daniel handed her a tissue with his free hand. She half smiled her gratitude as she dabbed at her eyes.
“No.” His voice was low and gruff, as if he fought off emotion. “No, it’s not ridiculous. A loss...is a loss.”
Something in his voice—a hitch, or a momentary heaviness—made her catch his eye. “Did you lose somebody?”
He met her gaze with such sorrow Annika caught her breath. The slightest flick of his eyes and the moment was gone. “Just something I learned in my line of work.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m dumping all this on you now. We hardly know each other, and I know I should be past this by now.”
“That’s not true.” Daniel tipped her face up from where he still held her. “We know each other. We’re...friends, right?”
She nodded, but her heart sank just a bit. Sure. That was what they were. Friends.
“I mean, at least I know you well enough to know that any man who let you go is not in his right mind. And certainly breaking up with someone in the ER is probably one of the lowest things I’ve ever—” He paused, pressing his lips together before speaking. “Anyway, it’s horrible.”
He rolled his stool even closer to her. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her. “Listen, you lost a baby, someone you loved—you need to grieve. You shouldn’t feel ashamed or like less of anything. There’s no time line for these things. You did nothing wrong. It wasn’t your fault.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “And it was shitty of that asshole or anyone to make you feel like you were somehow at fault.”
She just stared at him, allowing his words to fill her and enter her heart and mind. Tears continued to fall, but she had no desire to stop them. She had been scared but excited to become a mother. No matter what the circumstances. She might have been pregnant only eight to ten weeks, but it was enough for her to start to make plans, see the future. It was enough for her to fall in love.
Daniel continued to wipe aside her tears with his thumb. He stayed firm and strong, his eyes never leaving hers as her tears fell.
“I...I feel so empty.”
He nodded.
“I...I...” She never finished her sentence, because she was flat-out crying. Daniel pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and held her while she sobbed. She was enveloped in comfort and strength and couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so safe.
