“Good, let’s go.”
“Thank you.” Forty minutes later, I smiled at the hostess who’d just served me a drink. Flying first class was great, taking my uncle’s private jet, even better. A luxury I intended indulging in when the time was right. We were by no means lacking in status when compared to my uncle’s family name but with twins on the way, my life was about to change, which meant I needed to tier priorities accordingly.
“How’s Krisha doing?” Drake asked.
I glanced away from the cloud-peppered blue sky outside the window. “Her doctor seems to have the high blood pressure under control. Still, there are good days and bad ones.” I exhaled a slow breath. “I haven’t admitted this but having grandma around has been a huge help. There are days I’m just too distraught watching Krisha uncomfortable or in pain. Grandma’s been a pillar of strength to the both of us.”
“You’re almost there.” My uncle, the man I’d looked up to in my father’s absence, gave me an understanding smile.
“I guess.” I swirled my drink before taking a sip. “Her doctor tried to schedule a cesarean. Krisha is adamant she wants a natural birth.” The pregnancy had taken its toll, more so on her. I stared out the window, wondering for the umpteenth time if it was wise to leave her during this critical time.
“You needed to do this, Trent.” Drake drew my attention as though reading my mind. “You’ve wanted to open a restaurant since you were twelve. I still remember the first time your mother helped you pretend Christmas dinner was taking place at some fancy restaurant.”
“Yeah.” I laughed, remembering how I’d pestered my mother to let me do the setup that year and despite her reluctance, she’d relented. I’d subsequently shocked not only her but all fifty guests that evening by bringing a winter forest into our dining room. Drake was right and this was my chance.
Over the years, I’d searched for a small family-owned restaurant that wasn’t only popular with the locals but tourists as well. The idea was to build into the whole family-orientated dynamics while adding my flair to the design, menu, and setup with the help of the existing owner. A touch of old and new. It had to be an established restaurant and hugely trusted to deliver on service offerings. After a year of procrastinating, the right offer fell into my lap. The owner was ready to sign given he’d lost his only son and at his age, too sickly to continue the family tradition. I’d presented the idea to him during a family retreat to Brenton but never got round to finalizing the discussion. Because like Krisha stated so emphatically every time she could. I was chickenshit to venture into something I was inexperienced at. Both she and Drake pushed me until I called the old man, who was on the verge of signing it over to someone else.
“Congratulations, you’re officially a restauranteur.” Drake clapped me lightly on the back a couple of hours later. “And looks like you’re moving to Brenton.”
I surveyed the restaurant we stood outside and smiled. “I’ve done it, Krish,” I whispered. “Now comes the easy part, I guess.”
Laughing, Drake nodded to the driver of our waiting car. As I followed him into the vehicle, my phone buzzed. Fishing the device out of my pocket, I panicked as Krisha’s number flashed across the screen. “Krish?” I answered in a rush, dread squeezing my insides.
“Trent, you need to come home, quick. Krisha’s been admitted,” my grandmother’s worried words spilled across the line and with it the oxygen to my lungs fishtailed, leaving me breathless.
My fingers tightened around the phone. “What happened?” I failed to keep the telltale tremble out of voice, drawing Drake’s immediate frown. “She wasn’t supposed to get out of bed.”
“She’d gone to the bathroom then complained of pain. Easton drove her to the hospital,” she explained referring to Krisha’s brother. “Trent?” I could hear the fear in that single word. “She was bleeding.”
“No!” My heart crashed against my chest this time taking my ability to think. I shook my head, trying to breathe.
Drake took the phone from my clenched fingers. His words became a blur as sweat pooled in my armpits and clammy fingers bit into my bouncing knee. I glanced at my uncle through the sudden tears as he cut the call. Words weren’t needed, his expression said it all.
“Drink,” he ordered, shoving bottled water into my hand when my chest heaved for the third time and I pulled in deep breaths to prevent the threatening nausea.
****
“I’M SORRY, TRENT, KRISHA’Sin a critical condition. She doesn’t have much time.”
I shifted my blank stare from the floor to Krisha’s doctor. By the time we’d landed and gotten to the hospital, she’d delivered the twins. My excitement at seeing them came to an abrupt halt when Dr. Gina walked out of the delivery room asking to speak to me, her expression grave. Now, she stood a few feet from me with Drake, Easton, and grandmother at my rear after I’d indicated it was okay to speak in front of them. “I don’t understand. You told me you had the blood pressure under control.” Anger laced the words I forced out through my clenched jaw. Pain from having gnashed them together all through the flight back radiated through my face and down my neck, tightening every moving muscle.
“It wasn’t the blood pressure.”
“What are you saying?”
“The internal bleeding was too much, whatever we tried, wasn’t enough. Perhaps if she’d allowed us to go with the cesarean...” She trailed off. “We’ve got a specialist flying in to assist. He’s handled cases like this before. But I’m afraid he might not make it in time and she’s barely conscious.”
The warm blood running through my veins turned icy at the notion hitting me full frontal. “A-are you saying my wife is d—dying?” I struggled to get the words out. Next to me, Drake touched my arm, gently squeezing. I shook my head. “It can’t be.” I dropped my head forward, pinching the bridge of my nose, hoping to stop the tears but they burned the back of my lids, relentless and unforgiving.
“I’m sorry. I tried,” Dr. Gina repeated, her sigh heavy. “But Krisha knew the risk. I warned her from the onset there’d complications with her delivery if she went with the natural birthing.”
My brain stopped processing for a moment, every part of my body frozen while my thoughts tried to catch up, tried to comprehend what Dr. Gina had just said. “She knew?” The doctor nodded. “But...” the words wouldn’t come. “Why?” I choked out the single word.
“She knew how much you wanted a baby, Trent.” My grandmother touched my arm. I turned to look at her. “After that first miscarriage, this pregnancy was more important to her than her life. It was why she endured it all. To give you the children you wanted.”
My heart stuttered, threatening to stop beating. I remembered her devastation when we’d lost our first child three months into the pregnancy, more so when the doctor informed us Krisha would never fall pregnant again. She’d just finished school and although the news shocked us, we’d already begun planning our lives together.
“This is not what I wanted, not—” Pain crushed my windpipe, strangling my words.
