“I can’t help you. Not right now. Come back in a couple of months when everything has quietened down, and we can talk then.”
“This is bullshit.”
“It is what it is.” His tone is final. Damn. I’ve wasted a fucking hour on this call with nothing to show for it.
“Thanks anyway. I’ve got to go.” I hang up before I can say something I regret. As the call vanishes from the screen, a bunch of text fills it, and my blood freezes. A missed call from Ashlin, a voicemail, and two missed calls from Harley, along with a text.
Harley:Ashlin at hospital. Come soon.
Oh, fuck.
Something is wrong, and I’ve been so wrapped up in work that it’s taken me forty minutes to see the message. I’d heard notifications while I’d been in the call, but I’d assumed they were nothing important. I mentally berate myself. Heart in my throat, I call Ashlin back.
Harley answers on the second ring. “About fucking time.”
“What happened?”
“She started bleeding while she was at work. Called an ambulance. They’re checking her out now. Where have you been?”
“On a call. Which hospital is it?” She gives me the name and address. “I’ll be there soon. Text me if you learn anything.” I rush out of the office into the gym and shove a set of keys at a startled Jimmy. “Lock up when you finish. I have to go.”
He takes a look at me and blanches. “Everything okay?”
“No, but I don’t have time to explain.”
He nods. “Got it.”
The trip to the hospital seems to take forever. Every set of traffic lights that turn red make me want to punch someone. Don’t they know that time is vital? I can’t lose our baby, or Ashlin, again. I park in the basement and take the elevator to the ground floor, where I’m forced to wait at reception for two other people to speak to the receptionist ahead of me. I glance at my watch. Time is ticking away. Is my girl okay? I haven’t heard anything from Harley, and I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.
When it’s my turn, the words pour out of me in a rush. “I’m here for Ashlin Isles. I’m her husband.”
The receptionist taps a few keys on the computer and checks the screen. “Your wife is in room 306.”
“Thank you.” I hurry away and take the stairs to the third floor, knowing I can get myself there faster than an elevator can. When I reach room 306, I spot Ashlin lying on a bed in a hospital gown with Harley standing beside her, holding her hand.
I shove the door open wider. “Ash, baby, are you okay?”
She glances up, but her eyes don’t focus on me. Her pupils are pinpricks, which I know from experience usually indicates a shock reaction. Harley steps out of the way so I can approach her. I note Devon in the periphery of my vision, but all that matters is the pixie in the bed. Her cheeks are too damned pale for my peace of mind. I envelop her hand with mine, and kiss her forehead.
“Tell me you’re all right,” I plead.
She shakes her head, eyes still struggling to focus. “I don’t know. There was blood. What if…” She bites her lip, tears welling in her eyes. “What if we lose the baby?”
“Don’t even go there.” I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss the back of it. “Everything is going to be okay.”
The door swings open and a doctor enters. He glances at me. “You must be the daddy.”
“That’s right.” I swallow.Daddy. I want badly for that to be true.Please don’t let anything have gone wrong. Silently, I curse myself. I should have been with her. Regardless of her desire for independence, I should have been keeping an eye on her. Protecting her.
“Let’s see how things look, shall we?” He pulls a curtain around us for privacy, blocking Harley and Devon out, then drapes a sheet over her lower body. I squeeze Ashlin’s hand as he inserts a wand inside her, my gut clenching as tears streak quietly down her cheeks. Finally, the doctor has an image up on the screen. A little flashing star. He shows us both, and smiles. “Good news. Your baby is healthy. That’s their heartbeat.”
“Oh, my God,” I exclaim, watching the faint pulse. Our baby is actually there. Knowing Ashlin is pregnant is one thing, but seeing the evidence of a new life… it’s magical.
“They’re okay?” Ashlin’s voice is a whisper.
“And looking exactly as he or she ought to,” the doctor assures her.
“Isn’t it amazing?” I murmur, and drop a kiss on her forehead.
