Page 58 of Blissful Devotion

“That’s our wife and baby. I assure you, I can.”

Her brows pull together, and I see her swallow hard before she looks at me, and then Alex, Oliver, and finally Vince before she turns back to Desmond and takes a deep breath.

I fully expect her to argue; I’m about two seconds away from demanding a transfer or speaking with the CMO when her shoulders sag, and she turns back to the PC.

“Scopolamine is a drug used to help manage nausea, typically from motion sickness, in the form of a patch, at a low dose.”

“But…” Oliver presses, pushing to his feet before moving across the room to look at the screen beside Desmond, his eyes widening.

“But this isn’t a low dose given by the patch. And something tells me Katherine wasn’t suffering from motion sickness.” Dr. Sterling’s voice is quiet, her lips pulled down in a frown that puts me on edge as she looks to me as if needing confirmation.

“What does it mean if she was given a larger dose and wasn’t suffering from motion sickness?” Desmond demands, stepping toward the doctor, making her eyes widen.

“Desmond.” His gaze snaps up to land on mine, and I see the storm of emotions raging in his eyes. He’s angry and hurting, but mostly he’s afraid. Scared to lose the one thing that means more than his own life.

That’s no excuse, though; the doctor is on our side, and we need to keep our heads to help Kat and our baby the best we can.

His nostrils flare, and I watch his jaw tick before he takes a deep breath and turns back to look at the doctor.

“Sorry, I’m just worried about Kat,” he manages to grit out, and while it might not be the most heartfelt apology, I know it’s the best he can manage given the circumstances.

The doctor must see that too because I watch her relax, even if just slightly, before she goes back to the computer, clicking around, typing something, her lips pulling deeper by the minute.

“Fuck.” Oliver so rarely curses that it catches me off guard, but it also tells me whatever she’s looking at isn’t good.

“Oliver.” Alex’s tone is a lot like mine was a moment ago with Desmond, but instead of bristling the way Desmond did, Oliver easily answers his father.

“Scopolamine, also known as devil’s breath, is often associated with a ‘zombie-like state’ when taken incorrectly or when too high a dose is administered. Amnesia, extreme compliance, hallucinations, and other symptoms are not uncommon...”

The room is quiet as Oliver trails off. The horror of the fact that Kat had been drugged sets in like a poison and makes me feel physically ill.

“That’s why she looked at you like she’d never seen you before.” It’s impossible to miss the pain in Alex’s voice, and it’s all I can do to push to my feet and move to the bed.

You’d never know she’d just been through hell; even after everything, she looks like an angel sleeping. Reaching out, I cup her cheek, her skin warm and soft, just like I remember, but she remains still, and I know she’s not just sleeping.

What I wouldn’t give to see her open her eyes and be okay.

Money, material objects—if there was a price I could pay, I wouldn’t hesitate.

I rest my other hand on the swell of her stomach and nearly break when I feel the soft flutter of movement.

Strong, just like their mother.

“What effects will it have on the pregnancy?" I nearly choke on the question, unsure if I’m strong enough for the answer, but needing to hear it, regardless.

“Will she never remember, or will her memory return as the drug leaves her system?”

“In small doses it’s considered safe during pregnancy. We don’t often prescribe it, as there isn’t much research, but we can give it if necessary. I can’t promise there won’t be any side effects on her or the baby. For now, all we can do is wait and see. Most of your questions will be answered when she wakes up.”

Sweeping my thumb over her cheek, I lean down and press my lips to her forehead before doing the same to her blanket-covered stomach and making my way back to the chair beside her bed, where I’ll stay until those green eyes open again and piece my broken heart back together, or shatter it.

Either way, I’m hers forever.

Mid-February

I’m cold; it’s the first thought that pops into my head as I wake. I’m also still exhausted. Snuggling in, I pull the blanket up to my chin and attempt to get comfortable.

It doesn’t work.