Page 41 of Ever After All

She circled her hand in the air. “Being so confident about being in love. Thinking it’ll be okay. What if it’s not?”

“It’s not that I don’t worry, sweetheart. I do. Obviously, I’d be devastated if something happened to you. We’re different, but we both have our reasons to understand life isn’t always easy. It’s just… I love you. I’m willing to do the hard part to have this with you.”

“Do you want to—” Her words cut off.

“Have it all?” I finished, not sure that’s what she meant to say, but it’s what I felt.

She blinked. There was a sheen of tears in her eyes as she studied me. “I guess it’s already gone too far.”

“Because we’re married?”

She rolled her eyes a little, letting out a tiny snort. “No, because I fell in love with you.”

“Ah, so we’re already in the danger zone?”

Her fingers walked their way down from my shoulder onto my chest where she began to fiddle with the ring I was also wearing on a chain.

“I think so.” She reached up and unhooked the necklace from around her neck, slipping the ring off before she slid it onto her finger. I followed suit.

A smile curled my lips when I woke the next morning and felt the ring on my finger. After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, I left because I needed to get to the brewery. Her brother was getting in his car nearby, and I resisted the urge to flag him down and demand he let me know when he planned to tell her. I didn’t like the weight of carrying his secret.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rosie

The light from above glinted on my wedding band, drawing my eyes to it. Almost every time I noticed it was on my hand, I internally started, followed by a softness in my heart.

I loved Wyatt. Of that, I had no doubt. I told myself all the things I thought I should. That being anxious about commitment was normal for anyone. Even for someone whose mother had died in a startling way. I told myself it was worth the risk. That Wyatt was worth it all.

So when my worst nightmare happened when I was on shift at the hospital, I told myself it was just pure coincidence. It had nothing to do with my conversation with Wyatt about my mother. I feared his faith in me and my ability to keep it cool during an emergency might’ve been misplaced.

When a woman gave birth and we couldn’t get the bleeding to stop, it was all hands-on deck. I couldn’t help but think of my mother and what that night must’ve been like for her. The mother was in her thirties, just like mine had been. This was her second child, and the labor seemed to go fairly smoothly, although her OB-GYN had been monitoring her in the past week due to concerns about bleeding.

She got to hold her little baby boy, who they named Danny. As the nurses began going through the usual steps after the baby was born, the bleeding wasn’t slowing. At all. She began to look scared when her breathing became labored, and it was clear she was weakening.

With modern medicine, it was easy to trick yourself into thinking we could handle anything. We certainly could handle many things, far more than in earlier times. Yet childbirth was always risky. A multitude of factors were at play, but the data started to point us to a serious problem. Her blood pressure was plummeting, nothing we did could bring it up, and multiple doctors began filling the room.

“What’s happening?” Her voice was shaky. Giving birth stretches a body to its limit.

I ran in and out of the room, sending people to check on our blood supply and making sure we called for more if needed. I obviously hadn’t been there when this happened to my mother, but the old memories were fresh at this moment. The hospital staff allowed us in to see her, and I remembered a sense of panic setting in when we were escorted out later. I hadn’t understood what was happening but knew it was serious. I had felt the somber tone of the room. It took my mother approximately twenty-four hours to essentially bleed to death.

I wished I had never looked at her records. Before the ability to give people blood transfusions to keep them alive, literally, she would’ve died much more quickly. There would’ve been no way to even hope she could’ve made it.

My mind was jolted back to the moment when one of the ER doctors, Dr. Jackson, spoke my name. His voice was calm and low like it always was. He was older, and he only worked part-time now. He said he liked to do the ER shift because it helped keep him on his toes. He said it was an injection of vitality because he remembered just how much life meant.

When he approached me, I was in the break room with my elbows on my knees, fighting the exhaustion setting in. I didn’t even know how many hours I’d been at the hospital.

I glanced up with blurry eyes to see him standing in the doorway. “Cassie is going to make it. She’s finally stabilized,” Dr. Jackson said.

I burst into tears. He walked across the room and sat down on the bench beside me, his big hand landing between my shoulder blades. He moved it in a slow circle. His touch alone was soothing. He was a big man, easily a few inches over six feet tall. Nothing seemed to rattle him. Until tonight, I’d thought nothing rattled me at work.

“Breathe, Rosie.”

I took several slow breaths. After a few moments, my tears had stopped, and I could straighten up. I glanced over at him, feeling sheepish. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly.

“You don’t need to apologize. We all have those cases. For some, they’re few and far between. I understand why it’s happening for you. I wasn’t the doctor who treated your mother, but I was on duty that night. I remember how everyone felt. It was a long night, and, unlike Cassie, she didn’t make it. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know, but there’s always a risk in life. Some of those risks are very close to our hearts. I want you to go home to your new husband.” His eyes twinkled a little at that. He had teased me about my Vegas wedding the other day. “And remember to tell him you love him. Are you okay?”

Whenever Dr. Jackson asked that question, it was always slow and with purpose. You could tell he really wanted to know if you were actually okay.

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