Page 94 of Broken Bonds

“No, no, she’s just recovering.” With a smile she says goodbye and leaves me there with my sleeping beauty.

The blinds are closed, letting in very little light. Stella looks pale and haggard, almost as white as the sheet covering her. But her red lips keep calling to me like a siren’s song.

I lean over her and gently touch her mouth to mine.

“Lionel,” I hear her sigh my name, which reassures me somehow.

“Calm down, baby, you don’t have to wake up. Just rest, we’ll have time to talk later.”

I stroke her hair with my hand. She hasn’t opened her eyes, and although she unconsciously seeks my touch, she’s still sound asleep.

What have you been doing all this time, Hvezda?

It makes me feel more guilty that I wasn’t there to take care of her. For putting her in danger, for putting our baby in danger.

This is shit.

With my hands in the pockets of the pants I’m wearing, I look out the window, today it’s cloudy. As is our future.

About twenty minutes later, I’m on the sofa by the window when a middle-aged woman, dressed in a long white coat, enters the room and introduces herself as the doctor.

“How are they?” It’s the first thing I ask, and the only thing I care about knowing. My wife and future child’s wellbeing.

“Mrs. Kral came here suffering severe dehydration. We don’t have much information as the woman who came with her didn’t say much.”

Stella knows someone in this city, boy, that’s news to me. I’ll have to figure out who the woman is and talk to her.

“And the baby?”

The doctor smiles a little before answering. “We did an ultrasound before bringing your wife into the room. The baby is well implanted, at eight weeks it’s a good size, almost a quarter of an inch.”

God, I’m a man who lives between mathematical calculations and measurements, but at this moment, no matter how much I search my brain, I don’t get it.

The baby is fine. Eight weeks.

“It’s the size of a raspberry,” she ends, still smiling. I imagine she’s used to talking to first-time parents who don’t have a clue. “When your wife wakes up, we will know more. You can take it easy. We are taking good care of her.”

The truth is her words give me peace, although only partially. I’m still walking on a tightrope.

As I wait, the minutes pass slowly. I know Josh and his people are around, but I appreciate them not coming in, allowing us some privacy. Well, as much as we can have considering the nurses come to make their rounds regularly.

My mind wonders what it must have been like for her to know that I was in a bed similar to the one she’s in—having to face my mother, standing up for me but also for herself.

Every time I discover something new, I admire her even more. Love her more.

Now we’re having a baby. I should search Amazon for one of those books about What To Expect When You’re Expecting. What? I know a little about that, several women on my staff have children, and I don’t live under a rock.

At first it felt as if we were going in circles, but even though we seemed to be moving in the right direction, now something unexpected is thrown into our path.

I spend the night sitting next to her bed, holding her hand, trying not to wake her up. She must be exhausted after being on the move for weeks.

The race is over. The time to rest is here.

I’m the king of my jungle, and I’m here to defend my queen.

It’s early in the morning when I hear her call my name.

“Lionel?” she says in a sleepy and hoarse voice. “What are you doing here?”

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