Page 137 of The Rogue and His Flower

“He wasn’t there when the ambulance was called, but he knows you were taken to hospital and that you needed surgery. We haven’t told him any of the details. We’re just figuring out what to say,” Dalton says, blowing out a breath. “One step at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” I nod weakly. The thought of facing Carl, of dealing with the repercussions of this loss and its potential impact on our fragile arrangement, fills me with dread. But more than that, what if this changes things between Dalton and me? What if he doesn’t want me after this?

Sadness and exhaustion creep over me, and I don’t fight the pull of sleep, needing to fall into the darkness, needing to forget, if only for a little while. The last thing I hear before I drift off is Dalton’s whispered words of comfort.

“We’ll get through this together, Daisy. I promise.”

The next dayis a blur of tests, and numerous discussions with doctors about my condition. I had no idea I had endometriosis. My periods have always been heavy, irregular, but I’ve never had any of the other symptoms. Perhaps a little fatigue, some bloating, but I never,ever, questioned my ability to conceive,not once. I feel like my body has betrayed me, that I should’ve known, and the guilt I feel is immense.

I’ve been told that I should feel a lot better in a couple of weeks time, and provided I rest and don’t do anything too strenuous, then I should be fully healed in about a month, and can resort to normal activities then. But right now I’m not sure what normal even means. Before this happened, ‘normal’ was being a woman able to conceive, to carry a baby, not someone who’s ability to get pregnant has been drastically reduced. That knowledge is like a constant ache in my chest that has refused to ease, despite Dalton’s unwavering support.

Truthfully, my head has been a mess as I’ve tried to process everything that’s happened, and whilst I’m grateful for Dalton, and his presence by my side, I can’t help but feel as though I’m letting him down. That I’m a burden.

On my third day in hospital, not long after Dalton has left to go and grab a change of clothes and a shower back home, I hear a gentle knock at the door.

“Come in,” I say, pushing upright in bed. I’m no longer hooked up to any machinery, or on any fluids, I’m simply resting. In a day or so I should be able to go home to finish my recovery there.

“Hey, you,” Lia says as she enters the room, her eyes soft as she smiles at me.

“Hey,” I choke out, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions in her presence.

“Oh, Daise,” she says, rushing towards me and pulling me in for a hug. “What an ordeal.”

I cling to Lia, grateful for the familiar warmth and comfort she brings. As she pulls away, she brushes a stray tear from my cheek with a gentle touch.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be here sooner," she murmurs, her expression mirroring the concern in her voice. "Drix wasinsistent he come every day, and I didn’t have anyone else to watch over Toby."

“I understand. Thank you for coming," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as Lia takes a seat beside me, her presence a grounding force in the midst of my turmoil.

"How are you holding up?" she asks, her gaze steady and unwavering.

I take a deep breath, allowing myself to voice the fears and doubts that have been weighing me down these past few days. Things I haven’t been able to voice to Dalton.

"I’m scared, Lia. I’m so sad," I admit, the words heavy on my tongue.

“I know. I know,” she replies, her words choked as she tears up.

"Miscarrying is painful enough, but the thought that I might never get another chance to have a baby... It’s unbearable."

Lia listens intently, her eyes filled with understanding. "You don’t know if that’s the case. You still have an ovary, and if you find that you can’t conceive naturally, there are other options, Daisy,” she says, trying to reassure me.

“Everything seems like such a mess. I feel like…” My voice trails off as I try to temper my emotions. “I feel like a failure. Like I’ve let everyone down.”

“You are not a failure,” Lia says vehemently. “And you’ve not let anyone down.”

“I’m supposed to give Dalton a child. If I don’t… Lia, what am I going to do? I’m worthless to him now.”

“No, don’t you dare say that,” Lia says, reaching for me and grasping my hand. “Dalton doesn’t see it that way. He’s been out of his mind with worry. That man does not think you’re worthless. Not in any way. Not at all.”

“But Carl will,” I whisper.

“Carl thinks you’ve had an appendectomy,” she says. “He doesn’t know. He won’t know.”

“He thinks I’ve had my appendix out?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Yes, Dalton thought it was the best thing to do given the circumstances…” Her voice trails off as she winces.

“So Dalton doesn’t believe I’ll be able to conceive despite his reassurances and everything he’s said to me these past few days.”

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