Page 94 of The Man I Love

Fear squeezed her throat, and she felt Tristan’s fingers tighten around her palm.

“Name her Sawyer,” she said to him.

He gritted his teeth. “Nothing,” he said, “is going to happen to you, Samantha. Do you hear me? I won’t letanythinghappen to you.”

Soon they stopped at a pair of double doors, and a nurse was at her bedside. “It’s time,” she said to Tristan, pushing him away from the bed.

He stood tall. “I’m the father. I’m going with her.” His voice was guttural.

She placed her hands on his chest and held him back. “She’ll be fine. We’ll take care of her.”

“I’m not leaving her!” Tristan shook his head. “I won’t leave her!”

“I’m sorry.” The nurse pushed him away, then followed the rest of the crew and Samantha through the double doors.

Samantha began to sob. “No!” she screamed, “No!”

Tristan fell to his knees in the hall.

“I love you, Tristan,” she screamed. “I love you…” The doors started closing, and then everything in the world went black.

34

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

September

Present Day

The room wasdark when Samantha opened her eyes. Everything felt hazy and strange—like she was slowly making her way out of a fog. At first, she thought she was dreaming; there was a disconnect between her mind and her body. But then things began to sharpen, and she noticed a nurse standing at her bedside, pressing buttons on a machine.

A sudden memory of Tristan falling to his knees flashed through her mind, and panic seized her chest. She pushed hard against the mattress, forcing herself upright. “My baby!” she cried out, her voice trembling. “My baby!”

“Shhh …” Tristan was at her side, pressing his lips into her forehead., “Shhh …. It’s fine; everything is fine. The baby is perfect.”

A cold sweat peppered her brow, and she shook her head. “Where is she? Where’s my baby?”

Tristan backed away, then reached into the bassinet beside her bed and picked up their daughter.

Tension eased from her shoulders as she saw an angel’s perfect face. Her head fell back on the mattress, and Tristan leaned over her, placing their baby gently in her arms.

“Sir,” the nurse said, “the doctor needs to sign off before she can hold her.”

But Tristan only waved her off and propped a pillow behind Samantha’s back. “Nothing is going to happen to them. I’m here.”

His words were a promise, melting any remaining fear from her heart. He was there. He wouldn’t let anything happen. They were two little words that went beyond here and now. They were a promise for always, until he left this world, for as long as they were with him.

The baby began to move in her arms, and Samantha watched her tiny face squint against the bright lights above her head. Despite her being earthside, Samantha remembered her movements as though they were her own. The tiny squirms that had become a part of her daily life for months. Even though Samantha was meeting her for the first time, she already recognized her. The tiny nose that was so similar to her own, her wise eyes that reminded her so much of Tristan, and the lips that were a perfect shade of rosy, pink, and the exact shade of Renee’s. Emotions like she’d never experienced before rushed through her body; pride, longing, and an overwhelming love that was indescribable.

She glanced up at Tristan, tears stinging her eyes. “I already love her. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”

He came closer, his expression almost painful. She understood it. Their hearts now lived outside of their bodies, and life as they knew it would never be the same.

A pink and blue blanket was wrapped around her, and Tristan began to unfasten it, needing to show her every inch. To show her that she was healthyand safe, and that Samantha’ssleepless nights were all worthwhile. She needed it too. The proof that everything was okay. She needed it more than she needed air, and somehow—he understood.

With desperation, she examined all her toes, then her five tiny fingers on each of her hands. “How much did she weigh?” she asked. “Did she cry when she was born?”

“Six pounds, two ounces,” he recited the words as though he’d locked the information to memory. “They said she cried like a banshee.”

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