Page 45 of Embrace Me Forever

A chance. Such a small word for such a monumental gamble. I don’t hand out second chances like candy at a parade. They must be earned. Does Blake deserve such a chance? Perhaps. There’s a part of me that dreams of a world where it’s just him and me against the universe. Yet, for now, my universe centers around Coco. She’s my star, my priority. Tomorrow, she’ll need every ounce of my strength.

And Blake? If he can rise above the label of Mr. Unkissable—if he can prove himself to be the man Coco and I need, not just the man I desire—then, and only then, might I consider giving him that elusive chance.

15

BLAKE

We pile into the car, ready for the hospital visit. This is the first time I’ve been entrusted with such a delicate life, and it’s damn hard to hold it together without my emotions spilling over.

“Are you okay with those bags?” Georgia-May glances back, noticing me struggling to untangle a few straps. Meanwhile, Coco’s chin rests on her shoulder, the baby observing me just as keenly.

“I’m fine, Georgia-May,” I reply, juggling her purse, Coco’s day bag, along with a bag packed with snacks and water, all hanging from my shoulders.

“Not often I score a personal porter for the day.” Her grin spreads contagiously.

“Black!” Coco exclaims, pointing at me.

“It’s Blake,” Georgia-May corrects, pressing a tender finger into Coco’s side to tickle her, eliciting peals of giggles from the delighted child.

After a brief wait, a doctor calls Coco’s name.

Georgia-May locks eyes with me as if waiting for me to get up.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I ask tentatively, unsure what I should or shouldn’t do—or feel. I’m with a devoted mother who does everything for her daughter. At the same time, this woman stirs up all sorts of wants within me. And then there’s Coco, the little girl at the heart of it all.

“Please, I need you,” Georgia-May says sweetly, holding my frayed nerves together.

The doctor introduces himself as the neurophysiologist who will be overseeing Coco’s therapy. “Today, we’ll start with an assessment to establish a baseline for Coco’s muscle function.”

As he holds up a bundle of cables, Coco’s eyes widen in fear, her small frame trembling as she cries, “Hurt!”

Georgia-May wraps her arms around Coco, whispering comforting words. “It won’t hurt, baby, I promise you.”

Georgia-May still holds in a lot more than she has let out, but that love for her daughter cannot be faked.

Her daughter’s cries amplify, her protest intensifying with each breath.

“I know, baby. But we need to start with this.”

“Hurt!” Coco wails. Among her limited vocabulary, it tears at me to hear that word spill from her tiny lips.

At that moment, as if drawn by my silent urgings, Coco fixes her gaze on me, her eyes begging for comfort. As her distress pierces through my defenses, I muster every shred of fortitude within me, returning her gaze with a pledge that we will get through this together. Witnessing her eyes alight with a spark of courage, she turns her head toward the doctor.

“You’ll be okay, Coco,” he says.

Coco lies still, her hand clinging to Georgia-May’s as the doctor begins the test, carefully attaching the cables to Coco’s head, avoiding the stitches from her operation. He meticulously connects each lead, monitoring her brain’s reactions as he touches her legs.

“Coco, kick,” he instructs, nudging at her leg to make sure she understands. “Kick.”

Her face is determined as she attempts to kick her legs. The doctor feels every movement, though small, perhaps only manifesting as pulses. Georgia-May stands by Coco’s side, her hand resting on her daughter’s shoulder. I stay close, admiration rising within me for their courage. The doctor watches intently, noting the coordination in her movements.

“Good work, Coco! You can rest now,” he says, stepping back from the table, his eyes reflecting pride in her effort. He turns to Georgia-May, his expression earnest. “The signals are weak, but they’re present. Her brain is attempting to communicate with her muscles, though the connections aren’t fully established at this point.”

“So it’s promising, then?” Georgia-May asks, her voice threaded with anxious hope.

“Absolutely.” The doctor grins broadly. “Now, I’ll gently mobilize her legs and provide some therapeutic massage.”

With expert care, he manipulates her legs, bending and extending them, his fingers applying pressure without causing discomfort for Coco.

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