Page 62 of Never To Forever

Mason smirks. “You’re really pulling out all the stops for her, huh?”

“Yeah,” I admit, feeling a little sheepish but also determined. “I need her to know how much she means to me.”

Renovating her mom’s old store is the biggest, most meaningful gesture I can do for her. Helping her to achieve her greatest dream is how she’ll know my feelings are real.

That’s the hope, at least.

We’re in the middle of measuring the back wall when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I glance at the screen and see that Christian is calling. Odd… he’s supposed to be in Dallas. I helped him prepare for his meetings, putting together charts to show the company’s financial situation for him to show the board. Crap, did I forget something?

“Hang on,” I tell Mason, answering the call. “Christian, what’s up? Everything go okay with the board?”

His voice is frantic, words coming in bursts through a poor connection. “Garrett—Haven—hospital—labor?—”

The line crackles, and I press the phone tighter to my ear. Did he say Haven?

“Christian, slow down. What’s going on?”

“Marie—there—labor—early?—”

The static cuts off the rest, but I hear enough. My stomach drops, and panic surges through me, making it hard to think straight. Marie. Labor. Fuck, is the baby coming? That can’t be right! It’s too soon. It’s way too soon!

“I’m on my way,” I say, ending the call before he can reply.

“Mason,” I say, turning to him, my voice tight with urgency. “There’s an emergency. I have to go.”

“Wait—what’s going on?” he asks, looking bewildered.

“No time to explain.” I’m already heading for the door, my mind racing.

I get in my truck and take off for the hospital. I can barely see the road through the blur of terrified thoughts clouding my mind. Marie. Labor. Too early. My grip on the wheel tightens as I weave through traffic, pushing the speed limit but not caring. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from my chest.

When I screech into the hospital, I barely register where I park. I’m out of the truck in seconds, sprinting toward the entrance.

The receptionist looks up, startled, as I barrel through the doors.

“Marie Green,” I pant. “Where is she?”

“Marie Green?” she repeats, her fingers hovering over her keyboard.

“Yes!” I’m nearly shouting, my voice rough with panic. “She’s in labor—where is she?”

The woman frowns, slightly confused. “Sir, I don’t have a Marie Green listed in active labor.”

My pulse spikes again. “I was told she was here—there has to be some mistake!”

“Calm down,” she says, a little firmer this time. “If she’s here, she might be in the maternity ward. Take the elevator to the third floor and check the waiting area.”

I don’t even thank her. I’m off toward the elevators, jamming the button repeatedly until the doors slide open. Every second feels like an eternity.

When I finally reach the third floor, I burst out into the corridor, scanning every face, every corner. My pulse roars in my ears as I turn down a hallway—and then I see her.

Marie.

She’s sitting in a chair by herself, her face calm, her hands resting on her lap. She looks up, startled, when I come skidding to a halt in front of her.

“Garrett?” she asks, blinking in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

I stare at her, my chest heaving. Relief floods through me so fast I’m dizzy. She’s fine. She’s okay.

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