Page 74 of Second Draft

“I need to see her.”

“Just one of you,” the doctor says.

“Go.” Kira motions for me to hand her the baby.

Numbly, I follow the doctor.

Shock and grief hit me like a baseball bat to the chest when I see Layla. There are tubes and machines everywhere, and her face is pale – too pale. She looks so damn fragile.

“You have to fight, sweetheart,” I whisper, brushing her hair away from her face. “You have to fight for me, and for our son.”

Taking her hand, careful of the IV attached, I bring it to my lips, and kiss each knuckle.

“Fight for our happy ending. Just don’t…” Tears choke me. “Don’t give up.”

There’s no response, and I don’t expect one. The doctor told me that she’s still heavily sedated, and she will be for a long time.

What I’m not prepared for is the sudden high pitch beeping of the monitors. Almost immediately the room is filled with people, and I’m being ushered out.

“What’s going on?”

“You need to wait outside, sir.”

“She’s crashing,” someone says, making the ground beneath me feel like it’s giving out.

One glance at the heat monitor, and I see the flat line running across the screen, which only jumps when someone begins chest compressions.

“Layla,” I cry out, needing to get to her, to force her to fight, to live.

“Sir, you can’t be in here.”

“I’m not leaving.” My heart speeds up, an erratic pounding in my chest.

“You need to let us do our jobs.” Her hands are on me, pushing me from the room, and the doors are being shut in my face.

God, no. This can’t be the end. This isn’t the way our story is supposed to unfold. I’m supposed to marry her, eventually have more children. Not this.

I lean against the cold wall, and slowly slide to the floor.

Powerless.

Broken.

We never know when our lives are about to shift. Maybe if we did, we’d do things differently.

Regret curls my stomach.

I know I can’t blame myself for this. I don’t even know if I can blame Travis. From what the nurse explained, sometimes there are just complications. But maybe if I’d been with her, if I hadn’t left her alone, even for those few hours, maybe she wouldn’t be in there right now fighting for her life.

I bury my face in my hands and choke back a sob.

The doors open, and a nurse runs out, down the hall.

I look up at the clock on the wall, each second stretching out as time moves excruciatingly slow.

Tick.

Tick.

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