“Then stay with me, Jess. Let me make it up to you.”
If he were any other man, I might not give in so easily, but it’s Grayson. The other half to my soul and the only man who has ever held my heart. We had a fight, and instead of giving up, I’m going to fight for him—for us.
“Grayson . . .” I say as tears fall. “The baby . . .”
He steps forward, his hands cupping my cheeks. “Did we lose her?”
My tears fall harder, and I wrap my fingers around his wrist. “No.” I look over at the monitor. “He or she is still in there, but they’ve warned me. I’m very early in the pregnancy, and this has been . . . traumatic. We need to be prepared.”
Listening to the doctor explain the risks and possibilities was incredibly hard. If we’re lucky, we will have a healthy baby. But it’ll be weeks of testing and monitoring to make sure that neither of us have residual issues.
Grayson’s forehead drops to mine. We breathe each other in. “No matter what, I’m right here. I won’t let you go.” And then he climbs in the bed with me, his arms wrapped tightly around me, holding me to his chest. “You will never lose me again, love, because there’s no one else in this world who ever had my heart. Rest, I’ll hold you and keep the nightmares away.”
I close my eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, and sleep dreamlessly for the first time in months.
* * *
“It’s great to meet you, Grayson,” Dr. Warvel says. She asked if Grayson would come to this session with me to discuss all that went on.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She smiles. “I hope all good things.”
“Of course.”
I snort. “Don’t lie to a therapist.”
Dr. Warvel laughs. “I’m going to pretend he’s telling the truth.”
“It is the truth,” I say with a grin. “We’re both . . . coming to grips with all that happened.”
“First,” she says looking at me, “I want to say how happy I am that you’re okay. I was worried and seeing you here right now is a miracle.”
“I seem to be using the world’s allotment up this year.”
Her smile is warm. “I will say that I don’t know anyone who has survived a plane crash and a house fire in a six-month period.”
“Yes, I’m an anomaly.”
“That much is true,” Grayson agrees. I was released five days ago with very strict instructions to stay calm and relaxed.
Dr. Warvel nods in agreement. “Second, I want to say that I’m glad you’re both here today. I’d like to get a feel for how you’re both doing.”
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I’m doing well, the doctors are very happy with my lung function, and I’m not having any issues with my TBI. I worried that would be triggered, but so far, I’m healing and I haven’t lost the baby.”
That is probably the only reason I am so okay. The OB-GYN explained what to watch for and said that all my tests, including the ultrasound, showed nothing abnormal. If I did lose the baby at this point, it may not have anything to do with the fire and just be a miscarriage. She said to take it easy, keep myself as calm as I can, and contact her if anything changes.
“That’s great.”
“I agree. I was told that I should take it easy and know my limits,” I say, glaring at Grayson.
Grayson is taking the calm thing to an extreme. The first day, it was cute. He was so caring and waited on me hand and foot. The second day, it was . . . well, still a little cute. Amelia also took the role of being a nurse very serious. She stayed next to me, feeding me noodles, and making me drink my water each time the alarm went off.
By the third day, I was no longer so amused.
I wanted to get up, take a walk, but all I was “allowed” to do was sit on the deck while Amelia and Grayson hovered.
I informed him that I wanted to take a walk, which he was adamant about being too strenuous. Then he almost lost his shit when I was in the kitchen, preparing to do some baking, which calms me.