Page 8 of Entwined
Vaughn leaned in, his breath warm against the back of my neck. “We have no choice,” he murmured, his voice a mix of determination and sorrow. “You have our family and yours. The baby will be well taken care of.”
I tried to steady my trembling hands as I dunked the teabag into the hot water, watching as the color slowly seeped into the liquid. “Without their father,” I whispered, the sadness in my voice almost unbearable.
Vaughn’s hands squeezed my shoulders, offering silent support, but the weight of the future pressed down on me, heavy and unrelenting. The tea sat untouched as I stared at the swirling liquid, knowing that nothing would ever truly ease the ache in my heart.
Chapter 4
The announcement went out the following morning. Vaughn, now the interim CEO, delivered the news with the calm authority that came naturally to him, but I knew him too well to miss the tension in his voice. The press release was carefully crafted, revealing just enough without giving away anything truly significant. Colson Ashworth, it stated, was taking a leave of absence due to health reasons. No details were provided, leaving the media and shareholders to speculate, which they did with a vengeance. But that was part of the plan—to control the narrative, to keep the real truth buried.
The Ashworths and the Shaws gathered at the hospital when Colson was taken in for surgery. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the low hum of machines surrounded us as we waited, each of us lost in our thoughts, the anxiety hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
Logan sat beside me, his leg bouncing nervously, a habit he’d never managed to shake. Simone was perched on a chair, her face unusually pale, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her purse. Vaughn stood by the window, staring out at the city withhis arms crossed, his face unreadable and Easton sat with his eyes closed.
I couldn’t sit still. I kept glancing at the clock, feeling each second tick by like a drop of water against stone. The surgery was taking longer than expected, and with every minute that passed, the knot in my stomach tightened. The nausea I’d felt earlier returned with a vengeance, and I pressed a hand to my belly, trying to steady my breathing.
Finally, my mother spoke, her voice tight with worry. “Why haven’t we heard anything? It’s been hours.”
“Margaret, please,” Vaughn said without turning from the window, his voice a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “They said it would take time.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t worry,” she shot back, as she glared at his back.
“Worrying won’t change the outcome,” he replied, his tone firm but not unkind.
Logan reached over and squeezed my hand, drawing my attention away from the tense exchange. “He’ll pull through,” he said, trying to sound confident, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.
“I hope so,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep it together.
The door to the waiting room swung open, and a doctor in scrubs entered, his expression carefully neutral. We all stood as one, the room suddenly too small, too claustrophobic. My heart pounded in my chest as we waited for him to speak.
“Mr. Ashworth is out of surgery,” the doctor began, his eyes scanning the room before landing on me. “The procedure was successful, but it was more complex than we anticipated. He’s stable for now, but the next 24 hours are critical.”
A collective sigh of relief swept through the room, but it was tempered by the doctor’s caution. Stable for now. Critical. Words that offered hope and fear in equal measure.
“When can we see him?” I asked, stepping forward, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.
“He’s in recovery,” the doctor replied. “We’ll let you in once he’s settled in his room.”
I nodded, swallowing hard as I tried to process the information. Colson had made it through the surgery, but the battle was far from over. My hand instinctively slid over my stomach. I wasn’t showing and only Logan and Vaughn besides Colson were aware of my pregnancy.
Vaughn finally turned from the window, his face hardening into a mask of determination. “We need to prepare for the worst while hoping for the best,” he said, his voice low but commanding. “The company can’t afford any missteps. I’ll handle the board, but we need to be ready for anything.”
Simone’s voice was quiet but steady as she added, “I’ll stay here with Joey until she can see him.”
I felt a wave of gratitude toward her, even if our relationship had been strained in the past. Right now, none of that mattered.
Logan looked at me, his eyes full of concern. “Do you want me to stay too?”
“No,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Go home, get some rest. I’ll be fine.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Call me if anything changes.”
“I will,” I promised, squeezing his hand one last time before he left.
As the others dispersed, Vaughn lingered by the door, his eyes locking with mine. “You should prepare yourself, Joey,” he said, his voice softer now. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
“I know,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his words settle over me like a heavy blanket.
The hours stretched on, and finally, the nurse came to take me to Colson’s room. He looked so small in that bed, so fragile, his skin pale against the stark white sheets. I took his hand in mine, feeling the coolness of his skin and the slow, steady beat of his pulse.
