Page 108 of Resisting Isaac
My eyes meet Isaac’s.
I see it—the guilt, the fury, the helplessness.
But under that, I see whatisn’tthere.
Regret. And I realize that I don’t have any either.
I summon strength I didn’t know I had. “If that’s their decision, then I understand.”
Christine nods, expression unreadable. “We’ll be in touch by the end of the week.”
She leaves us alone just as a doctor enters, the echo of her heels fading down the hall.
Reality seeps back in like cold water around my ankles.
After closing the door behind him, the man who introduces himself as Dr. Rasheed gives us a brief update—vitals, release timeline, notes about tomorrow’s labs, instructions for rest—and then he’s gone, closing the door once again with a careful click.
I swallow thickly and meet Isaac’s eyes. “I’m not going to regret our child. No matter what they decide.”
He gives me a tired smile. “Me either, spitfire.”
I’m tired too, so I close my eyes and lean back into the stiff hospital pillows.
“I’m going to fix this,” Isaac says quietly. “Whatever it takes.”
But as I drift off to sleep, all I can think about is a heartbeat I haven’t even heard yet. The show I’ve barely started working on. And the man who’s now tangled up in both.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
isaac
We’ve barely had time to recover from Christine’s visit of doom when two young women in pink scrubs come to retrieve Elena for the ultrasound to check on the baby.
They introduce themselves by name but all I catch isLabor and Delivery.
“Okay if I come, too?” I ask as Elena climbs into the wheelchair the tech insists on taking her down in while holding the back of her gown closed.
The nurse nods but I’m looking at Elena. I don’t know how invasive this is going to be and if she’s comfortable with me being there.
She nods. “Yeah. Of course.”
Relief floods my chest as we walk down sterile fluorescent lit hallways until we reach a darkened room.
Once we’re settled inside, Elena lies back on the narrow raised platform like a car about to get an oil change, pale blue hospital gown pulled up, a thin paper-like sheet covering her lower half and knuckles white around the edges of it. I standbeside her, wishing I was holding her hand but not sure if she wants that right now.
The tech, who introduces herself as Lisa, smiles softly. “This might feel a little cold.”
Elena flinches as some blue gel is spread over her belly. I reach for her hand. She takes mine without looking at me.
Lisa grabs a wand-thing and presses it to Elena’s skin.
The screen flickers on. There’s static then mostly shadows. I’m probably already a terrible Dad because I can’t see shit.
Then I can. A tiny flutter. A rapid rhythm flashing steadily on the screen.
Lisa angles the wand. Adjusts the monitor.
“There we go,” she murmurs. “That’s your baby.”
