Page 36 of Doctor Mile High
Which is the nice way of saying they don’t think she’ll be okay. It’s a neutral statement. From my own experience, history shows patients in this kind of situation usually die.
“Sir. I need to make sure the baby is healthy. They’ll do a better evaluation at the hospital but let me clear out his nose and throat. Take his vitals. I’ll give him right back to you.”
“Right.” I snap out of it, handing my son to the only person who can help him right now. “Please, let me know if he’s okay. Please. I need that.”
He doesn’t reply. His focus is on the newborn baby. “Do you want to cut the cord?” He hands me a pair of sterile scissors.
“I’d love to.” I clear my throat, snipping the cord, and he’s finally free of the placenta.
The medic squeezes the bulb syringe, pulling the mucus from his lungs so he can breathe easier. Next, he listens to his vitals, counts fingers and toes, then wraps him in the blanket again.
“He looks perfect and healthy even though he’s early. They’ll probably put him in the NICU.”
Fuck. How could I forget that? She’s an entire month early, but survival rates are good with premature babies at this stage.
We pull into the emergency room bay. Not a second later, doctors and nurses run outside to take them away from me.
All I can do is let them, and trust that by tomorrow, Dove and my son will be safe in my arms. After that, I’m never letting go again.
9
WINSTON
I consider myself a patient man.At least, I always thought I was until this moment. Every second Dove is in surgery, I become more impatient.
The nurses placed me in the room they’ll bring Dove to when she’s out of surgery, and I’ve never paced so much in my life. My hands are cleaned of her blood, but there are sections of my shirt that are stained in red.
Running my fingers nervously through my hair, I peek at the large round clock hanging on the wall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble to myself with exhaustion.
It’s only been five minutes since I’ve looked at the time. One doctor is working on saving the life of the woman I know is meant to be mine while another is running tests on my son since he was born an entire month early.
My head sways and I pause in the middle of my pacing, grabbing onto the edge of the empty bed. I haven’t eaten or had a drop of water in ages. The adrenaline rush is crashing, the worry issettling in. I turn, leaning my entire weight on the bed to regain my composure. My hands grip the edge of the bed so hard, a creak and groan sound in the empty space.
The slight tick of the clock irritates the low throb forming between my eyes. I hang my head, shut my eyes, and take a few deep breaths, hoping that will be enough to calm me down. All the sounds around me heighten instead of fade. My heart begins to race when the memory of her bleeding out on the plane plays on repeat in my head like a movie.
My breathing becomes faster. My hand clutches my heart when a pain shoots across my chest. It isn’t a heart attack, but I need to calm down. I have to be the one who’s steady and strong. Dove has to focus on her recovery, and she needs me to be there for our son.
I don’t even care if he isn’t mine by blood. Don’t get me wrong, I hope he is because that would bind her to me forever, and that’s all I truly want, but at the end of the day, if he isn’t biologically mine, then I’ll raise him as if he is.
“She’ll be fine,” I say to myself, needing to hear the words out loud.
The noises around me continue to amplify, causing my hands to clutch the bed harder. The squeaks of shoes running down the hall as doctors and nurses run to save a life. The constant murmurs of conversations. The faraway cry of a child echoing down the halls. I rub the side of my head, begging the ache to go away to allow me to calm down.
I’m usually so much more composed than this. Ever since meeting Dove, she’s turned my world upside down and inside out. Nothing makes sense without her. I don’t make sensewithout her. My fucking world doesn’t make sense without her. I’ve been scrambling to get myself together mentally and emotionally since Costa Rica.
I’m not letting her go this time. Not now. Not ever.
My phone rings from my pocket, startling me, and I let out a long breath. That’s actually just what I needed to bring myself to a normal state.
I don’t bother looking at the name on the screen when I swipe to answer. “Hello?” My voice is hoarse, and I know I sound exhausted.
“For goodness sake, Winston, I’ve been calling for two hours. I got notified your plane made an emergency landing and you haven’t checked into the hotel or conference yet. What the hell is happening? The news isn’t giving any information besides that you helped a pregnant woman, which is phenomenal, but what happened? Are you okay? Did something happen to the plane? Was there a malfunction? Do I need to call the family lawyer? Do I need to come down there? I will. I’ll call in the back-up assistant and be there in a few hours.” Olivia manages to somehow say all those statements and questions without taking one breath.
I yawn, daring to look at the damn clock again.
Only another five minutes have passed. This is the longest day of my life.
