Page 308 of Merciless Desires

“Thanks,” I murmur, taking a light.

I inhale deeply and exhale, looking out into the parking lot.

I wonder how fucking long it’s going to take because I can’t take this. Leticia is my world, my everything.

I close my eyes, grinding my jaw, trying to control this raw, overpowering emotion in my throat.

I can’t fucking cry!

Fuck!

I open my eyes, and I see Iceman leaning against the wall, smoking. He stares at the sky, exhaling the smoke.

We stand outside for a while, and then we walk inside, looking to see if they’re out. We walk over to ask Betty for an update.

“Betty, is my wife out yet,” I ask, grabbing the countertop edge.

Iceman stands next to me, waiting for his turn.

“No, they’re still in the operating room,” Betty says, pursing her lips.

“Right,” I say, walking away. I walk over to stand by the window to look outside.

“Scarlett still in the operating room,” Iceman says,

The side door opens, and a doctor walks out, pulling off his face mask.

“Mr. Smith,” he looks around the waiting room.

“It’s me,” Iceman says, walking over to the doctor.

“I’m Doctor Kirkland; the operation went well. Mrs. Smith is in the recovery room; she’s doing well. I was able to repair the liver that was torn open from the impact, the force of the car accident. She has two cracked ribs, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop the miscarriage,” Doctor Kirkland says, crossing his arms.

“Fuck! A miscarriage,” Iceman croaks, staring at the doctor.

“Yes, it looks like the fetus’s gestation was a few weeks. I’m sorry,” Doctor Kirkland says, clenching his jaw.

“Thanks,” Iceman croaks, rubbing his neck.

“No worries,” Doctor Kirkland says, nodding.

I walk over to my bro, giving him some support.

Fuck!

“Iceman,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Yeah, I need a few minutes,” Iceman says, walking out of the hospital.

My heart aches. My babies have to be ok. I’m glad that Scarlett is okay.

God always has my back.

I walk back to lean against the wall waiting for the doctor. I close my eyes, and I pray.

Thirty minutes later, Iceman returns, taking a seat in the chairs next to me. I look at him, stretch out his long legs, resting head-on against the chair’s backside, clenching the armrests.

Fuck!

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