Page 23 of I Promise You
I knew she fell hard for me when we first met…and now she’s all I think about, from the moment I wake up until the second I fall asleep, all I see is her.
I will set the whole world on fire if she dies on me.
There is no me without her.
She has my pathetic, blackened soul wrapped around her wings.
And there’s no coming back from this.
A tap on my shoulder makes me flinch, and I stand from my chair like it’s vital.
I turn around to meet the trauma doctor who’s treating Ari.
His expression is weightless.
Nothing behind a cold stare, and I can’t fucking tell what his following words will be.
My heart is pounding, and I grow impatient the longer he deadpans.
“Mr. Rider.” His voice is unemotional.
“Tell me she’s alive.” I demand him to give me the answer I need to live.
“She’s alive.” His voice is crisp and concise, as if he’s purposefully speaking every word thoroughly to ensure I understand the situation.
When he says that, my whole body transits to relief. I heave out a heavy exhale and relax my shoulders.
“She will be able to recover fully, although we don’t know when she will wake up. Could be in a few hours, could even be days.”
“Days?”
He nods.
“I need to see her. I need to see her now.” I step forward, headed toward the room I last saw her in, not caring if he stops me. No one will stop me from being there for her and our baby.
He grabs my arm, and I tense up my bicep, looking at him with murderous eyes.
If he thinks—
“She’s not in her room, Mr. Rider.” He lets go of my arm, and I raise my brow.
“What the fuck do you mean?” I snarl.
“She’s still in surgery…she—” He clears his throat and softens his tone, finally revealing some emotion, and I’m bracing myself.
This can’t mean…
“The baby did not survive. Too much blood loss. She’s in surgery so we can deliver your son…I-I’m sorry for your loss.” Each word that comes out of his mouth is sharp, cutting me more profoundly than the scars on my body ever did…leaving me in shock. There are no words that I’m able to form, and my brows narrow furiously as the hospital gets tuned out, slowly. I rub my temples, shaking my head.
My son…I have a boy.
“He’s gone?” I choke out, trying to stop the lump in my throat from forming.
I’m breathing, but I feel like I just died.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, making the memory vanish as quickly as it was triggered. I stand straight, leaning forward and take my eyes off my little angel.
I took a leave of absence after everything went down. I still have some time left before it’s back to deployments, long workdays, and missions.
