I knew from the books that the babies had to be over five pounds at least to be allowed to leave a hospital after they were born. I also knew they had to have good Apgar scores and be able to feed properly. But two to three weeks felt like a lifetime.
He stopped reeling off information and sat quietly as I took one last look at the photos, before I pushed his hand away slowly, until he straightened back up again.
I didn’t have anything I wanted to say to him, and I didn’t want to invite him to think he was part of this, so I just muttered, “Thanks.”
I heard him take in a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself down, which wasn’t a surprise. The great and almighty Taras Federov, the son of the Pakhan Bogdan Federov, didn’t like to be dismissed or not put on a pedestal. Was I afraid? After what I’d gone through because of him—was I hell.
I expected him to get up and walk out or lecture me on respect, but he shifted closer, and leaned a fist back in the bed beside me.
Instead of looking up to read his mood, I stared at the shirt-covered arm, and followed it down to his hand. I’d always loved them. They were graceful but strong, and had rough pads that had felt divine when he touched me with them.
“Nell,” he called quietly, his voice deep and sounding rougher than usual. But I still didn’t raise my head. “How are you feeling after everything?”
Did he mean the explosion, or the emergency section?
Deciding he would leave more quickly if I gave him something, I whispered, “Fine.”
“I don’t believe that for one second, baby. A car exploded behind you, and you got debris in four areas of your body. You landed on your hands, your knees, and pregnant stomach, then—”
My head snapped up, so that I could glare at him and his fake concern. “Newsflash, I was there for all of it. Hell, I was even in the operating room when they cut me open, even if I was asleep for it.
“I don’t need a blow-by-blow replay of what a shitty day this has been, ending with the joyous news that my sons are now in the world weeks earlier than they should have been. I’m well aware that I can’t go and hold them because I had an emergency procedure to save their lives,” I hissed, regretting that I’d let him get a reaction out of me, and the fact it made my muscles tighten, which fucking hurt.
His lips were pressed tightly together by the time I finished as his eyes scanned my face.
“Whoever’s responsible for the bomb and putting the three of you in danger will pay, Nell. I’ll make sure—”
I was done. I couldn’t take anymore from him today or any other day in this lifetime, for that matter.
“I don’t care,” I interrupted, watching his eyebrows draw together in confusion. “I don’t care what you do, Taras,” I corrected.
“I’m not your business anymore, so please, please go back to your wife and family. I’d appreciate it if you’d draw a line under your involvement with the boys, too, because we both know they have no role to play in your world. Drawing it out will only hurt them when they’re older. Go home and make babies with your wife,” I almost choked saying the words, but managed to force my way past it. “If you haven’t already.”
With that, I clenched my teeth together as hard as I could, and rolled onto my side as far as possible. It wasn’t far, but it sent the message I intended to him loud and clear.
After a couple of minutes—where I was sure he’d argue with me, or walk around the other side to tell me no one disrespected him—the bed moved slightly as he got up from it, and I heard his footsteps walk slowly to the door.
His parting shot wasn’t what I expected.
“I won’t be drawing a line under the boys or you, Nell. As for the rest of it, we’ll cover all of that when we talk.” There was a squeak as the door opened, and he added, “Sleep well, and I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.”
I’d had months to get over the heartbreak and betrayal, and I knew better than to hold onto things and rehash them, but I’ll be damned if I could stop the tears that started up again after he left.
Baby blues were a bitch, but I was going to follow Brenda’s advice and try to get some sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, I was going to get a handle on them and concentrate on my sons. Anything could happen with babies, premature or not, so I needed to be rested and ready for if that happened.