She was upset I didn’t choose her first choice of name, which was—surprise—Evangeline. But she’d done some research choosing names with care and swore she knew it would be a girl all along.
My father is home now. He’s healthy and more fit than I’ve seen him in a long time, actually. He’s still working with his physical therapist and will for a while and has modified his diet even though we know his unhealthy habits weren’t what put him in a hospital. But it’s better that he takes care of himself. I feel that Hazel moving back into the house with Michael is the reason for a lot of this. She’s pretty strict when it comes to Michael, and she won’t let my dad eat anything she wouldn’t let her son eat. My dad complained about it, but I could see he was happy to have her home. Happy to have them both home.
My mother is gone, and a divorce is in the works. I hope she’ll find happiness, too. I know she didn’t visit me in the hospital. Not once. Eva told me that, but I don’t think she meant to. I would have known anyway because my memories have returned, and I recall hearing Eva in my room talking to me or the others who kept watch over me. I recall many of their visits even though they feel like wisps of dreams. Not once did I hear my mother’s voice.
The doctors never did solidify what they think happened to me. Why I remained unconscious and unresponsive for so long. There is a theory that it was my body’s reaction to the physical impact of the accident after such stressful months. A sort of PTSD. It scares me sometimes to think of it. To think it could happen again even though the rational part of me knows I’m safe. I haven’t told Santiago this. He already keeps vigil over me 24/7, and I don’t need him worrying any more than he already is.
I look down at Elena’s face as she stirs in her sleep when we get outside. It’s a chilly day, so I tuck her blankets closer.
I am sad about having missed her final months in my belly. Sad that she may have felt alone with me so unresponsive to her movements. At least I got to feel her once before everything.
I’m also sad I can’t breastfeed her. My milk never did come in. But Santiago reassures me that I will breastfeed all of our other children and that Elena will be fine. She is healthy and strong.
Looking at the photos the nurses managed to snap of him feeding her those first few days makes me giggle. He looks so uncomfortable, shoulders high with stress as he cradles this tiny thing against his bare chest while feeding her.
I reach up and squeeze his hand at the memory of those pictures.
When we get to the car, Marco is waiting with the door open. I try to get up on my own, but Santiago is beside me in an instant. Marco takes Elena as Santiago guides me into the car before taking Elena and strapping her into her car seat between us in the back seat.
Eva is here too. She’s already seated in the passenger seat typing out a text to someone. She’s going to stay with us even though we’ve stopped the legal process of taking over guardianship of her. There’s no need for it now that my father is alive and well, and Abel is out of the picture.
Abel. I won’t think about him yet. Not today.
Marco closes the door, and a moment later, Santiago settles on the other side of the car seat, and we’re driving back to The Manor. For the first time since I married Santiago, I am happy to go home. In fact, I can’t wait to get home and start our new life with our family.
41
Santiago
Over the next two weeks, Ivy and I settle into a comfortable rhythm. The specialists come to the house to work with her on rehabilitation every day, and every day, we see improvements. She's walking on her own now. Eating on her own. Taking care of Elena when she can, stubbornly proving to herself and everyone else that she's capable.
I never doubted for a second that she wasn't.
I'm proud of her. I feel it every time I look at her, and I understand that's what it is because I feel the same way watching our daughter grow and change every single day. We've all come leaps and bounds from where we used to be. But there are still a few lingering points of tension that haven't been brought up.
Abel, for starters.
At first, I didn't know what to think of Eli's intervention at The Tribunal. But now that I'm a father myself, I can see it for what it is. He did it for me, and he did it for Abel. He doesn't want me to ruin what I have with Ivy. And he feels responsible for the man Abel has become. At some point, he must have realized there was no stopping him. Seeing it from a different perspective, as a father myself, I can't imagine how difficult that decision must have been for him.