Incredible Beauty (So Many Reasons 2)

I wonder who he is texting. Is it Claire?

"Mr. Anderson," a male voice announces. I can't place the voice and the more I try to figure out what the hell is going on, the more my head hurts. Next to me I hear the sound of the cushion on the seat filling with air as Simon stands up. I know he’s standing up because he has let go of my hand. The warmth that was being kept inside is slowly seeping out.

"How is she?" Simon's voice is low and there is a rawness to his tone. Has he been crying?

"Let's talk outside," the doctor says.

No! I want to scream, talk in here. I so badly need to know what's going on. I listen as their footsteps fade into the hallway. I want to scream, or cry, or just let someone know I'm here, but I can’t.

Am I dying?

I'm not in much pain, apart from the dull throbbing ache in my head. It's not knowing what the hell is going on that is upsetting me the most. It's always been that way, the uncertainty driving me crazy and I know that stems back to my childhood. Strangely, I'm so damn thirsty and though the muscles in my throat don’t react to the tube that is shoved down it, it’s so uncomfortable.

My heart jumps as a hand touches my arm.

"Hi Emma, how are you today, honey? It's Lucy again," her voice is friendly and warm and no more familiar than the male voice. She obviously knows who I am though. Her hand runs over my stomach and my breath catches in my throat. "And how's the little one?"

The relief that floods through me is indescribable, the steady beeping speeds up slightly, which makes me think it's a heart monitor. That and the fact that it’s actually beeping in sync with the pounding in my chest.

Bean. She must be still alive. In actual fact I have no idea whether we’re having a boy or a girl, but I have a feeling. Either way, I will be happy. Lucy's fingers rest on my wrist and I know she is taking my pulse.

"I'm just going to put the thermometer in your ear, okay?"

Knowing what to expect makes it much less scary. I assu

me Lucy is my nurse and I love her for talking to me, even though I'm not responsive. I make a mental note to hunt her down and thank her when I recover…if I recover…

"All good, Emma. Your vitals are steady and so are your baby's." Her voice is soothing as her hand strokes my forehead, a gesture I find reassuring. I hear footsteps and the voices of the doctor and Simon. I strain to listen to what they are saying but all I catch are odd words.

Baby. Surgery. Coma. Embolism.

Those four words make me wish I couldn't hear. Would this be better if I just went to sleep and woke up when I came out of this coma, or whatever it was? Or didn't?

"Her vitals are stable, I've been giving regular IV fluid and pain relief," Lucy says, now sounding like she's standing at the foot of the bed, or at least no longer next to me.

"Good. Well, we just wait. I want hourly fetal heart readings and let me know if there are any changes. If we can keep her in there for another week, she’ll have the best chance, then I think the best option will be to get her out. The less stress on Emma, the better her chances at recovery are. Any change I want to know about, okay?" he says clearly.

The doctor's words leave me feeling a mix of joy and sadness.

He’d said ‘her’ as in a girl.

My little girl. I'm going to have a daughter. Pride swells inside of me like a giant wave running onto a sandy shore, but along with the joy, I feel anger. Anger that I can't remember what came before this and that I can’t be there for Simon. Just the thought of how hard this must be for him makes me want to cry.

Simon’s hand encases mine again and I instantly feel my body relax.

“We’re having a little girl, Em, just like you said. I should’ve let you buy the pink paint after all,” he chuckles sadly. I want to laugh as I remember our little argument in the paint store. “You have to hold on, okay? I’m not doing this without you.”

All I want to do is comfort him and it’s hell knowing that I can’t. The feeling of helplessness is torture and I vow to do all I can to be there for him in the future.

Chapter Fourteen

Simon

I slammed the front door closed, with much more force than was necessary in a bid to let some of my anger out. I'd only agreed to leave her side because the doctors thought having some familiar things around her might help. I’d agreed to drive home, get some sleep and come back with some of her things.

Only there was no way I was going to sleep. And I wasn’t stupid enough to drive on no sleep, so I’d already ordered the cab.

A coma. How the fuck did this happen? I knew things were going too well, I fucking knew it. I unbuttoned my shirt and discarded it on the floor. I probably needed a shower, but I didn’t have time. I grabbed a clean tee shirt and slid it over my head, pulling it down over my chest. Next, I loosened my pants, stepping out of them as they fell to the ground. I shuffled through the clean laundry in the dryer and retrieved a clean pair of boxers and jeans.