And yet, our whole world just changed.
She’ll be devastated. Fuck, I’m devastated. After the shock wore off, we were both excited about the baby.
But we can have another. We have our whole lives ahead of us. I pull her ring out of my pocket and slip it onto her finger.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper as tears fall down my cheeks. Suddenly there’s a hand on my shoulder, startling me.
“She’s a strong girl,” my mother says, tears falling from her own eyes. “I’m so sorry about your bambino.” She kisses my head and sits across from me.
“Me too.” I can’t take my eyes off of Cami. “Why did this happen? And I don’t want to hear that everything happens for a reason, because that’s bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth,” Mama orders, making my lips twitch. “We don’t know why this happened, and I know that makes you angry. Did you know that your father and I lost a baby after Mia?”
My eyes whip over to hers. The room is softly lit, making it difficult to see her face. “What?”
“We did,” she says softly. “And there was no logical explanation. It just happens, Landon. And it breaks your heart.”
I nod and lean my forehead against Cami’s hand. I’m ready for her to wake up. I want to see her beautiful eyes and kiss her. I need her.
“It will make you stronger, and one day, when you are blessed with other children, it will make you that much more thankful for them.”
“I just need to make sure that Cami’s okay,” I reply. “As long as she’s healthy, that’s all that matters.”
“She’s a strong girl,” Mama repeats, and reaches across to pat my hand over Cami’s. “And she loves you more than anything in this world. She always has. She’ll blame herself.”
“It’s not her fault.” I frown and shake my head. “That’s silly.”
“Grief isn’t logical. She’ll blame herself and she’ll feel that she’s let you down. Be careful with her for a little while.”
I nod. “Thank you, Mama. Will you tell the others that they can come in to see her after she wakes up?”
“I guess that’s my dismissal, then,” she says with a smile. “I’ll leave you with your girl.” She circles the bed and stops to kiss me once more. “I’m so sorry for your hurt, my sweet boy.”
I want to weep in her arms, comforted the way only a mother can, but I nod and gruffly say, “Thank you.”
Mama leaves, and I lean on the bed, Cami’s hand firmly in mine, and close my eyes, listening to the rhythm of her breathing until I’m lulled to sleep beside her.
Chapter 19
~Cami~
Everything is fuzzy. My head, my thoughts, even my fingers feel fuzzy, but someone is holding my left hand.
I think I’m sore. I try to open my eyes, but they’re so damn heavy. Everything is fuzzy and heavy.
“Cami?”
Landon! Landon’s here. But he’s not supposed to be here. I frown and fight harder to open my eyes, but they’re fuzzy too.
I blink and turn my head, relieved to see that it’s Landon holding my hand. He looks tired, and his blue eyes are worried.
“Hi, baby,” he whispers, and kisses my cheek.
“Hi,” I reply¸ but my throat is dry. “Water.”
“Here.” He lifts a straw to my lips and I drink eagerly, so damn thirsty. I drain the glass and settle back against the bed again. “How do you feel?”
“Fuzzy,” I reply, my voice more normal, but weak. “Sore.” I frown when tears fill Landon’s eyes, and then it all comes back to me. All of the pain and the fear, and the doctor telling me that I’d have to lose the baby. Oh God, did they tell Landon? I grip his hand in mine and he leans toward me. “Did they tell you?”
He nods.
“I lost our baby,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.” Tears fill my eyes now and fall on my cheeks, but I don’t care. Our baby is gone. But Landon just folds me in his arms so I can bury my face in his shoulder, and gently hugs me, running his fingers through my hair and murmuring sweet words to me.
“It’s not your fault,” he says. “And I’m sorry too. I was excited for the baby too.”
I know, and I’ve disappointed you. I can’t bear it. I didn’t get the chance to feel it, or hold it, and we’d only known about it for a short time, but I was already so excited to meet him or her, and now we never will.
The tears come in earnest now, and I cling to him, sobbing against him. Finally, he pulls back and wipes my tears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” I reply, and cup his cheek in my hand. His stubble scratches my palm, but I like it. “There wasn’t anything anyone could do.”
“I could have taken you to the hospital sooner,” he says gruffly. “I should have taken care of you.”
“I’m okay,” I reply, and pull him in for a sweet kiss. “I’m sad, but I’m going to be just fine. But I’m so very sorry that I lost our baby.”
“Sweetheart, we’ll have more babies. We’ll have as many as you want.”
Before I can answer him, there’s a knock on the door and a doctor walks into the room.
“It’s good to see you’re awake,” he says, and smiles kindly. “How is your pain?”
“I’m sore,” I reply, and flinch when I try to shift my hips.