Infinity(40)

“Colin,” I coax. “Come crawl in bed and snuggle with me before they bring Elizabeth back for another feeding.”

He picks his head up and looks at me with haunting, empty, eyes. “Charlie,” he warns. “I don’t have it in me yet to discuss names.”

I smile sweetly. “All the more reason that I should go ahead and fill out the birth certificate.” I’ve chosen Elizabeth because it’s Liza’s full name, and she helped me remove my wet clothes. Plus, it’s a really great name.

He stands and walks toward the bed, doing his best impression of a little old man. His shoulders are slumped, and his head is hung. I use my hands and arms to move my sore body all the way to the edge, making enough room for him to lie on his side.

He’s still shirtless, and I notice that there are traces of dark brown blood on his blue jeans. I’m not sure whose blood it is, and I don’t dare ask. Colin is not mentally ready to acknowledge the blood yet. That I do know.

He lies down on his side on top of the sheets, and he gingerly rolls me so that my back is to his front. He drapes his left arm over my body, resting his massive hand on my deflating abdomen.

I know that I’m going to have to be the one that does the talking. He’s still not ready to verbalize what he just witnessed. “So, you got a daddy’s girl, huh?”

His light chuckle presses his chest tighter against my back. “After the amount of Whoppers, fries, and shakes that you ate, I was expecting a twelve-pound offensive lineman.”

“Disappointed?” I ask keeping my voice neutral, but hoping that he’s not.

“Are you kidding me? Daughters love their daddies forever. No. I deserve her after the horrible thoughts I’ve had about your father, and the way that I treated my ex-wife. God’s laughing,” he whispers with a hint of sourness in his voice.

I hate that he mentioned his ex-wife. It’s not that I’m jealous or bitter that he was married before. Colin feels a tremendous amount of guilt when it comes to her. I’ve agreed with him that some of it is merited, but he’s got to let it go. The birth of our daughter should mark the time when he forgives himself for hurting her.

Just as I’m about to tell him all this, he continues, “She’s going to be dating some douchebag like Aiden or me, and he’s going to make her cry, and I’m going to behave just like Jack Collins, except I’ll probably kill the fucker.”

We lie there in complete silence, and it’s the most peace that I’ve felt since Colin and the boys started their playoff run. The lights are off in the hospital room except for a nightlight that’s casting odd shadows on the ceiling from some of the medical equipment left in the room. The blinds are closed and curtains drawn, so we don’t even have moonlight.

As my eyes drift closed, in a choked voice Colin says, “That’s the most intense thing that I’ve ever experienced.” He pauses and swallows deeply, and keeps going. “All the blood… and your yelling… and I couldn’t make it better for you… I couldn’t help you.”

He pulls me tighter against him. He whispers so quietly that I’m not certain that I’m actually hearing him. “I asked God that if I could only have one of you, that you’d be okay.”

He buries his face in my wet hair that’s slipped out of the clip holding it at bay. “I can’t watch that again, Caroline. You can’t put yourself in a situation that made me witness my greatest fear.”

He swallows deeply again, and then chokes out, “I thought you were going to die.”

“Honey,” I try to reassure him. “You just witnessed childbirth without drugs. Doctor Starr would never have let anything happen to me or the baby.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Care,” he spits out.

When I open my mouth to say something else on the subject, he cuts me off. “Stop,” he yells making me jump. “I can’t discuss it anymore. It’s over,” he says in a normal talking tone. “You’re fine. You’re here with me. But, so help me God, Caroline, you need to give me some time to cope with the birth of our daughter. If that makes me a little more neurotic with you then get the fuck over it.”

Well, I guess I just got put in my place. I lie there silently, feeling his heartbeat race against my back. My mind is turning over ways that I can help him, to reassure him that I’m okay, but I keep coming up blank. I pray that just me lying next to him is enough.

“Yesterday was the worst day of my life.” He drops a statement like that and doesn’t follow it up with an explanation, but the tightness of his body betrays how truly upset he is. I can almost feel him vibrating with tension.