"If things turn for the worst, I'm hoping you will name our child with my last name? I want him or her to have something of me."
My body racks with sobs. The thought of Drake thinking about this breaks my heart. It simply, fucking, breaks me into pieces.
"When the time comes, I want you to move on. I want my child to have a good loving home and a good father figure for him or her. Will you … promise me that, Lil?"
How can I promise him something so repulsive? I don't want anyone else. I want him.
Drake.
No one else.
I lift my face off his chest and look at the man whose fighting spirit is non-existent. "No. I won't promise you that. I will never fucking promise you that, Drake Tatum. There will be no other man, except you, do you hear me? So, get your ass in gear because you will survive this. You can and you will do this because if you don't, I will fucking die without you. Do you hear me? Yeah, I will die from heartache. So, please, don't do that to me." My chest aches and contracts when I speak those words to him. I mean each and every one of them.
That definitely shut his ‘move on after I die' speech. He even manages to laugh, though it sounds like it is a lot of struggle to do so. At least he's smiling again. "Damn, you are right woman. I forgot how stubborn you are." His eyes trace my face, studying me with great intensity. "I've always loved you. I think I fell in love with you after we did that fake marriage in the gazebo. I'm sorry I fought against it. I was stupid and young."
"I knew you set me up for a good reason." I laugh. Our laughter is short lived when the nurses come and inform us that it's time for Drake to go to the OR.
We hold hands as they slowly wheel him out of the room. Once we get to the OR, the nurse informs us that this is the furthest that I can go. My heart dreads and aches as I watch Drake say his goodbyes to his parents. My mom hugs him fiercely before leaving me to talk to Drake.
I give him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I will see you very soon. Think of me and our future together while you're dreaming, okay? I love you, Drake."
That seems to put him in good spirits. Good. We need all the help we can get to make him fight inside the operating room. "I will see you very soon. I love you, Babe."
I give him another kiss before the nurse takes him away from me. I stare at the door and pray to God that he will bring Drake back to me.
There's nothing I can do, but hope for the best.
25
We vigilantly wait for hours on end and don't leave the waiting room area until we hear news from the doctors inside.
The waiting part is the worst battle anyone can be faced with.
We almost jump in our seats when the doctor approaches us.
"The operation was a success. He's doing fine, but he's still not in the clear. He should be out very soon."
He's about to leave, but I stop him. "Wait! What do you mean exactly by ‘he's still not in the clear'?"
"That there are still a lot of possibilities for him to have complications."
I merely nod my head before he leaves us and goes back inside the OR. Fear grips me, making it hard for me to breathe.
"Sit down, Lil, and try to relax. He should be out soon." Mom tries to calm me down as she guides me back to my seat.
After over an hour, Drake is finally back in his private room looking as pale as ever. I'm alone in the room, the rest are out in the connected private sitting room. I stand at the foot of the bed, staring at him, scared and helpless.
When I glance back at the monitor, I notice that the digits are starting to decline. "Mom?"
"Mom!!!" I scream.
"What? What's wrong?" Hugh comes inside. He glances at the monitor when it starts to beep.
"No, not again!" Hugh panics, but manages to call for the nurse.
Mom and Patricia start to look frightened. When the nurse comes and reassures us that it's normal for the blood pressure to drop after a surgery, it doesn't help ease my worries.
The nurse then checks for dehydration and whatever else that is needed. I watch it all, still stuck at the foot of the bed.
"Lily! You're bleeding!" Patricia yells, horrified as she looks at my blood stained jeans.
The blood is seeping through my jeans quickly. I look up at them, powerless. "What's happening?" I whisper. Tears start to form in my eyes, blurring everything.
That's the last thing I say before everything goes black, darkness takes me in.
When I wake up the next day, Mom and Colin are in the room with me. Mom is silently crying while Colin tries to soothe her.
"The baby?" I croak out. It's the first thing that enters my brain when I wake up.
Mom sadly shakes her head, tearing up again.
My throat constricts, but I swallow back the tears. I can't fall apart now, Drake is still in danger. "Drake?"
"He's fine. He's stable now," Colin manages to respond because Mom is still crying.
"Can you guys take me home? I want to be alone."
"The doctor advises that you stay the night, so they can monitor you," Colin says with worry, knowing where my thoughts are heading.
"I'll rest at home. I promise, I will. I want to be discharged, please? I need to be alone, please," I beg them both.
"Is that what you really want, Sweetie?" Mom asks, understanding my need to be alone.
I give her a small nod. "Yes."
"Okay," Mom whispers before she gets up to take care of it.
Half an hour later, Colin and Mom are driving me home. I declined when they asked me if I wanted to visit Drake before I left. I couldn't handle it.
Not in the state that I'm in, not without having a nervous breakdown.
When Colin parks outside my house, I tell him to stay in the car. Mom helps me out and walks me to the door. "I can take it from here, Mom. Tell Pat and Hugh I will be there in a day or two."
Mom hugs me. "I love you. I want to be here for you, but it seems that you need to be on your own. I don't agree with this, but I am going to respect your need for privacy. I'm a phone call away," she reminds me.
"I love you, too," I whisper, trying to hold it together.
She waits for me to get in the house before she turns and leaves with Colin.
I don't bother turning on the lights. The darkness suits my feeling and my mood. It's odd when I walk. There is this weird hollowness in my stomach. There's only a hint of pain to remind me that I lost something today.
I feel completely empty.
When I get upstairs, instead of going directly into my bedroom, I go across the hall to the other room. I stand against the door, my hand gripping the handle. I slowly open it and go inside.
That very same day when Drake got into the car accident, I spent all morning painting and rearranging the small bedroom. Taking out things that weren't needed, so I would have space for a crib, a diaper changing station, a rocking chair; the things I had ordered online that day.
The eggshell colored paintjob is only halfway done; I remember thinking that I would have all the next day to finish it.
There it was, unfinished. Just like my pregnancy.
I wanted that baby. I was excited to have something to look forward to, but it was short-lived.
A dying scream comes from me before I curl up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
I'm crying for my dad. For Drake.
But most of all, I cry for the baby I never got the chance to know, to hold. The baby I loved will just be in my memory. Forever stuck there, frozen.
26
The next day, I wake still curled up on the floor. I slowly stand and go inside my bedroom to cry more in bed.
I need to cry it out before I head back to the hospital tomorrow. If Drake wakes up and sees me in a terrible state, I don't want him to blame himself.
He'd think it was his fault that I lost the baby, but I know it is mine. I was negligent. I barely ate; especially, with the stress level I was going through with Drake. I was advised to take proper nutrition and hydrate all the time, but I didn't. It's my fault that I lost my baby.
When I wake the following morning, Mom is downstairs cooking me breakfast. "Good morning. Drake's awake. I came by to make sure you're doing fine and to tell you the news."
I feel relief, but not enough to dull the pain inside me. The hollowness hasn't left me. "I will be going out to see him later."
Mom plants a plate before me, mushroom and cheese omelet with a glass of orange juice. She then kisses my forehead and whispers, "Stay strong. There's no one to blame. Sometimes life has its own way of dealing with things. I'm sorry you have to go through this, though. Do you want to talk about it?"
My chest feels heavy. Each breath I take hurts. "No, I need time to cope with it first. Don't tell Drake anything yet."
"We know. It isn't our place to tell him that. Whenever you're ready, then you can do that yourself."
I silently eat my breakfast. I'm not hungry, but I force it down, anyway.
Mom waits until I'm ready to head back to the hospital. I'm relieved to find Drake sleeping when I get there.