The One Addicted(4)
Both Niall and I take a seat and bury our heads in our hands. The relief is overwhelming that she is OK. Niall’s guilt is eased somewhat and I grit my teeth in anger.
“Oh thank you so much, Mr. Porter - you saved my baby and I’ll never forget that - and our grandson.” Tears clog Nina Myers’ voice and I watch as Mac and her embrace, holding each other as huge waves of relief and happiness wash over them.
I clear my throat, and nudge Niall with my elbow, as he seems to have forgotten to retract his balls from the blonde pussy he’d banged earlier. “Yeah cheers, Mr. Porter - thank you so much for everything you have done.”
His calm and rather blasé acknowledgement is my undoing - it’s times like these I wish I still smoked. I can’t spend another minute in his presence - or God help me, the new baby would have both his parents lying in a hospital bed at death’s door.
I enter the side-room, apprehensive of what I will find on the other side. Nina and Mac are now in the nursery visiting with Niall and the baby and finally I am left alone to see for myself that my friend is stable.
I rub a hand over my head, and slide it down the side of my face, drawing it harshly up over my mouth as I’m hit with the shocking appearance of Lucia, lying small and pale and vulnerable in her maudlin hospital bed. The only light is a metal bed lamp, which glows dimly over the numerous machines monitoring her stats. It’s now 3am and the sky outside is beginning to lighten and rain taps incessantly at the windows. God, she looks weak. Nothing like the Lulu I’m used to.
All kinds of tubes, filter a cocktail of drugs into her arms, her pallor is deathly white. I bend over, careful so as not to mess with the medical paraphernalia and plant a gentle kiss on her cool cheek. She doesn’t flinch.
“She won’t wake don’t worry.” I spin at the sound of a bubbly voice behind me, as a nurse comes to monitor Lu’s observations. “She’s heavily sedated.”
“Will she be Ok?”
“Ahh don’t worry, love - she’s through the worst part now - just got to watch out for infection now. She’s one tough cookie your wife!”
I interrupt her, but it falls upon deaf ears. “Oh she’s not my wi…”
“And that little man - he’s a corker - so handsome, just like his daddy - you must be very proud.”
The nurse busily continues on with her tasks and I decide to stay mute. Her words have stung deep for some reason and for just those few seconds I’m happy with the knowledge that this woman thinks I am the man taking care of Lu and her son - rather me than that useless article next door.
Watching her beautiful face, her long dark lashes, fanned across her cheeks, and cute snub nose I consider that although I’m not sure I’ll ever marry, deep down I like the sound of Lucia being my wife. She’d certainly never bore me!
“Yes - your wife was very lucky in there to have the right people at the right time - could have been very different for her and the baby. Not often we see such drama on these wards.”
I run a hand over her brow. Poor Lu - drama followed her around, whether she wanted it to or not. I still can’t wrap my head around the image of Niall fucking his work colleague, whilst his pregnant girlfriend was doubled over in labour - in agony and vulnerable - just waiting. And no one came. She should have called me!
She wouldn’t have called you first though would she? You’re not the father.
No. That wanker of an ex-friend of mine was and I’m now going to have to act like I didn’t know about his indiscretions. I couldn’t tell her - well not yet anyway. She’d be hormonal and irrational and needed to focus on getting well - for herself and the baby now. No, the time would come but deep down I fear Lu needed to figure this one out for herself - rightly or wrongly, this was something to be sorted between themselves.
I stroke her hand, which is now free of her customary nail polish - it looked small and childlike in my large palm and clasping it loosely in my own, I give her a quick supportive squeeze. As I draw her fingers to my lips, I take a deep grateful breath, calm my thoughts and lay a kiss at the tips. I need to get out of here, I feel suffocated and beyond wound up - my fists still itch to plant one on my supposed mates' pathetic jaw.
Satisfied that the patient is not in any pain, appears settled and is through the worst, I head off in the direction of the nursery to see the ‘little man’. What a fucking night! I’m not sure fatherhood will ever be for me!
I feel physically and emotionally drained and need time to reflect upon things after a good night’s sleep. The sheer panic I’d felt and lack of control over the whole emergency situation had gripped me with a force greater than I’d ever experienced before! Something I never wanted to repeat in this lifetime. The full force of my feelings for Lucia had hit me like a freight train and now was not the time to be dealing with them - much better to bury them and return to them at a later date, if ever.