Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (33 page)

"I almost lost you. I can't even think about it. I was afraid to breathe for three days.” He takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes. He appears to be composing himself, although I don’t miss the tears forming in his eyes. “But you're here, plus one."

He smirks and I chuckle, eliciting another wince of pain.

He gives me an admonishing glare and kisses me on the tip of the nose before sitting back and resuming his ice chip service. "Okay. Enough laughing, baby. You're going to pull something."

I LIE RESTING IN the hospital bed, Owen at my side, watching some kind of news report on the television. My folks are on their way, and Owen just got a call that they’re not too far out. Knowing they are almost here has my anxiety level growing with every passing minute. I already told Charley about the baby in a moment of desperate need to share it with someone safe, but while my parents know now, it’s not because
I
have told them. I have had intense guilt since I told Charley, guilt that she knew before Owen did, a detail I haven’t told him and since have instructed Marc and Charley to carry to the grave. But the guilt that I haven’t told my parents or Simon and Reese is overwhelming.

I’ve never had to think twice about what I’ve told my parents, and with the exception of the Jay debacle, I’ve never worried about what they would say. My parents were critical of our breakup—critical of me, that is—and while there was tension during that time, my parents not only have recovered from any feelings they had about Jay and me, but have in fact been apologetic at their way of handling our breakup. I think they both were hoping he would be ‘the one,’ and when he turned out not to be, it broke them a bit.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. I have to make amends for having not told them today, and I’m nervous as hell.

“You look tense, Olivia. What’s up?” Owen asks, concern etched on his face.

“I’m a little nervous about my folks. Telling them about the baby.”

Owen smiles at me and gives my hand a squeeze. “What are you nervous about? They already know!”

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them in person yet. I know you say they were happy, but a conversation with you and a conversation with me are two different stories.” My mother is a full-blown Owen fan, and he can basically do no wrong. I, on the other hand, remain the daughter who can.

Owen’s smile grows brighter as he recounts their discussion about the baby. “Your mom basically exploded with happiness. Shit, she loves me. She’s going to probably explode again today!” He has pride written all over his face and it’s adorable. “Your dad, on the other hand, is happy but may or may not still want to kick my ass for knocking you up without...you know...marrying you.” His voice drops a bit.

Marriage is a very tense subject for Owen, and while I know we need to discuss it more at some point, I’ve been careful to dodge it for the time being.

“It’s going to be fine, baby.” Owen stands and leans over me, his hands bracing his weight on either side of me. He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. “Don’t stress, baby. It will be fine.”

He brushes my lips again but then slides his tongue against the seam. I open readily for him, wanting and missing his kisses. Owen groans as he deepens the kiss, and I run my hand up his arm and wrap it around the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“Ahem,” we hear a male voice say from the door to my room. A male voice that sounds just like my daddy.

Owen gives me one last peck on the lips and stands, turning to greet my parents. He reaches out to shake my father’s hands as my mother rushes to my side.

“Good to see you, Mr. Burke.”

My father returns the greeting and comes to stand beside me, Owen moving out of the way. Behind them, he nods and gives me a wink.

“Oh my God, my sweet baby girl!” my mother sobs with tears streaming down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry, really. I’m fine. A little banged up, but overall, I’m doing great!”

My father leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my forehead. My mother grabs a chair and pulls it to the bedside, my father doing the same. Owen has found himself a spot by the window, out of the way. We go through the list of things that have happened, although they have heard it all already—the story of the accident and how Owen was first to the scene. My mother expresses that she feels that was karmic and smiles warmly at Owen. My father is still blown away at the coincidence and looks Owen’s way, nodding.

My mother looks down at me, squeezes my hand, and then drops her gaze to my belly. I watch her face morph from worry to pure, unadulterated joy, and a tear falls from her eye to the blanket. With her other hand, she softly strokes my stomach and then turns to me.

“Olivia...my little Olivia. You’re going to be a mommy.” She says this quietly, almost reverently, as if it’s a secret to be shared only between us.

My eyes fill with tears and I nod, the lump in my throat keeping me from being able to say anything. She smiles—a warm, mother’s smile.

“Thank you,” she whispers, again as if just for us, and leans forward, planting a kiss on my forehead.

My father comes over and kisses me on the cheek. “All right, Lily. Stop the blubbering already,” he scoffs. He sounds annoyed, but by the look on his face and the tears in his eyes, he’s far from it.

I look over at Owen, who is still in his chair by the window, enjoying our interaction, and beaming with an ‘I told you so’ grin on his face.

“Congratulations, pumpkin. No child will have a better set of parents. We’re so happy for you.” He bends to give me a kiss on the cheek, before patting my hand in that way only a dad can. He stands straighter and, to my horror, says, “Now, Owen, when are you going to make an honest woman of my Olivia?”

I think I’m going to pass out.

Owen is not only not ready for this conversation, but he likely won’t react well to having been called out by my dad. I look over to Owen, who has visibly stiffened, his once smiling face now very,
very
, serious. He stands and makes his way next to me, my mother moving so he can be by my side. He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles and then lifts his head, looking my father directly in the eyes.

“Mr. Burke, if you’ll excuse me, I’m just barely absorbing the accident and the fact that I’m going to be a dad. If you don’t mind giving me a few days to chew on all that...I’ll be happy to answer your question.”

I’m shocked silent. I don’t know what’s more odd—Owen’s quick and really well-played response or the fact that he has charmed my freaking father. His skills know no gender!

“That’s a response I can respect, Owen.” My father reaches across me and the men vigorously shake hands, my father eventually pulling him into a bro hug over my bed.

I feel like I have stepped into some alternate universe, but I’m not complaining. I wonder if this is just Owen’s way to shut my father up or does he really intend to, eventually, follow through on making me an ‘honest’ woman? My heart pounds and swells at the notion that, one day, Owen will want us to be married.

After some time, the nurse comes into my room to inform us that visiting hours are over. My parents say their goodbyes and share that they’re grateful Owen is staying with me. Simon and Reese will be coming tomorrow, and my mother tells me how excited they are to be an auntie and uncle. When my parents leave, Owen comes back to sit in his uncomfortable regular chair, but I stop him. He looks at me quizzically as I pull my blankets back.

“Come here,” I say seductively.

Shooting his eyes toward the door, he walks over to close it. Then he comes back to me, the ‘sexy Owen’ grin on his face. Cheeky bastard. He slides into bed with me and we cuddle with my head on his chest. We both sigh, clearly reveling in the comfort of our connection. We don’t need sex all the time. Sometimes, it’s comforting to only hold each other, and this is definitely one of those times. I’ve missed this so much.

“That went well I think,” he whispers into my hair.

“I think so too. My mom has been waiting for this moment. I’m sure it’s killing her to not tell everyone she knows.”

We were explicit with my mother that we want to wait to announce the pregnancy until I’m through my first trimester. It’s traditional to do this anyway, but with the accident, we feel it’s that much more important. We both laugh at the image of her restraining herself amongst her friends, and when we settle down, Owen kisses the top of my head.

“Olivia, I love you so much. Thank you for making me so happy.”

I lean forward and kiss him on the chest. “Thank you for giving me reason to.”

With that, we both settle down, drifting off into sleep. My world is slowly healing and coming together, and my sleep is found with a smile on my face and a tear of sheer bliss.

“I COULD HAVE SAVED them…didn’t look hard enough… I’m sorry…so…so sorry…couldn’t find—”

“Owen…”

Shake.

Push.

“Owen, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”

Push.

Nudge.

Shake.

I can faintly hear Olivia’s voice calling to me. I feel like I’m caught between two worlds—between the past and the present. I want to be back in the present. I desperately need to get back to my life with Olivia rather than suffer through the hell of these tragic memories. Part of my mind is mourning the loss and reliving the guilt of the deaths of those innocent girls and the other is fighting to leave all of it and cling to Liv.

“
Owen
!” Olivia screams. “Owen, you’re really starting to scare me! Wake up! Please!” Her voice is shaky, and I can hear that she’s on the verge of tears.

As if pushing back into my body, I wake and inhale deeply like I’ve been without air for minutes. My arms flail and I narrowly miss Olivia as she ducks to the side to avoid being hit in the head. I struggle to sit up in bed, drenched in sweat. I swivel my head to look at Olivia, who is cowered in the corner of the bed and giving me a wide berth.
Great. Now she’s scared of me… I deserve this
. I turn away, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I…I’m okay,” I mutter calmly, trying to keep my emotions in check but to no avail.

I run my fingers through my damp hair and tug sharply, frustrated and angry with myself. I’ve had a good run with keeping the nightmares at bay, but since finding out about Olivia’s pregnancy, I’m more stressed out and on edge than normal.