Shattered & Mended (20 page)

He takes in a breath through his nose and releases a sigh. “I wouldn’t say he’s okay, but he’s alive.” Thank you, Jesus. I’ll deal with anything as long as his heart continues beating. No matter his injuries, we’ll get through it together.

After inflicting crucial pain on me, and asking me the dumbest question I’ve ever heard, the nurse leaves the room. There are such things as stupid questions, and the ‘on a scale from one to ten, what’s your pain level?’ tops the list. Seriously? You’ve cut me open and rearranged my insides, stapled me back up, and you expect me to tell you what? That I’m just fucking peachy? Not happening. 

“Allie,” Mom breathes, rushing to my side and embracing me gently. “How are you feeling?” Again?

“I’m hurting right now, but I’ll be fine once the meds kick in. Morphine,” I tell her.

“Ah, good stuff,” she smiles.

“Why are you wearing that?” I ask Wyatt, just now realizing the disposable surgical shoe covers, pants, and cap.

“I didn’t want you to go through it alone, again,” he explains. “Your mom and I tried to get to you when we first arrived, but they wouldn’t let us back. While everyone else was downstairs talking about the accident, I came up with a plan and snuck in.”

Okay, but how did he get in? “How did you get to me?”

“I may have told a small lie,” he admits.

“And? Go on,” I urge.

“I told them I was the father.”

He what! “You WHAT? They’re not yours!” He scoops my hand into his but I jerk it back.

“It’s the only way they’d let me in, Allie. I couldn’t let you do it on your own, and I needed to make sure you were okay. You can be pissed off if you want, but I won’t apologize.” I’m not pissed that he came to my rescue; in fact, I expect nothing less. I’m just upset that he experienced the birth of mine and Blake’s children. That’s something we were looking forward to experiencing together. Blake deserved to see the birth of his own children, not Wyatt. Wyatt missed his chance, and it’s not fair. Then again, life’s not fair. 

Twenty-Three

~Wyatt~

“You excited?” I ask, wheeling Allie down to see Baylee and Blaine in the NICU.

“I guess, maybe just a little,” she jokes. “Heck yeah, I feel empty without them.” She’s been doing pretty damn good walking around, considering the surgery she had a little less than fourteen hours ago. I wheel her through the doors and push her up to the sink. She stands, I help her scrub up, and I do the same. We check in, and the nurse leads us to the twins. 

Allie’s eyes gleam when they rest on her two sweet creations cuddled beside one another. The nurse reaches through the incubator and runs her finger along the arm of Allie’s tiny baby girl. “This little lady’s very small and seems to be having a difficult time adjusting to being outside the womb, so we decided to try some co-bedding with big brother. So far, it’s worked pretty well, actually. Sometimes the co-bedding helps them slowly adjust to being extra-uterine and helps weight
gain, and they both need to put on a few pounds,” she explains, reaching in the incubator and rubbing Baylee’s fragile arm with the tip of her finger.

“Can I hold them?” Allie asks.

“Of course,” the nurse replies, smiling genuinely.

She opens the incubator and picks up Blaine. He’s so small, she can cup him in both her hands. She hands him to Allie and begins to explain to her what the tubes are for and how to avoid pulling on them. Allie holds Blaine’s head to her chest and covers the top of his head with kisses. “Why now? They weren’t ready, Wyatt. Do you know how much I wanted to avoid seeing this place? I hate it here.” She’s beginning to cry, and dammit, I cry right along with her. I know it’s not easy seeing her babies so small and fragile, fighting to survive. 

“I know, but this is where they need to be, Allie. This place isn’t your enemy, baby. They’re here to help,” I console her. She continues to stare at Blaine and places her pinky into the palm of his tiny hand. She covers him in kisses and whispers into his ear, apologizing for failing him. “What makes you think you failed him?” I ask curiously.

“I vowed to protect them, both inside and outside of my womb. I didn’t. I fell into your trap, told Blake about what we did. He was taking me home. If it wasn’t for me being so weak
, we wouldn’t have argued, and they wouldn’t be in here.” She’s upset, but she and I both know she doesn’t regret what went on between us. 

“Al, you know this isn’t because of what we did. Shit happens. It has nothing to do with us. Some drunk ran a red light and caused this, not us,” I assure her.

She rolls her eyes and asks for Baylee. I call for the nurse, and she comes over and exchanges Blaine for Baylee. Baylee’s smaller than Blaine not by much, but you can tell she doesn’t weigh as much as her brother.

“You want to hold him?” the nurse asks me. I look to Allie and wait for her approval, but her eyes are lost in Baylee’s.

“Allie,” I say, clearing my throat to grab her attention. She nods, and the nurse lowers him into my arm. I hold him close to my heart just as Allie did and rock him. I feel a strong connection with this little dude, even though he’s a spitting image of his father. The sound of Allie giggling takes me by surprise. I tear my eyes off Blaine to see what’s funny. “What’s got you so giggly?” She rubs Baylee’s bald head softly.

“How her brother has more hair than she does. It’s so wrong.” She leans down and places a kiss to the top of her head. “I promise, princess, it’ll come in soon.” 

Princess? Hearing that name reminds me of our blue-eyed beauty, my princess. And as much as I want to tell her about the news, I’ll refrain. She’s had a rough twenty-four hours. Besides, I have ninety days until it’s final. It gives us plenty of time to talk about the outcome of my custody battle. 

As much as it pains Allie to leave the babies, sitting up is becoming too painful for her. We hand over Blaine and Baylee, and I take Allie back to her room. “Can you take me to see him?” She doesn’t have to clarify who ‘him’ I; I already know.

“How about you get some rest, and I’ll take you when you wake up?” She flinches from pain as she adjusts herself in the chair.

“Okay, but just an hour. Promise me you’ll wake me,” she orders.

Lord knows I’m not eager to take her to Blake, but I’m curious to see how he’s holding up. “Promise.”

***

True to my word, I wake Allie one hour later. I help her to the bathroom, put on her housecoat, and place those no--slip footie things on her feet. I want to push her in the wheelchair, but the nurses insist walking’s good for her. Lucille enters as I’m helping Allie stand from the bed.

“Where you goin’?”

Allie starts toward the door. “Going to see Blake. You comin’?” she asks, breathing through her discomfort. She refused her last dose of pain meds, stating she deserves the pain. 

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, not right now. He’s just waking up, medicated, and he needs his rest. Why don’t you get back into bed, and we’ll get you something for your pain. Clearly, you’re hurting; you’re biting a hole right through your lip.” Lucille takes Allie by the wrist, but she pulls away.

“No. I’m going to see him. I need to see him, and he needs me.” She swings open the door and hobbles out to the hall, and I take the wheelchair and follow behind.

We get to Blake’s room, and Allie asks me to stay outside. “You can go home if you want. I’ll be fine.” Is she out of her mind? I’m not leaving her until she can take care of herself. Blake sure as hell can’t take care of her, at least not right now.

“I’ll be here when you’re finished,” I inform her, taking a seat on the floor outside his door.

“Stubborn ass,” she sighs.

Damn right. 

I don’t know how long Allie’s been in there with Blake, but by the numbness in my ass
,
it’s been a while. Just before I stand up, Allie’s hauling ass out the door, bawling her eyes out. “What is it? Are you in pain? You know you can’t move that quickly. It’s too soon.”

She sits in the chair and hastily wipes away her tears. “Take me back to my room, please,” she chokes. Her eyes are filled with so many tears, they look as if they’re ready to float out of their sockets.  

When we’re inside the elevator, I kneel in front of her and lift her chin so her eyes meet mine. “Allie, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head and sobs. “I- he-” She can’t get her words out. The doors open and I take her back to her room. When Lucille sees Allie’s tear-soaked face, she breaks down. She helps her stand and holds her tight. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Lucille had an idea Al’s visit with Blake wouldn’t end well. She seemed hesitant about Allie visiting him, which was odd; Lucille’s very fond of Blake and Allie’s relationship. I’d figure she’d want nothing more than to have them reunite, especially after everything that’s happened. 

Lucille holds Allie’s head against her shoulder and rubs her hair. She whispers something in Allie’s ear then helps her back into bed. When she’s comfortable, she calls the nurse in, and Allie finally surrenders to the pain medication.

“Anyone care to tell me what’s going on? I’m not one hundred percent positive, but I assume you have an idea as to why she’s so upset,” I accuse Lucille. Al’s pain is so intense, she’s paying no attention to me or her mother.

Lucille nods slowly. “Unfortunately, I do.” 

Allie takes her meds and cries herself to sleep. Then, Lucille and I go down to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat. “Are you going to tell me why Allie got so upset seeing Blake?” I question.

“He has some memory loss. The amount of memory loss is unknown, but he doesn’t remember Allie being pregnant. In fact, he doesn’t remember Allie at all,” she informs, blinking back tears. Wow. Not expecting this. “And you let her go to see him anyway? Why?” I’m bewildered that she’d allow Allie to experience the heartache after all she’s been through. 

“I tried to stop her, remember? Besides, I was sort of hoping if he saw her, she’d trigger his memory. See, the thing with memory loss is no one knows if it’s temporary or permanent,” she explains, pausing to take a few bites of salad. “He remembers his parents, brother, and what he does for a living, but that’s about it,” she adds. Believe it or not, this information saddens me. Not because he’s lost his memory; I don’t give a shit about that. But if for some reason he doesn’t remember her, it’ll crush her. Although I complete her heart, he holds a major piece of it—two major pieces.  

“Besides
, the hurt she feels now is nothing compared to how she’s going to feel when she gets the news.” Not only is this an extremely vague statement, but Lucille looks to me as if I know what ‘news’ she’s speaking of.

“Oh yeah? What news?” She cocks her head and raises her brows, giving me the ‘you know what I’m talking about’ look. “I don’t know what news you’re referring to,” I tell her.

“The drunk driver who ran the red light,” she hints.

“Yeah, and?”

She sighs and drops her fork. “You know she didn’t make it, right?” How the hell am I supposed to know if the driver made it or not? I didn’t give a shit about anyone but Allie and the babies; no one else mattered. As long as those three hearts continued beating
, I didn’t care about anyone else’s. Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. I was happy to find out Blake was still alive. 

“One, I had no clue the driver was a female. Two, I don’t know why you’d think I’d know anything about the other driver. Please, just tell me what this driver has to do with Allie and how it’s going to affect her,” I sigh.

“Wyatt, the driver was Sophie.”

My breathing falters and my mouth hangs open, utterly astounded.

“I thought you already knew.” 

“No. No, I had no clue who the driver was.” I hang my head, pondering ways to mention this information to Allie. I know she was upset with Sophie, but they were close. And knowing how things between them ended, I know she isn’t going to take this easily. “How are we going to tell her?” Allie’s in a fragile state, especially after her incident with Blake.

“What do you mean, how? There’s no easy way to break the news of someone’s death, Wyatt. I can do it alone, but I prefer you be there. I know she plays hard to get, but she needs you more than she’s willing to admit,” she confides. As much as I hate to see my butterfly cry, I can’t let her deal with this on her own. 

After we’re finished with lunch and coming up with a plan on how to break the death of her best friend to her, we head back to her room. When we open her door, her bed’s vacant. I skim every inch of the room, including the bathroom, but she’s missing. “Where did she go?” Lucille asks, the worry clear in her voice.

To hell if I know, but the wheelchair’s still here. “She couldn’t have gone far. She can barely walk, and she left the chair behind.” I stalk past Lucille and go out to the nurse’s station. I ask if they saw where she went, but they aren’t aware she’s gone from her room. 

Rushing to the elevators, I go to the next place I believe she’ll be—with Blake. My shoulder slams against the steel doors as I rush out of them, not giving them time to separate. The pain I inflicted on myself earlier almost takes me down to my knees, almost. I suck up the pain and barge into Blake’s room, thoroughly and rapidly skimming every corner, but she’s not here. Only Blake and his bug-eyed parents stare back at me. Shit, she’s with the babies. I hear Lucille apologize and explain we’re looking for Al, but I hike it down the stairs to the NICU. She’s on pain medication, and she doesn’t need to pick those fragile angels up. 

When I get to the NICU, they ID me and I scrub up, and sure enough, Allie’s cuddling Blaine in her arms and rocking him as she weeps. I rush to her and kneel in front of the chair, blocking Blaine from any harm in case she loses her hold on him. Not that she’d intentionally do that; I know she’d never harm him. However, she’s under the influence of some strong drugs, and if he slips by accident, I’ll be right here to catch him. She keeps her head down and uses her finger to trace the side of Blaine’s cheek. 

“He looks just like him. He has his hair, his hypnotizing eyes, his nose and mouth. He’s a mini-Blake,” she sobs.

I remain quiet and place my hand onto her knee, letting her know I’m here for her. I don’t speak because that’s not what she needs. She just needs someone to listen and carry her burden, and I’m the man who’s willing to do just that. I promise to be her personal soldier and carry all the weight this world places on her shoulders. 

“Do you know how much it hurts to know he doesn’t know who I am? You can’t begin to understand how it kills me to know he doesn’t remember Blaine and Baylee. How? How is it he can forget us so easily, huh? After all the love he proclaims for us, telling me we’re his entire life … He just forgets about us?” She peppers Blaine’s face with tender motherly kisses, and her tears roll onto his cheek. Using the tip of my thumb
,
I reach up and gently wipe her tears away from his face. I rub his head and lean up to place a kiss on his forehead, then on Allie’s. “What are we going to do? I can’t do it alone,” she chokes. She leans up and smashes her face into my injured shoulder, sending sharp pains around my neck and down my arm. I have to get this taken care of. How can I care for her and the twins if I can’t lift the damn thing?

“You’re not doing it alone, Allie. I’m here for you, always,” I assure her. “Allie, I’ll be here for you, Blaine, and Baylee, no matter the outcome of Blake’s condition. If he never remembers, I’ll be here. If he remembers, I’ll still be here.”