the babies died? What if Nic died? Jen had died. He’d been alone. He’d be alone again.
He was terrified.
They completed the trip to Gunnison in silence.
At the hospital, he pulled into the circular drive in front of the emergency entrance, shifted into park, and looked at her. Light from the emergency room sign turned her pale complexion bloodred. He saw both fear and urgency in her eyes and knew his own eyes must reflect the same emotions. “Wait here until I get help, okay?”
“Sure.”
Even before he rounded the Jeep, the ER’s automatic doors whooshed open and a man wearing scrubs pushed an empty wheelchair toward them. “Is this Mrs. Callahan?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Dr. Marshall is waiting for her.”
Gabe opened Nic’s door and he and the ER employee helped her into the chair. “If you’ll take the first right and go down to the end of the hall, Admitting has paperwork for you to sign, Mr. Callahan. Your wife will be to the left in room three. You’ll want to move your car before you join her.”
“Okay.”
Nic looked back over her shoulder at him, her expression rife with worry, her blue eyes pleading for him to hurry. He tried to smile reassuringly, but he simply couldn’t get his lips to lift.
Gabe made his way to Admitting. In his mind’s eye, he was back in a Virginia hospital, his clothing covered in blood—his blood, hers. Matt’s. Oh, God. Matty.
“May I have your insurance card?”
A policeman saying, His wife is DOA.
“Sir? Your insurance card?”
“What? Oh.” He winced. “Sorry.”
Blindly he signed whatever papers she put in front of him. Fear was a cold stone in his gut. Nic. The babies. What if I lose her? Lose them?
He dragged his feet returning to the ER. He was cold, wet, frozen. Terrified. Spying a men’s room, he detoured into it. He ran hot water into the sink, leaned over, and splashed his face. Words echoed in his mind. So sorry for your loss, Mr. Callahan. Such a tragedy. She was such a joyous spirit. Our condolences, Gabe.
He looked in the mirror, but didn’t see himself. He saw the fear in Nic’s eyes. The fear in Jen’s eyes. She knew she was dying. What about Nic? What about the babies?
He reached for a paper towel and dried his face, dried his hands. Saw blood on his hands, both real and imagined.
Someone else walked into the men’s room, so he walked out. He walked past the exit and found room three. He stood outside the curtained enclosure, numb, cold, and alone as he listened to Nic’s obstetrician asking a series of questions.
On the other side of the curtain, he heard Nic murmur a question he couldn’t make out. The doctor responded by saying, “I won’t lie to you, Nic. If you are in labor and we can’t stop it, the babies won’t survive.”
The babies won’t survive.
The boy has a traumatic brain injury. It’s only a matter of time.
The doctor continued, “We don’t have the facilities here to accommodate babies born at twenty-four weeks.”
But the words didn’t register. All Gabe heard was …
The babies won’t survive.
Your son is dead.
My family didn’t survive.
“My babies won’t survive,” he whispered.
Breathing heavily, his fists clenching and then releasing at his sides, Gabe backed away from the curtain and … broke.
He walked—almost ran—to the hospital exit. Dashing out into the rain, he climbed into the Jeep, started the engine, and shifted into gear.
Gabe drove away. Leaving his wife, his babies, and his self-respect behind.
EIGHTEEN
“Nic? Honey? What’s wrong?”
Nic tore her gaze away from the monitor and looked up to see her best friend in the world standing at the opening of the ER’s curtained cubicle. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Sarah.” She burst into tears.
Sarah rushed to the bed and put her hands on Nic’s shoulders. “Honey?”
“You came. You’re here.” Nic buried her head against Sarah’s chest and sobbed. Sarah held her tight, cooing, “It’s okay, Nic. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Nic cried and cried and cried. Sarah hugged and cuddled and comforted. When Nic finally wound down, Sarah softly asked, “The babies?”
“They’re okay.”
“Thank God. What happened? We were so worried—Celeste and Sage are with me, they’re parking the car. What happened? Gabe called me and said you were here and that you needed me. Then he hung up and hasn’t answered his phone since. I must have called twenty times.”
“He did it again, Sarah. He ran away from his feelings, only this time I needed him. I really, really needed him. I can’t believe he …”