like countless machines. All of them dedicated to keeping the tiny being sleeping soundly inside alive.
For a while, there was nothing but the beeping of the machines to fill the room.
“Have you—” my father started to speak only to pause. His voice had been thick with emotion as he struggled to find the right words—or perhaps the courage to speak them for fear of heartbreak. I held my breath, knowing what he was about to ask. “Have you thought about what I said? Have you reconsidered?”
I didn’t want to, but slowly, I shook my head as I kept my gaze directed out the window. I hated to hurt my father, but he had to understand that I was doing what was best for everyone. My heart had become a withered wasteland. Love no longer bloomed there. “I’ve already contacted a specialist. We meet next week.”
A moment later, my father stood, and without a word, he left the room. Only then did I release the breath I’d been holding. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but a small sound, not quite a cry, finally drew my gaze from the window. As if on autopilot, I stood, and in two steps, I was standing over the incubator, staring into a set of gray eyes that I knew would change color in the coming months. I couldn’t help but wonder if they would be whiskey like mine or jade like his father’s. My heart cracked, knowing that I’d never know.
“I know you must hate me,” I whispered as he continued to stare through the plastic walls keeping him safe. His movements were more controlled now as he kicked his arms and legs, and although he was still pale, his skin had darkened considerably from the translucent he’d been when he was born. The only thing he wore was a diaper and a blue cap on his tiny head, which covered the wisps of hair I knew were hidden underneath. It was a far cry from all the wires and tubes when he was born. After weeks of watching him fight for every breath, my heart had nearly stopped when his doctor finally removed the ventilator. I must have kept watch for hours, fearing the worst though he didn’t seem to mind. Despite his miniature size, he was much bigger than the meager two pounds he weighed when he was born.
“I hate me.”
My finger drifted over the glass, drawing countless hearts in lieu of reaching inside and caressing his cheek like I ached to do. It had been the hardest thing, not touching or holding him, even when the doctors had given me the green light.
“I promise you,” I whispered as I drew another heart, “I’m going to find you a father who deserves you and a mother who isn’t too broken to love you. I’m going to find you a home.”
Slowly, my fingers began to trace letters instead of hearts.
R. I. V.
“It’s all that I have to give, but it’s yours.” Ignoring the tear that slipped from my eye, I traced the final letters of his name as the dark, deserted moor inside my chest twisted painfully. “River.”
I awoke with a start hours later. My heart was beating out of control, making me wonder if I’d been having a nightmare I couldn’t recall now that I was awake. I blinked, and the moment my eyes adjusted, I looked around the dark room. The only light peeked through the swaying curtains from the hallway. I frowned before quickly waving off my paranoia. The hospital prided itself on the NICU’s around-the-clock care. A nurse must have stepped in for a moment to check on River.
Sitting up, I listened for sounds beyond the beeping of the machines and the occasional footsteps of a nurse or restless parent passing. Unlike my gut, twisting and turning, the NICU had settled for the night.
Hearing Lou’s warning in my head to listen to my instincts, my gaze shifted toward the incubator where River slept. A moment later, I stood from the pull-out sofa before making my way over. Even in the dark, I could see that he was sleeping soundly. Somehow, I still found myself curling into the recliner between the incubator and sofa bed. From there, I kept one watchful eye on the baby and the other on the door for the rest of the night.
“Good morning,” I greeted Nurse Honey as everyone called her because she was sweet as pie. I secretly smiled, knowing Jamie would