Ashes (Web of Desire #3) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,60
see the positive.
Two months ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever see my child, and now I was not only with her but also naming her.
Irina smiled. “Yes, child. Give it some thought.”
“I will.”
The next ten days were spent in constant vigil. I slept when I could, taking small naps in my bed and longer ones in the chair at my baby’s bedside. The summer heat continued outside, yet I stayed within the confines of my suite and the nursery. While Irina and Dr. Kotov came and went as well as others of Andros’s staff, I hadn’t seen him, not until the tenth night.
I was in the rocking chair when the door to the nursery opened. Being used to the coming and going of others, I didn’t move until I heard his voice.
“Do you have a name for the girl?”
Quickly, I turned and stood. During the time that had passed, I’d healed, and my daughter had grown bigger and stronger.
There Andros stood, one hand on the doorknob with his width and height filling the doorway. The light from the hallway created a silhouette, and yet his dark stare came my way.
“I’m sorry if you wanted a boy.” I recalled the senator’s comment about a boy.
“It makes no difference,” he replied. “I gambled. It wasn’t a loss. You will have more.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. His statement was just that, a command. “Andros, right now, may we concentrate on her?”
“Her name?” he asked again.
I’d given her name days of consideration. I thought of Patrick and female derivations—Patrice, Patricia, or even Trisha. While I loved the idea, saying them made my heart ache. Each time I looked at our daughter, my heart would know she was his. It was too much and too raw to allow my lips to repeat his name.
However, there was one recurring thought that I had when thinking about the time Patrick and I’d been together; it was our meeting. I recalled the young boy who pulled me into his safe place, his hole in the wall. I recalled the police chase and what I’d stolen—a ruby-red apple.
When I was young, my mother had bought me an inexpensive birthstone ring. Being born in January, my birthstone was a garnet—a deep blood-red stone. Thinking of the apple, I recalled the lighter red stone that represented the month of July—ruby.
Her first name was decided. I’d call her Ruby, for both the apple and the month of her birth.
My job wasn’t complete. Ruby needed a middle name. I’d gotten mine from my mother, Alycia. I could give Ruby my name or her grandmother’s, but someone else came to mind, someone I wanted to believe with all my heart was a survivor like my Ruby. Maybe using her name would give my daughter the same will to survive.
While it was true that I’d never know her fate for sure, I wanted to believe my friend Cindy was with her child and healthy. I wanted to think of her with clean clothes, skin, and hair. When I closed my eyes and thought of her, I wanted to believe that her dream came true. Maybe it could if I let her live on in my daughter.
“Ruby Cynthia Miller,” I said.
“Then we will have a birth certificate made.” With that Andros turned to leave.
“Wait, don’t you want to see her?”
He turned back. “I was there when they brought her into the world.”
“You were?”
Taking a deep breath, his chest expanded and contracted. “She is beautiful and resilient like her mother.”
I reached toward him, extending my fingers. “Please.”
Step by step, he crossed the nursery until he stood at my side, both of us peering down at the infant inside the clear bassinet.
“For a short time,” I said, “we can open the top if you’d like to touch her.”
Andros’s body stiffened at my side.
I looked up, not sure what I’d see.
His dark stare met mine. “I told you that I’m not good, nice, or any of those things you want to pretend I am.”
“You saved Ruby and I from a life that wasn’t one. A life we probably wouldn’t have survived.”
“I didn’t save you, Madeline. You have a purpose here. This isn’t…” He took a step back. “I don’t know what to do with an infant.”
My head tilted. “I remember what you said on the plane. You said we’d learn together.”
His dark gaze lingered on her and returned to me. “What do I have to do to you for you to hate me?”