fucking thing in this lifetime is non-negotiable. As if my babies would ever survive long enough to spill crackers all over the fucking floor. As if keeping my surroundings ‘pristine’ at all times ever fucking mattered.
I suddenly stop scrolling through my song list. I’m staring at the perfect song—the song that says precisely what needs to be said. “I’ll Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie.
My fingers are shaking as I press play and bring the phone up to my ear.
The instant the singer begins, I close my eyes and lean back in my chair.
This song says what I feel. This song says it for me with every word and note and strum of the acoustic guitar. This song is The Truth.
Because, God help me, when Sarah goes into the Dark like I know she’s about to do—if she hasn’t already—when she leaps into the abyss without me and never comes back to me, the same way everyone always does—because everything I touch turns to blood—when Sarah goes into the dark, then I’m gonna fucking follow her there. No matter what. End of fucking story.
Chapter 11
Jonas
“Mr. Faraday?”
I stand and so does Josh. This is it. They’re going to tell me Sarah’s dead. My knees feel weak. I hold onto Josh’s shoulder and he grabs my arm.
“Your babies have been delivered—they’re being rushed to the NICU.”
“Are they okay?” Josh asks. He squeezes my arm.
I can’t breathe.
“They’re alive and headed to the NICU. That’s all I know. With this much blood loss by the mother, they’re likely anemic and in shock—and their lungs will probably need some form of assistance. Doctors in the NICU will assess them and administer whatever care is required—and once they’re stabilized, the NICU doctors will tell you more about their condition.”
A thousand emotions are slamming into me at once. I can’t speak.
“And Sarah?” Josh asks, saying the exact question I’d ask if I could. Josh squeezes my arm again, this time so tightly, he’s gonna leave a bruise.
My heart is banging wildly inside my chest. I close my eyes, anticipating whatever’s about to come out of the nurse’s mouth. My legs feel rubbery. My head is swirling.
“She’s still in surgery,” the nurse says. “There’s no way to know yet.”
“But she’s still...?” Josh begins.
“Yes. She’s in surgery.”
I open my eyes and exhale.
“The doctors are working hard to stop the bleeding—the blood loss has to be contained. The situation is very dangerous—very serious—but the doctors are doing everything they can.”
Josh puts his arm around my shoulders. “She’s gonna be fine,” he mutters.
“Mr. Faraday, your wife had a placental abruption. And now she’s developed a condition called DIC. This means she’s bled so much, she’s lost the ability to clot her own blood. This is fairly common with abruptions and it’s a very serious situation. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
“But she’s gonna be okay,” Josh declares. It’s a statement, not a question.
“We’ll keep you apprised as the situation develops.”
“But at the end of the day, she’ll be fine, right?” Josh coaches, his voice strained.
I sit down in the chair behind me and put my hands over my face.
“They’re doing everything they can,” the nurse repeats, unwilling to follow Josh’s lead. “As soon as the doctors have things stabilized, one of them will come out to give you a full update.”
Josh sits next to me and puts his arm around me. I lean into him, my hands over my face. “She’s gonna be fine,” he mutters, squeezing my shoulder.
“Your wife will be in surgery for several more hours,” the nurse says. “Would you like me to take you to the NICU so you can meet your babies? I’ve received the go-ahead from the NICU for you to come on down.”
“Yeah,” Josh says, leaping up from his chair. “Of course.”
I drop my hands away from my face and look up at the nurse. She’s looking at me with genuine sympathy. I look at Josh blankly. I don’t know if I can move. I don’t know if I can function enough to do anything but sit here. I need to stay here, just in case Sarah needs me.
“Come on, Jonas,” Josh says. “You’re a father. Meet your babies.”
I know what I’m supposed to say right now. I know what the right answer is—the normal answer. But the truth is I don’t care about anything or anyone except Sarah right now, even my babies.
Josh’s phone buzzes in his pocket. “Hang on.” He pulls out his phone and looks at