I have no idea what she’s talking about, and honestly, I don’t care to decode it. I just want to see Amelia.
When the nurse stops outside a door, she lifts a finger to her lips. “Amelia has one of the few single rooms on the floor—thanks to her grandmother, of course. Still, try to keep it quiet as she needs all the rest she can get. I can bring you an extra pillow and blanket if you’d like.”
Eager to get inside the room, I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
She nods, and I’m sure she’s not surprised. I’m practically bouncing on my toes.
“If you need anything,” she says, “just come to the desk. Have a good night. And congratulations.”
My brow furrows at her words. What the hell? I shrug it off and slowly open the door so I can slip inside the room. Then I close it shut. My ass hits the wood as I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m finally here. Finally with her.
But this isn’t the reunion I expected.
She’s lying there, not moving, nothing but the sound of the television’s muffled volume. The lights are low, and even though I don’t want to disturb her, I have to touch her. I have to feel her. I have to know she’s okay. Because all of this? It’s still a mystery to me and I have no idea what I’m facing.
What we’re facing.
I tiptoe across the room, cursing when I take hold of the chair and it scrapes noisily against the linoleum floor. Just as I’m settling into the chair next to her bedside, Amelia murmurs something in her sleep. She looks so tiny, nearly swallowed up in the hospital bed, with crisp, white blankets tucked all around her. I reach underneath the material, and once I find her hand, I hold it in both of mine, lowering my head to the bed, willing her to be okay. Hell, I don’t even know what’s wrong.
“Knox?” The surprise in her sleepy voice is nearly drowned out by a yawn. Her usually vibrant eyes are dull, exhaustion evident in them. I think she’s happy to see me until she opens her mouth again. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Okay, so I wasn’t expecting her to welcome me with arms wide open, but I didn’t think she’d be upset to see me.
“Amelia—”
She takes her hand from mine and pushes herself up, resting back against fluffed-up pillows. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, darting her gaze to the door, then back to me.
“If I shouldn’t be here, then why would you put my name on the list? Why tell the hospital I could visit you anytime, day or night?” I retort, not even trying to mask my annoyance.
“Because. It was wishful thinking. I didn’t actually expect you to show up.”
Ouch.
“Yeah,” I say, “considering you never told me you were in the hospital in the first place, I can see why you wouldn’t expect me here. Good thing I came to town when I did.”
She sighs, running dainty fingers through messy hair. “Knox…” She trails off, her voice trembling.
When I try to take her hand, she moves it away. But I’m undeterred. I cup her chin and coax her gaze towards me.
“What is it?” I ask her. “What’s wrong? Why are you here? How long have you been here? Just tell me what you need, Amelia. I’ll do anything.” The words are rushed. Desperate. I need to know what the hell is going on.
“I’m fine. We don’t need anything from you.” She clamps her mouth shut, her eyes darting away from mine.
If I wasn’t so damn concerned about her condition, I’d take her over my knee until she gives me the truth. Eight excruciating months with an Amelia-shaped hole in my heart and this is all I get from her. A vague answer and not a hint of interest that I’m here. I don’t buy it. If I have to beg the truth out of her, I’ll go down on my knees.
“Bullshit, Amelia. I’ve missed you every goddamn second since I left this place. I dreamt of you night after fucking night only to wake up pissed at the world that you weren’t next to me. You can’t sit there and tell me you didn’t feel the same. That you don’t still feel the same.”
Sorrow fills her eyes. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t miss you. Of course I did. But things have changed, Knox. And I’m telling you right now: We don’t need anything from you.”
I missed it before, but when she repeats her words, I’m hung up on one.
We?
Before I can ask her what she means, there’s a knock on the door. I ignore it, not giving a damn who’s there.
My eyes don’t leave Amelia, even though she’s staring off behind me.
As the door creaks open, all the blood drains from Amelia’s already pale face. The shocking pallor of her skin unnerves me, and when I see who’s entered, it’s my turn to be utterly rocked to my core.
I can sense idea how much my world is about to change. How much it’s already changed in the past twenty-four hours and I’ve been completely clueless to it—until the same pretty nurse who led me to Amelia’s room walks in with a tiny bundle cocooned in a blanket and cradled in her arms.
Until a piercing wail comes from her arms.
Until little arms lift into the air like he’s already fighting the Great Ali in his sleep.
Until she smiles at Amelia, who’s holding her arms out.
I push my chair back and stand, wanting to both run from the room and haul Amelia into my fucking arms. Because as the realization hits me, only one thing crosses my mind
This.
Is.
Mine.
No.
She is mine.
No. Something in my brain tells me even that’s wrong.
They.
They are mine.
“Someone’s hungry and missing his mommy,” the nurse coos.
His. Mommy.
Amelia.
His mommy.
Amelia.
His.
Mommy.
Congratulations. The nurse’s words echo in my mind.
Congratulations.
Sleepless nights.
The first one’s the hardest.
They’re mine.
He’s mine.
I have a fucking son.
I’m a fucking dad.
I’m rocked to my core.
He’s my son.
“Knox.”
Amelia’s soft voice brings me back to Earth. My heart hammers as I slowly look from the floor to her. The baby’s nestled against her chest, little lips, the tiniest I’ve ever seen, suckling at her breast.
I stumble and fall back into the chair.
A throat clears. The nurse watches me with curious eyes, a tiny smile playing at her lips. When she flicks her gaze to Amelia, she takes her cue at Amelia’s nod.
“Thank you, Jenny,” Amelia says. “We’ll be fine.”
“Of course. Whenever little Branson here is ready to go back to the nursery, just ring the button.”
And just like that, the sudden euphoria I’m feeling comes crashing down.
It’s like I was playing my favorite record only to have it scratch and suddenly stop right at the glorified drum solo.
The door shuts and silence hangs in the air between us. Amelia watches me. I watch the baby.
My son.
Branson.
All the joy of having a son is overshadowed for the briefest of moments. I’m a dick, but with the shock of both his…existence and then his name, I can’t help myself.
“This wasn’t the way it supposed to happen. This wasn’t what I wanted.” I’m mumbling more to myself, but with Amelia’s gasp, I know she heard. And that makes me wince.