“Take care of yourself, kid,” Maxim says. “And next time you call, give me some good news.”
“I’m trying, old man.”
We say our goodbyes and disconnect the line. I drink my coffee in silence, mulling over the uncertainties of the future. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Kat, but I know that the doctors told me I’m going to be a father again, if Kat can sustain the pregnancy.
In any other circumstances, I’d be over the fucking moon with pride and excitement. This time was supposed to be different. We were supposed to do it together. But instead, the reality is I might be doing alone, if it ends up happening at all. And nothing about that scenario is ever going to be okay.
23
Kat
I’m floating. That’s the first sensation I register. It’s bright. There’s light all around me but not from any source that I can see. Just bright white light.
Am I dead? I don’t feel my body. I just feel myself float as if I’m supported on a puff of air.
Did I die?
Panic washes over me, and the sensation passes.
Josh.
If I’m dead, I can’t be there for Josh. What if Lev’s dead too? What if he ends up in foster care, and what if a couple like the Georges get him? What if...
“Shh, baby.”
I’m instantly calmed by the voice. The noise I’d barely registered levels out in the background.
I look around. I’m floating again.
A glimpse of red hair catches my eye. It’s fleeting. There, then gone, then back.
She’s here. And even though her back is to me, I know it’s her. I know. She’s holding something. Cradling it. I can tell from the way she’s standing.
I sit up. It takes some effort, and when I look down at myself, my hands are bruised and deathly white, and there are wires everywhere.
I shake my head, looking up at her again.
“Mom?”
She turns like she just realized I was there, and she smiles, and she’s so beautiful that I feel my eyes fill up with tears. She’s just like I remember from when I was little. When she’d hold me as I fell asleep and I’d hold on to her hair like Josh does to mine.
“I miss you, Mom.”
“My baby girl all grown up.” I hear the words even though her lips don’t move.
“Am I dead?” I ask. The peaceful feeling fades again, panic filling me instead.
She tilts her head to the side and looks sad for a moment, but then she smiles again. A reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her,” she says.
As soon as her words are out, I feel a sharp pain in my stomach. The floating sensation is gone, replaced by sound, too much sound. Machines and people and pain. Oh my god, the pain.
“She’s bleeding,” a woman calls out, and I hear the sudden frantic activity around me.
“Kat? Fuck. Get the fuck off me!”
Lev.
More noise. People are yelling, and Lev is yelling too.
I open my eyes, blink at the fluorescent lights, at all the activity around me, the faces of strangers, pain in my back and stomach, warmth between my legs.
“I’m here, Kat! I’m here!”
It hurts. It hurts so much.
Something pierces my arm, and the pain begins to lessen.
“Kat?”
I can follow his voice now, and I see him. I see him beyond all those faces, and he looks wrecked. Like he hasn’t slept in days. Like he’s been through hell.
And I remember.
“Vitals are good again.”
“Sir, we need you to step out. Someone get him out of the room please. Sir, we can’t help her if you’re in the way.”
“I’m here, Kat,” he says again.
I’m alive. He’s alive. Josh? Is Josh alive?
“Josh?” I croak out.
I think I see him smile. “Josh is fine. He’s waiting for his mommy.”
That’s good.
That’s okay.
My eyes close. The world begins to fade again, and I let it, but this time, it’s not bright but dark, and as my consciousness begins to fade, I try to remember what happened.
I went up to our room to get Josh’s bathing suit, and Vasily was there waiting for me. He took me to that warehouse. He said terrible things about my mother. He hurt me. And he punched me in my belly.
In case things go south, he’d said. And I understand what he meant.
I was pregnant.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”
Her.
A little girl. She’s with my mom now, and Josh is safe, and I can sleep. I don’t have to worry. I can just sleep.
24
Lev
“Welcome back.” I squeeze Kat’s hand.
She tries to speak, her throat muscles working, but the nurse shakes her head. “Give it some time, honey. You’ve been out for a while. We’re going to get you some water, and then the doctor wants to check you over.”
Her eyes move to mine, and I lean down to kiss her forehead, a silent promise that everything’s going to be okay. Right now, the room is full of nurses and technicians. There’s so much I want to say. There’s so much I want to know. But I have to be patient.
Kat blinks and moves her gaze around the room as the rest of her body slowly starts to wake. She’s weak, cold, and terrified. I can see that in her eyes. But I want her to know that I’m here.
“Here’s your water.” The nurse returns. “We’re going to sit you up. Sip it very slowly, okay?”
Kat blinks in response, and they adjust her bed, instructing her on what they want her to do as they help her with the water. She’s so small and fragile; it wrecks my heart to see her this way. Almost childlike in her demeanor and her expressions. This isn’t the Kat I’m used to, and I’m still terrified the worst is yet to come.
Maybe she won’t remember me. Maybe she won’t even be able to speak. Maybe she won’t be Kat at all. The doctors tried to prepare me for every scenario, and they said the only way to tell is time. But I’m anxious about the exam. I want to see for myself. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care if she doesn’t remember me, or if she doesn’t know how to speak. We’ll find a way to get through it just like we did with everything else.
“Welcome back, Katerina.” The doctor enters with a clipboard in hand, her eyes bright and positive as she looks over Kat. “I’m Dr. Sampson, and I’ll be doing your examination today.”
Kat nods. It’s stiff, but it’s there. The smallest of movements, but it gives me hope. So much fucking hope. If she’s nodding, that means she comprehends, right? I look at the doctor, but she has a good poker face. She doesn’t even blink as she wheels her chair over next to Kat’s bed.
“Just give me a second to look over your vitals,” she murmurs and then hands the clipboard off to one of the nurses. “Okay, here we go. We’re going to run through a series of tests, Katerina. Right now, it might be difficult for you to speak, so I don’t want you to worry about that. If you understand, I want you to blink twice for yes. Can you do that?”