Part 26 (1/2)
I nod. ”And other things.”
She sits back down. ”You've gotta stay with me, all right?”
”I will.”
I feel her stare on me, and think about how if Maverick and I switched places, Finley would have been Mav's first call too. Maybe even his only call.
”Alieya Tavare?”
I stand up when Dr. Santos says my name. ”Yes?”
”Your husband is stable,” she says. ”Due to excessive damage to his spleen, it was irreparable and had to be removed. We will continue to monitor his blood pressure every half an hour.”
”Will he stay stable now?”
”There's no way we can know for certain.”
”Look, I just need to know if he's going to be okay. You said twenty-four hours and that's almost half gone. You have to know something, right?”
Dr. Santos nods. ”If he wakes in the next several hours, that's the best sign we can hope for. If not, we'll run another CT scan and see what's going on and go from there. Sometimes it takes the body a while to sort itself out.”
She waits for me to respond, but I have nothing else to say.
”He's in his room now, so you may go back inside. I'll be back this evening to check on his progress.” She bobs her head once to me.
Finley hooks her arm with mine. ”Come on. Maverick misses you.”
I go with her down the hall with no concrete answers, and more what ifs roll through my mind. But they all come down to one- What if he never wakes up?
Chapter 40.
Chicago, Illinois Six months ago I'm still awake when I hear the door open. It's after midnight, and I don't know if he'll have pizza or not, because I can't remember if he let me know he'd be late. I've carried the pregnancy test around with me all evening, thinking it will change any minute. So far the little pink plus sign has remained. An hour ago, I put it on Maverick's nightstand and haven't looked since.
Mav and I talked about starting a family, of course, but we both decided it would be better if we waited until I finished school and he was settled enough at the firm to have regular work hours. Neither of those things has happened. What is he going to say?
I haven't let the news sink in myself yet. Finley has. She freaked out and sang ”I told you so” over the phone. After calling dibs on being the baby's G.o.dmother, she also demand-suggested the baby be named Finn-something.
”Like Finland or Garrison Finn for a boy. Straight-up Finley if it's a girl,” she said.
Me, I'm just thinking about how I'm going to make it through the semester feeling this nauseous. I can't miss any more of my cla.s.ses.
And then there's the doctor appointments, labor instruction, the nursery, baby stuff to buy, the actual labor, the birth- I'm hyperventilating again.
I close my eyes and focus on taking deep, calming breaths. The last thing I want is for Maverick to walk in and see me like this. He'll freak out before I get the chance to tell him the news.
Morocco purrs on my lap, soothing me. His wet nose nudges my arm, and I pet him. He's as subtle as Finley.
Maverick pushes our bedroom door open and smiles when he sees I'm awake. ”I told you not to wait up for me. How are you feeling?”
Oh, yeah.
”Better,” I say, and it's true. After I threw up thirty minutes ago, the nausea seems to have pa.s.sed for now.
Maverick pulls his s.h.i.+rt over his head on his way toward me. On his side of the bed now, he takes off his pants, not noticing the gift I laid on the nightstand. Wearing only his underwear, he slides in under the blankets.
”Come here,” he says, holding an arm out to me.
I snuggle in close. The warmth of his skin collides with mine, and it's exactly what I need for my hormones to ignite. I feel a tear burn in my eye before I allow it to fall. How is a baby going to fit into our crazy lives? We aren't prepared for this.
I'm not prepared for this.
I suck in a breath louder than I intended, which alerts Maverick. He brushes hair away from my face.
”Hey, what's wrong?” he asks.
”When do you think we'll be ready to start a family?”
”Well, um. We're a family now, you and me. Morocco.”
”Right.” I swallow. ”I mean, when do you see us having kids?”
”In a few years, I guess, once I'm settled and you've finished grad school. I'd like us to have a house and a yard and, h.e.l.l, maybe even throw in a minivan.” He chuckles.
I snicker too. Me in a minivan. Silly.
”You know, we'll find something in the suburbs, in a good school district. One of those cool outdoor kitchens that overlook the swimming pool, and inside we'll have all the fancy gourmet appliances to heat up all the takeout we order.”
”This isn't the house next door to your parents, is it?”
”Far away. Way outside the city of Chicago.”
”Hmm. So is there also a hidden man cave in said house?” I tease.
”f.u.c.k yeah. A hundred and twenty inch television, a fully stocked bar, leather sofas, framed autographed jerseys, every gaming system available, and a pool table. Now that I think about it, we might not be able to afford takeout. You're going to have to cook.”
”Cereal sound good?”
”Baby, as long as you serve it in one of those super short maid outfits, I'll eat whatever you make.”
”How about you eat whatever I make, and I wear yoga pants and a T-s.h.i.+rt.”
”Ah, that sounds just as s.e.xy as the maid outfit.”