People are everywhere, rushing around, and I can’t focus on anything. It’s as though I’ve been dreaming and have no idea how long I’ve been asleep.
I close my eyes again, trying to get my bearings. I know I’m in a hospital. There’s a constant beeping of machines while nurses rush around me, and wires pulling at my arms. Not to mention, it smells like a hospital. A bit of antiseptic cleaner and rubber.
“Sydney?” A deep male voice calls.
I look to him and he smiles softly. “Yes.”
The doctor lifts a light and shines it in my eyes while asking me a question. “Do you know where you are?”
“The hospital,” I croak. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed knives. It’s raw and scratchy and so dry.
“That’s right.” He continues to check me over, moving my body, squeezing my hands. “Can you squeeze back.”
I do, and he nods approvingly. “Good. Do you remember me?”
Do I? I think I do. I know he’s a doctor, and he looks familiar, but I am so tired and groggy. It’s as though I’m in a fog. I can see things, but nothing is clear. Everything feels distant and hazy. “I just ... I can’t remember.”
He nods. “That’s normal.”
Normal? Normal for what? I don’t know what’s happening to me or my baby.
The baby.
Oh God.
My hand flies to my stomach as I scramble to remember what happened.
“The baby is fine.” The doctor puts his hand on mine. “We’ve been monitoring him while you’ve been in a coma.”
I’ve been in a coma?
“What? How long? My sister?” I barely get the words past my lips because my throat screams out in pain again.
I try to recall something about what happened. I remember going in for the surgery, and that’s it. I don’t … understand what’s happening. I don’t feel like time has passed, but then again, I have no idea what day it is.
The nurse brings me a cup of ice chips. “Take it slow,” she instructs.
“I’m Doctor Voigt, and I was your surgeon. I need you to stay calm so we keep your heart rate steady for the baby. Do you remember having the surgery?”
I nod. And now that I’ve heard his name, it rings a bell. I take an ice chip into my mouth and breathe through my nose. I won’t do anything to harm the baby.
“Good. The surgery went well, the tumor is gone and the baby is healthy, but you’ve been unconscious for a week now. We’re not sure why, but we’re very happy you’re awake now. Your family is outside, they’ve been here the entire time. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but I’d like to bring them in here to see you, if that’s okay?”
The desire to see someone familiar is too great to pass up. “Please.”
Dr. Voigt smiles and then heads out of the room. When the glass door slides open again, my mother walks in with tears streaming down her face.
“Oh, Sydney!” She moves quickly to my side, taking my face in her hands. “I’ve been so scared. We all have.” Her hands fall, she looks back and then I see him.
Declan stands in the doorway, his eyes swollen, hair a mess, and God knows how long it’s been since he’s shaved.
He looks beaten.
He looks beautiful.
He looks absolutely terrified.
I turn back to my mother, needing not to look at him. Pieces of my memory flare up when I remember that Declan wasn’t here earlier. He was in New York. He left me after I told him everything and begged him to love me.
It doesn’t matter that he’s clearly shaken now. It’s too little too late.
“The baby, he’s fine, right?”
She smiles through her tears. “Yes, baby, you and the baby are just fine. Everything is okay now, and the surgery went well. It’s been … trying, to say the least, but you’re awake and … oh, it’s so good to see you.”
I can hear the relief in her voice, and I hate that she was so worried. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Declan shifts, and as much as I try to focus on my mother, it’s impossible not to notice him. My mom turns to Declan and then back to me before taking a step back. “I’m going to call Sierra and Ellie. I think you two need a moment.”
I don’t take my eyes away from him as he steps into the room. The glass closes behind him, and the fog I was under before is back, only it’s everything else but him that’s out of focus.
Declan is here. I don’t know why or what he hopes for, but he’s here and he looks as though he’s been through war.
His eyes are on mine as he moves toward me, hesitation flowing thickly between us.
“Say something,” his voice rasps.
“Why are you here?”
His eyes close for a beat, and then he is at my side. “Because I love you. I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman, and I was coming to you that day. I went to the doctor’s office after everything that could’ve gone wrong did. I missed the appointment, and I was … God, I was chasing you. Just like you asked. I’ve been here, and I’m not leaving you again, Sydney.”
All the words I’ve longed to hear fall from his lips, but I can’t think. I am so lost and confused. I rest my hand on my stomach and lean my head back. Right now, I have to digest the fact that I’ve been in a coma. “Tell me about the last week.”
When I open my eyes, I see the hurt painting his features, but he shields himself quickly. “You didn’t wake up after the surgery. They couldn’t figure out why, so we just sat here, waiting and hoping, but you didn’t respond. I talked to you for hours. We all did. Sierra, your mother, Ellie, and Connor … we were always here.”
As much as I thought I wanted to hear this, I don’t. I want to know why he wasn’t there before. I need to know what was so much more important than the ultrasound. And yet, right now, he is here.
“Declan, I can’t …”
My words drift away as my mother pulls the door open, but Declan doesn’t turn to acknowledge her. He just moves closer and sits on the edge of the bed.
“I was coming for you, Syd. I’ve been here, and we have to figure this out.” He finally looks to my mother and then back to me. “I’m going to make some calls and change my clothes, but I’ll be back.”
I nod, not really having the strength to do more. Declan leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead, but I hold my breath. It’s intimate and sweet. My head is a jumbled mess. So much has happened and I’m exhausted.
My mother touches his arm as he leaves before coming to my side.
“It’s good to see your eyes.” Her voice is soft, but I can hear the fear under it.
“Days?”
She nods. “It’s been days since that man has left your side. He’s been a wreck, but we haven’t been able to get him to take a break.”
That wasn’t what I was asking, but the information is new. “You mean he hasn’t left?”
Mom smiles softly and then sits in the chair beside the bed. “He’s been here all day and all night. Every day that you were in the coma. He would leave to shower, usually after Connor browbeat him into doing it, and maybe to grab some food, but otherwise, Declan has been at your side every moment.”
I lick my lips and let that information settle around me. “Why?”
“Because the man is in love with you,” Mom says with a laugh. “He’s been torn up about how it all happened. He’s talked to you, begged for your forgiveness, and said a lot about his feelings while you slept.”
A lot of good it does me since I don’t remember anything. “Seven days pales in comparison to the years that I’ve had to cope with being without him.”
“Maybe so, but those years of coping did nothing to stop you from leaving the farm you love, your friends, and the life you’ve built. No, my sweet girl, what did that is the man out in the hallway.”
I see his silhouette through the frosted glass, pacing back and forth, never straying far enough for me to lose sight of his profile. I would know him even in the darkness. Hell, maybe even blind.
“He lets me down. He doesn’t choose me, ever. He’s let me go, pushed me away, and abandoned me.”
She seems to consider that. “Maybe that’s true, but it’s also a bit unfair. I know true abandonment. If Declan didn’t love you, he would’ve left. He wouldn’t have spent the last week as a fixture at your bedside.”
“Obligation and duty are important to him. I’m carrying his son, so for all we know, that’s what he cared about.”
She laughs once. “You’re a fool and a liar if you believe that. I’ve seen a man stay out of obligation, Sydney, and that wasn’t what Declan did. He was devastated. Not about the baby, in fact, he and Sierra had it out about the baby and you. Declan would’ve let the entire world burn down and allow everything else to perish if it meant saving you. You don’t have to forgive him yet, but at least listen to what he says before you make a decision you’ll regret.”
I let that sink in and worry my bottom lip. I still don’t believe it completely. However, even after sleeping for what seems like forever, I’m too exhausted to think about Declan and his reasons for doing what he did.
If he loves me, he needs to do a lot more than sit at my bedside for seven days.
“Mom,” I say while my eyes start to feel heavy. “I’m sleepy.”
She rubs my cheeks. “Rest, my sweet girl, I’m right here.”
I allow my lids to fall, and as exhausted as I am, I don’t fall asleep. I drift in a muddled, dreamlike haze that is on the edge of unconsciousness. There’s a shuffle in the background, tempting me to open my eyes, but I can’t focus enough on it.
Just as darkness starts to overtake me, on the very edges of consciousness, I sense him. I feel his warmth, his scent of musk and spice meets my nose, and then the deep timbre of his voice fills my ear. “Thank you, Mom. I couldn’t have survived losing her.”
It’s been four days of resting, trying to function, and being around Declan. He will not leave. He won’t argue with me or go away, he’s just always here. Each time the doctor encourages me to do something to regain my strength, there he is … pushing me to do it.
I want to hurl something at his head.
“You should go home, you have a job,” I say as I lower myself into the chair, which is part of my daily to-do list.
Sitting.
Not walking or trying to do anything of great effort, but moving from the bed to this damn chair for more than forty minutes.
What does one do when forced to sit in a chair? Talk to the man who won’t go away.
“I’m perfectly fine here.”
“Yes, you’ve said this, but you should go.”
Declan shrugs. “I’m good.”
I groan and let my head fall back. “Our son is going to have your stubbornness, and I’m going to want to strangle myself.”
“Yes, because you’re the most accommodating person ever.”
“You’re the one who won’t leave.”
“Because I love you, and I’m not going until we figure our shit out.”
He said that yesterday, and my response was to force myself to go to sleep to avoid this exact topic. I don’t want to have it out. I want to go home and ignore him.
However, I know that isn’t going to happen.
It’s also the coward’s way out, and I’m not a coward.
“You made your choice.”
“I told you what happened,” he replies. “I know you don’t forgive me, and honestly, you shouldn’t, but I’m going to make it up to you.”
I breathe heavily and try to slow my racing heart. He has no idea how much I want this to all be true. But I think his promise is coming from a place of fear, and once I’m out of the hospital, he will take it all back and leave again.
“You don’t have to do this.” My voice is soft and strained.
“Do what?”
I open my eyes and let him see the truth there. “You don’t have to stay here out of obligation.”
He flinches and moves closer, eyes never leaving mine. “Is that what you think? That I’m here because I feel obligated to be?” His voice is low. “Because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”
My pulse is rapid because he’s close enough for me to smell his cologne. “I don’t know what the truth is.”
“Are you ready to have this discussion? Because I am trying not to push you and let you recover without adding to your stress.”
I wish that were possible, but my stress levels aren’t going down without this discussion. If anything, I can’t seem to think about anything else. Why is he here? What does he want? When will he leave? And how the hell will I endure all of this?
But those answers can’t come from me.
“I think we have to.”
Declan crouches so his face is right in front of mine. “I was coming for you, Sydney. I was late, I know I was, and I’m so, so sorry, but I’m here now.”
“For how long, Dec?”
“Forever.”
I sit, staring at him, waiting for him to laugh or smile or something, but he doesn’t.
“Forever?” I ask. Maybe I heard him wrong. Maybe there is some weird side effect from the coma that is making me hear things that aren’t real.
“I’m not leaving. I’m not going back to New York City, not unless you’re with me, and if I have to stay in Sugarloaf or wherever you go, I’ll do that. You see, I lived eight years without you in my life. I existed by thinking that you were happy, better off without me, and I can’t exist that way anymore.”
“You can’t?”
“No.” His hand lifts and his palm settles on my cheek. “No, I can’t.”
I try to force myself to swallow and then pull in a deep breath. “You say this now, but why?”
“Do you know why I didn’t make it to the appointment? What it was that I had to do in the city?”
I shake my head.
“Well, there was this thing I was buying, and it became really difficult out of nowhere. I had time—or, I thought I did, but the seller changed their mind.”
Anger starts to build, and I can’t hold it back. He missed the appointment, not because of something important or an emergency. No, it was because he was buying something he wanted. I don’t know why he thought this wasn’t going to be no big deal.
“So, you left me and missed the appointment to see our son over something you were buying?”
“Well, the buyer made an unrealistic demand that I needed to move the date up by a month.”
I roll my eyes. “And this is supposed to make me feel, what? Bad for you?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Syd.”
I cross my arms over my chest and fight back the urge to flip him off. “Well, then why don’t you tell me what I should ask.”
He grins. “What was I buying?”
Because this conversation is exhausting and I’m not getting anywhere, I play his game. “Fine. What were you buying?”
“Your farm.”