Page 54 of That Baby (That Boy 3)
But, now, all I can think about is losing her.
Of losing the baby.
And I know that I can't agree with her wishes.
If there's a choice to be made, I'll pick her.
I could survive the loss of our child, but I couldn't survive losing her.
I'm pretty sure I couldn't exist without her.
I remember her coming home from one of Lori's baby showers. Telling me how someone was telling them about a stillborn baby. How just retelling the story brought tears to her eyes. How she was clutching her growing baby bump like she was afraid to mention the word in front of our child.
The doctor pulls out the baby, who looks bluish, not red and angry like in the childbirth class photos.
My heart sinks.
And Jadyn's hand goes limp in mine.
I turn to look at her, innately knowing that even though she's under anesthesia she knows that our baby didn't make it.
She's going to be devastated.
A machine beeps.
Then another.
"She's crashing!" a nurse yells.
"She's lost too much blood!"
My world spins out of control as I recognize the underlying panic in their once calm voices.
"Her blood pressure is too low."
"She's coding."
The mood in the room changes in a heartbeat.
Everyone is suddenly very serious.
Grim.
I hear an announcement over the hospital's PA system. Code Blue.
"Code Blue?" I ask.
"Get him out of here!" someone yells.
"NO!" I scream. "I'm not going anywhere! Someone needs to tell me what's happening!"
"Sir, you need to leave." A male nurse grabs my shoulder tightly as tears of frustration and rage spill out of my eyes. "We need you to leave now."
"I'm not leaving," I tell him, still holding her hand, but standing up taller, so he can take in my size.
No fucking way he's making me leave.
But then two people have ahold of me.
I maneuver away from them, bend down next to Jadyn, and yell in her ear. "Stay with me, Princess! Don't you leave me! Don't you dare leave me! I need you!"
"I said get him out of here!" the doctor's voice booms.
They manage to get ahold of the back of my shirt and drag me away, forcing me to let go of her hand. But I still have my hand outstretched toward her. I can't let go.
I can't.
But as I stare at her lifeless body, the fight is knocked out of me.
They drag me to the door, but I don't want to go. An insurmountable amount of pain courses through me. This can't be happening. This cannot be happening.
I cry out again, "Don't you dare leave me, Princess! Don't you dare!"
I'm thrust outside of the operating room and into the hall, where a group of nurses are rushing toward me. I back against the wall to get out of their way, but stop one who looks nice.
"What does Code Blue mean?" I ask as she's opening the door.
"I'm sorry," she says sympathetically, rushing inside and slamming the door on everything important in my world.
I drop to my knees and sob as visions of her dance through my head.
Hair that looks like sunshine blowing in the breeze as she swings upside down from a tree.
That same blonde hair under a veil as she floats down a staircase.
My heart swelling in my chest when she says, 'I'm pregnant.'
The symphony of her laughter when I tell her that she's always loved me.
Her lips on mine as she straddles me and says what I've been longing to hear.
Her hand squeezing mine seconds before she speaks at the funeral.
Taunting me with giggles when she catches her first fish before I do.
The sound of her voice in my ear every night.
Smooth, soft skin that smells like summer pressed against mine.
Screams as I save her from a garden snake.
Freckles covered with mud, a white t-shirt becoming transparent as we wash off the four-wheeler.
Standing cheek to cheek by the swings, her tears making my shirt damp.
A ring sliding on my finger as she recites, 'For as long as I'm lucky enough to have you.'
Gratitude when she sees the angel wings tattoos on Danny and me.
A grin that completely undoes me.
Tossing her into a pool then getting chased and letting her catch me.
Being rewarded with a kiss on the cheek as she tells me, 'You acted like a prince today.'
Our lives are like single threads meticulously woven together--the result an exquisite tapestry of past, present, and future. Bound by unflappable trust, our hearts, our desires, her life woven into mine.
'Don't pull on the thread of your sweater when it's unraveling, Phillip. It will come undone.'
Her sly grin as she says, 'Let's pull it and see if it's true.'
Stitch by stitch.
Row by row.
I'm coming slowly undone until there is nothing left of me.
My princess--my life, my world--is dead.
Danny
Mrs. Mackenzie's voice is ragged and stressed.
I catch certain key words: JJ. Car accident. The name of a hospital.
I'm turning the car around to head to the hospital before I even hang up.
It's like deja vu.
I'm drunk, lying in my dorm, and thinking about her. I can still feel the softness of her sweater and the coolness of her skin against my warm hand. I'm thinking about those mile-long legs in dark jeans that hugged her curves.
I can hear one of the twins tell me how That Asshole Jake--that's what Phillip and I called him whenever Jay wasn't around--brought another girl to the party. He goes on about the girl's massive boobs while I watch Jay struggle to get across the field in the high heels she's wearing. As much as I want to immediately go beat the living shit out of Jake, I find myself jogging after her.
She has a little meltdown. The cutest babbling meltdown. Of course, my horny teen mind focuses on one detail. The thong she says she's wearing. Jay has always been cute. She's always been my friend. And, really, she is the only girl friend I have. Every other girl is just sex.
And, suddenly, I see my chance, that perfect crease in the defense where I know I can run straight through to the end zone.
I shut her up with my lips.
She's surprised when I kiss her but her lips quickly get in sync. Kind of like when I taught her how to kiss and we kissed for hours--but hotter. She's better at it. Her tongue not unsure.
I want to throw her in the backseat of Lisa's car, strip her clothes off, and fuck her.
And if she were any other girl, that's exactly what I'd do.
But this is Jay. She deserves better.
I stop kissing her. I have to, or I'll go against my better judgment.
She freaks out. Worries she's become a bad kisser.
And from somewhere in my memory comes the perfect line straight from her own smart-ass lips.
"Well, I can't be sure," I laugh. "The line judge didn't have a clear view, the side judge over there was watching the cheerleaders, and since there's no instant replay available," I shrug my shoulders and tilt my head, "I'm just gonna have to call a do over."
"You're a cheater," she says.
"Better than being a liar," I fire back. But it's the sexy way she looks at me that causes my mouth to find hers again.
I don't want to stop kissing her.
But I have to.
Or I'm going to do something I'll regret. Because right now my dick is voting for the backseat.
"Uh, let's go get a beer, Jay."
She doesn't look convinced and gives me a pout. It's that face--that look--that has always stopped both Phillip and I dead in our tracks.
It's not her sassiness. Or her intelligence. Those things we'll fight her tooth and nail on, but when she whips out the pout, she always wins.
When I first moved to
the neighborhood in sixth grade, I made her cry. Phillip told me if I ever made her cry again, he'd punch me until I cried. He had a fierceness about him, to this day, I've never doubted that he would.
It's that look--those words echoing in my head--that makes me grab her hand and drag her back to the party.
Phillip gives me a similar fierce look when I slide my hands around her waist.
And when she leaves to go to the bathroom with Lisa, he raises his chin and almost imperceptibly shakes his head. It's the same thing he does on the football field. It means he's not open, so don't throw him the ball.
It's a warning.
And, right now, he's clearly warning me not to mess with her.
I chug some of the Warren twins' whiskey and decide she needs my attention to cheer her up.
I tell myself I'm doing it for her.
That I'm kissing those soft lips just to make her feel better.
I know at some point the shit's going to hit the fan. Either Phillip and I will come to blows, or we'll team up on Jake.
Since I don't want to have it out with my best friend, I decide to push Jake's buttons and come up with the idea of making him jealous.
Her eyes sparkle like they always do when she knows we're going to do something exciting--something that will most likely get us into trouble.
