Page 61 of It Must Be Fate

When my eyes open again, I’m back where I expected to be. I see white walls and a TV in the corner, the hallmarks of any good hospital room. There’s the same soreness in my stomach except when I look down, I see my bump.

And I see Phoenix bent over my body, his head resting on my thigh, his hand clutching mine in a death grip as he sleeps. He looks tortured, his expression tormented.

I’mback.

Gently, I reach for him with my free hand and run my nails through his buzzed hair like I always do.

Except the second I touch him, he jolts awake.

Troubled, agonized eyes immediately find mine. Shock seems to freeze him in place, his voice turning disbelieving.

“Six?”

“Hi, baby,” I murmur, my voice hoarse from lack of use.

The sound that rips from deep in Phoenix’s chest is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It’s reminiscent of the sound an animal makes when it’s in excruciating pain.

He rises to his feet and clutches my face in his hands.

“Wild girl,” he whispers, his voice cracking. I grip his forearms, lending him support. He’s shaking beneath my palms. “Six…You came back to me.”

Try as he might, he can’t seem to get any words out. Tears shine in his eyes as he pushes the hair from my face, as he stares at me like he can’t quite believe I’m awake.

“I’m okay, Nix. I’m okay.”

He shakes his head, the movement making tears fall down his cheeks.

“You don’t understand…,” he whimpers. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

“You won’t,” I vow, squeezing his arms. “I’m right here. I’m okay, I promise I’m okay.”

“You’re my whole world, Six. My entire world. You’re it for me. Don’t ever try dying again. You can’t ever do that to me again. I went mad with grief for those hours I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’tapologize. I’m the one who’s sorry,” he replies vehemently. “We’re not doing this again. If you want any more children, we’ll adopt, but I’m not getting you pregnant again.”

His tone makes it clear that he’s not leaving this one up to discussion. The decision has been made and it’s done.

That’s okay with me. I’m not in a rush to put myself through this terrifying ordeal again, plus I’m an only child myself.

If, down the road, we want another child, I’m certainly open to adopting.

But that’s a topic for a later day.

For now, we have a brand new baby to focus on.

“How is our daughter?” I ask. My gaze roams around the room until it lands on a crib just off to the side of the foot of my bed. Inside, there’s a small bundle that sleeps quietly.

Phoenix stiffens. He doesn’t look over at her.

I know my husband, I know him like I know every inch of myself. And I know what his reaction means.

“Phoenix. You’ve held our daughter, right?”

His jaw sets, his shoulders turning rigid. I understand that what he just lived through was traumatic, but he needs to prioritize the baby over me right now.

Gently, I move my hand to cover his where it’s still on my cheek. “Baby,” I say. “Go get our daughter. That’s our little girl.”

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