Page 73 of Second Draft

“She’s still hemorrhaging. They’re trying to stop the bleeding.”

I can hear the unsaid words, the seriousness of the situation.

“I thought they stopped it. You said she was going to be all right.”

“She was stable, but like I said, there were complications in post-op.”

Scrubbing my hands over my face, I feel the floor is giving out on me.

“Mr. Bennett. If there are any other family members that need to be called, I suggest you call them now.”

Because they’re not sure if she’s going to make it.

I sit down heavily.

Agony slices my chest, and I crumple forward with my face in my hands, because I realize that I may still lose her.

Chapter 27

Carter

Two hours turns into four, then six. No one seems to want to give me any answers.

I called Kira, and she came immediately, but she’s just as freaked out as I am, and her constant tears are only stressing me out.

And I have no idea where Travis went. For all I know the cops took him to the station to question him about what happened, maybe they arrested him, or maybe he just took off again.

The nurses changed shifts a couple of hours ago, and I don’t know the new one that comes into the room to check on the baby. The baby – he still doesn’t have a name.

My throat tightens at the thought of Layla never getting to see him, never having the chance to hold him.

I meant what I promised. He’s mine. No matter what happens to her, I’ll raise him as my own, and love him the same. Nothing will change that. But even the possibility of doing it alone makes my heart pound painfully in my chest.

Kira paces the room, dark circles under her swollen eyes. “Why isn’t anyone coming to tell us what’s going on?”

I shift the baby in my arms when he starts to stir. He’s going to be hungry again soon.

There’s a knock on the door, and both Kira and I jump.

Max, Kira’s boyfriend pops his head in, then opens the door, carrying a tray of coffees and a brown paper bag. “I thought you could use some caffeine and food.”

I know he’s trying to be helpful, but I can’t help resent the casual tone in his voice.

Layla is somewhere in the damn hospital fighting for her life, and he’s bringing donuts and bagels.

“You should eat something,” Kira says. “I can hold him–”

“I’m fine,” I snap, seeing the look she exchanges with Max, but I don’t fucking care. All I care about is knowing what the hell is going on with the woman I love.

“She’s going to be fine,” Kira says, moving towards me, and placing a hand on my arm. “Layla’s a fighter, and she has everything to live for.”

All I can do is nod, because words fail me.

I pray that she’s right, but when the door opens again, and the doctor walks in, her expression morose, I clench my back teeth, and prepare myself for the worst.

“She’s out of surgery. All we can do now is wait.”

Wait. That’s all I’ve been fucking doing.

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