Page 97 of Royal Beast
“Mama! Daddy! Help!”
Darcy and I both turn, our conversation forgotten as we rush back into the room. Rose’s voice calls out again, her tone panicked.
“Mama! Help me!”
As we enter the room, I decide to talk to Darcy about this later. Whatever I have to say to her will have to wait because right now, our daughter needs us.
45
DARCY
“Mama! Daddy!”
Rose’s frantic cry echoes through the hospital room, slicing through my chest like a knife. I bolt to her bedside, Kellan right behind me, his longer strides nearly overtaking mine.
My heart pounds as I rush into the room, panic twisting in my gut. I brace for the worst, terrified of what I might find.
Rose’s tiny hands wave in the air, the little IV taped to her wrist swaying as she struggles to hold up a juice box. Her face crumples in frustration, and tears glisten in her big brown eyes.
“It won’t work!” she wails, thrusting the juice box toward us.
I stop short, relief flooding my body so fast my knees feel weak. For a second, all I can do is stare at her, my breath coming out in short, uneven gasps.
Kellan steps forward, scooping the juice box from her little hand. “What’s going on, Rosie Posie?” he asks, his voice low and soothing.
“The straw,” she wails. “It’s stuck!”
Kellan crouches beside her bed, examining the bent straw with exaggerated seriousness. “Ah, a tricky one,” he murmurs. “But lucky for you, I’m a juice box expert.”
Rose blinks at him, her tears already subsiding. “You are?”
“Absolutely,” he says, winking. With careful precision, he straightens the straw and slides it into the tiny foil hole. “There we go.”
Rose giggles as he hands the box back to her, and the sound feels like the first ray of sunlight after a storm.
“You’re the best, Daddy!” she declares, her smile lighting up the room.
My chest tightens at the wordDaddy. She’s said it so easily, so naturally, as if it’s been his name all along. And the way Kellan’s eyes soften when he hears it makes my heart ache in my chest.
I sit on the edge of her bed, smoothing a hand over her curls as she sips her juice. Kellan sinks down on the other side, his hand resting lightly on the bed rail. We’re close enough to touch, but there’s a careful distance between us now, the weight of our earlier conversation hanging in the air.
I still don’t know how he feels right now, about me, about us, but the question has been burning a hole in my chest since we were interrupted. I chance a glance at him, and my breath catches. He’s watching Rose with a look so tender, so fiercely protective, that it almost hurts to see.
If only I knew whether there’s room in that look for me too.
After what feels like days but is really only hours, the doctor finally gives us the green light to take Rose home. I’ve never packed up so fast in my life, putting away the stuffed animal Kellan bought her, the juice boxes she sweet-talked from the nurses, and the balloons and cards from the other Brannagans. Kellan carries Rose to the car, holding her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
She’s asleep by the time we pull into the driveway. Her little head rests against Kellan’s chest as he lifts her out of the car seat and carries her upstairs. I follow, my arms full of Rose’s things.
Kellan lays Rose gently in her bed, tucking her in with the same care he always uses. Even as she stirs, he kisses her forehead and whispers, “Sweet dreams, Rosie Posie.”
I stand in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a lump in my throat. It’s such a simple moment, but it makes me feel like my heart might burst.
When we’re back downstairs, the silence between us feels heavy, like we both know something needs to be said but neither of us wants to be the first to speak. I fidget with the edge of the counter just to keep my hands busy.
“Darcy.”
I freeze, the sound of his voice rooting me to the spot. As I turn, I catch sight of him, hands in his pockets as he stands in the middle of the living room.
