Page 101 of Cross Check Daddies
She smiles, steps forward. She looks nervous as she pushes her hair back. She only manages to say three words, “Congratulations, Miami Icemen…”
I see her sway. See the glassiness hit her eyes. I’m moving before she even hits the floor.
I catch her.
People rush to help. Ivy is shouting her name, already dialing 911. Cam and Tanner push through the crowd, shouldering people back like a shield. Jackson screams. Ivy scoops him up, holding him tight, whispering reassurances.
Brooke is barely conscious in my arms, head limp against my chest, her hand clutching at my shirt like her body won’t let go even if her mind is fading.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
At the hospital, everything is sterile. The chairs are stiff, the coffee is cold, and the clock never moves. I sit beside her bed while monitors beep steadily and the IV drips slowly.
She’s pale. Exhausted. Still wearing that dress, now rumpled and too thin for how cold she must be.
Cam paces. Tanner hasn’t spoken since we got here. Ivy took Jackson to grab something to eat a while ago. He didn’t want to leave, but she promised she’d explain.
The doctor finally comes in.
“Severe dehydration,” she says. “Stress. Low iron. You’ve been burning yourself out.”
Brooke nods like she already knew this was coming.
“But you did the right thing coming in when you did,” the doctor continues. “You’re stable now. You just need rest.”
Brooke nods again, but her eyes are glassy.
“The good news is, the baby is fine.”
Her whole body shudders with relief. Cam closes his eyes. Tanner lets out a breath. I think we all do.
But then the doctor glances at the chart again.
“Babies, actually.”
Silence.
Brooke stares.
Tanner stiffens.
Cam turns to face the doctor fully.
I blink, sure I misheard.
“Twins,” she confirms.
Brooke’s hand flies to her stomach just as Cam slides into the chair beside her. His face is unreadable.
“Is that... safe?” he asks.
The doctor softens her tone. “It will be. But we’ll need to monitor things more closely. I read in your file that you had a high-risk pregnancy before. Placental issues?”
Brooke nods, lips pressed tight. “With Jackson. I had early contractions, and there was… a lot of bleeding. It was rough.”
“You’re stronger now,” the doctor says. “And we’ll take every precaution. But you have to take care of yourself. Starting now.”
Brooke nods again, but I can see the panic setting in. She’s swallowing hard. She blinks too fast.
