Page 42 of Your Sharpest Edge
“Here we go,” the doctor said. “Dad, you might want to look away if you’re squeamish.”
I held Anastasia’s gaze, offering silent support as the minutes stretched on. Before long, the doctor announced that the baby was born. I looked up, desperately hoping to hear a baby cry. That’s what happens when they’re born, right? Seconds later, the loudest little shrill filled the room, and Anastasia started crying.
I teared up. “You did it,” I whispered, kissing her forehead.
“We did it.”
“He looks good, Mom,” the doctor said from where she stood. “What’s his name?”
“Damien,” she whispered, her eyes bright and excited.
“I like that. Welcome to the world, Damien Sokolov. We’re taking him to the NICU for precautions,” the doctor added.
She looked at me, her grip on my arm tightening. “Can you go with him? Please?”
I nodded.
“What does he look like?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Can she see the baby before you take him?” I asked the doctor.
They brought the baby around, and he was tiny, no bigger than a foot long and five pounds.
“He has my nose,” she said, tears streaming down her face.
“You did so well,” I told her, my voice catching in my throat. I was so proud of her and this little guy.
My world felt suddenly complete, watching my only friend give birth and show such incredible strength through everything she endured.
“Please go with him,” she asked again, her eyes pleading.
There was nowhere else I’d rather be.
15
stassi
It had been the longest twelve hours of my life. With Damien still in the NICU and me stuck in recovery, I was consumed by exhaustion, worry, and anxiety. The sterile hospital environment only amplified my sense of isolation and fear.
They had kicked Alex out a few hours ago to run some tests on Damien. The doctors insisted he was healthy, two months early. Alex came back up here even though I told him I would be okay. I glanced toward the corner, where Alex was sprawled on the small couch bed. He was so tall he took up the entire thing, his limbs awkwardly bent to fit. He couldn’t be comfortable.
When my water broke in the middle of the night, I was terrified of being alone. I didn’t have Alex’s number, and the game had ended, so I figured he was out with the team. The shift in our dynamic since I told him I was pregnant had been heartbreaking. I couldn’t skate anymore, and losing my only friend left me feeling more exhausted and alone than ever.
I called Coach out of desperation to help me find Dimitri. I had called him nonstop, but his phone was off. My mother wascoming from Russia to help me while Dimitri was traveling to his games but not for another week.
The only silver lining about being pregnant was that Dimitri spent more time out of the house with whoever he was with. I knew he was cheating on me, but I didn’t care anymore.
I was a shadow of myself, caught between the pain of my home and the uncertain hope of the future. Watching Alex sleep, I wished for a different life, one where I didn’t feel so overwhelmingly sad and alone.
I closed my eyes, wondering if somehow I left them closed long enough I’d be able to escape the pain that festered inside my chest. I had my son to live for now, but now, more than ever, I didn’t want to live. This was my fault.
After the game, Dimitri came home and yelled at me for leaving early. He said I was a coward and should’ve shouldered through the pain. When he pushed me against the wall, my stomach cramped. Then he left, and the moment the door shut, my water broke. The outcome could’ve been so much worse, and I should’ve stayed home from the game.
I was too scared to knock on Alex’s door. We had gotten too close that one day I told him I was pregnant. We crossed some boundary, and the moment his hands came to my chin, I was a goner. But he was here with me, comforting me and helping me through one of my most life-changing moments.
I finally opened my eyes and realized he’d pulled up a chair and was sitting next to me. His eyes were exhausted, and he kept flexing his jaw.
But what I really saw were all the ways I’d messed up, thinking that staying with Dimitri was for the best, allowing him to hurt me. I knew Alex would help me run away, but now, with Dimitri’s son sitting in a NICU room a few floors below us, that would never be possible. I was too much of a coward for months, and now my escape plan was so much more complicated.
