CHAPTER 10
Greg
“Mr. Cage?” I jump when I hear my name being whispered. When I look around, it takes me a second to remember where I am, but when I do, it all comes crashing down at once.
Melissa.
The accident.
My girls, born and fighting for their lives.
Cohen, safe and scared.
Everything I thought set in stone for our happy lives together is hanging by a thread.
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you.” She smiles weakly, giving me a chance to get my bearings.
“It’s okay. I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep.”
I look around, noting that Axel and Izzy are still in the same spot across the room. Dee’s moved and is now lying with her head in Beck’s lap. Asher is pacing, no doubt having a hard time being in the hospital so soon after losing his brother. Sway and Davey are seated in chairs, silently holding hands and waiting for the nurse to start talking.
Fortunately, Chelcie took Cohen home with her. It had been almost impossible for me to let him go, but I know he needs to be able to sleep and I need to be able to be here for Melissa.
“Would you like to come and see your daughters? I apologize for not being out here sooner. We’ve had a few other emergencies come in within the last hour that have kept me tied up.”
For the first time since I got the call from Beck earlier, I feel a little bit of hope wash over my body.
“Yes . . .” I clear the emotions threatening to bubble over the top with a cough. “Yes, please. I need to see my girls.”
She smiles and asks me to follow her. I take one more look around the room, meeting the eyes of my friends who have proven time and time again that we are just a big family. We love together, we fight together, and most importantly, we’re there when one of us hits rock bottom with no hope of getting up again without support.
When we finally stop walking she asks me to put on a gown, a mask, and some stupid hat to cover my hair. I don’t even question her. Knowing that my girls are just beyond the doorway has me rushing through all of her instructions.
The second I finish scrubbing what feels like every inch of my skin, I turn to her and wait. I try and calm my breathing, but knowing that I’m seconds away from meeting my daughters is making that next to impossible.
“Don’t be alarmed by all the wires. They really are more intimidating than anything. Right now, they’re doing remarkably well for being born this early. I was just looking at their charts before I came to find you. The doctor will go over it in more detail, but those two little girls are some strong little fighters.”
I give her a weak smile, unable to express how much that means to me right now. Hearing that my girls have their mother’s spirit helps that little seed of hope to grow a little larger.
Right before we step into the room I stop her, asking the one question I desperately need an answer to. “My wife, please . . . I need to know how she is.”
“Let’s get you in here to see your girls and I’ll go chase down her doctor for you, okay?”
I nod, take a deep breath, and get ready to see my girls.
There is nothing in this world that can prepare you for the helplessness you feel at seeing your tiny babies with tubes and wires connected all over their small bodies. Everything about them terrifies me. But seeing them in their plastic incubator, the machines telling me that they are very much alive, gives me a small sliver of peace. I would give anything to be able to hold my girls, but for now I’ll settle with the small hole I’m allowed to stick my hand through to feel their skin against my own.
I listen intently when the nurses explained everything they have attached to them and their care plan. Knowing that they have a long road ahead of them is made easier by knowing that there is a clear path to get to the finish line.
I spend the next thirty minutes in there looking at my princesses and stroking their tiny arms and hands, both just a little over three pounds of perfection, and giving my heart over to two more people.
I can’t take my eyes off them, but when I hear a throat clear behind me, I finally allow myself to step away from my girls.
“Mr. Cage.”
I look down at his lab coat. “Dr. Walsh.” I turn to give my girls another look, bending forward and whispering softly to each of them through their incubator, “Be strong, my little warriors. Daddy loves you.”
Once we step into the hall, Dr. Walsh turns to me and doesn’t waste any time. “If you could follow me, I’ll take you to your wife’s room, Mr. Cage.”