The woman’s words were a blur to Gavin. He could barely think. Emily was the air he’d kill for, the carbon copy of his existence, and now he felt as though he was suffocating. With his heart climbing up his throat, he bent over the bed and focused on Emily’s petrified face. Running his hands through her hair, he leaned down and gently kissed her lips. She held onto his shoulders, crying as she kissed him back. Gavin slowly pulled away, his mind telling him to stay strong.
“Remember what I said to you,” he whispered. “An amazing, healthy baby boy.”
Sniffling, Emily nodded as the nurses pushed the bed out of the room.
Standing in the hall, Gavin watched them rush Emily into an elevator. He swallowed as the doors closed. The world, his heart, time, and everything within it came to a screeching halt. Shoulders weak with fear, Gavin tried to contain the emotions sinking into his muscles. As he turned to walk into the room and wait for the nurse, his gaze snatched his parents making their way toward him. Their faces showed their excitement until they reached him.
“What’s the matter?” Lillian asked, her smile fading.
Gavin shoved a hand through his hair, clearing a lump from his throat. “The baby’s in fetal distress. They just took Emily into the operating room.”
Lillian touched her mouth, the worry in her eyes mirroring Chad’s. She pulled Gavin into her arms. “They’re going to be fine. Don’t you think otherwise.”
Gavin nodded, trying hard to concentrate on his mother’s words. He still couldn’t believe what was happening. Down the hall, he could hear Olivia, Fallon, Trevor, and Colton. Their happiness was apparent too, until they saw Gavin and his parents. After a quick explanation, they all gathered in the room and waited for the nurse. Though small talk was attempted, tension hovered, its presence heavy as the minutes ticked by.
After what seemed like forever, Gavin surged from his chair when a nurse walked in. She handed him a heap of medical clothing, and he wasted no time hurrying into the bathroom to change. Once dressed, he said goodbye to his friends and family and followed the nurse into the elevator. He tried to hang on to hope, but as the elevator doors opened, Gavin couldn’t help but feel as if he was walking into a nightmare of his own. He couldn’t even begin to compute the death of a child, nor did he want to.
He felt his heart speed up, but he shoved the wicked thought to the back of his mind as he entered the operating room. Amongst the chaos, his frantic gaze landed on Emily, his breath evaporating through the chilled air when he saw her. Gavin’s heart slowed, plummeting into his stomach as the nurse guided him over to Emily. Her delicate arms were flailed out to either side, her wrists secured with Velcro. She looked so helpless as she stared up at him, her watery eyes seeping with fear and uncertainty. It sank Gavin.
“I’m here with you, baby. Right here,” he whispered through his surgical mask. His lips tingled to feel hers as he leaned over, his face inches from hers. “I’m not taking my eyes off of yours until I hear Noah cry.”
The slight chill working over Emily’s skin warmed as she stared into Gavin’s eyes. She nodded, wanting nothing more than to touch him. She needed both her men safe in her arms. When the doctor announced he was about to begin, Emily squeezed her eyes closed. A tear slid down her cheek. Gavin intertwined his fingers in hers, and as promised, his gaze never left her eyes. As close as his face was to hers, Emily could feel the heat rolling from his body, felt his love pouring through her.
“I thank God for you every day, Emily Cooper,” Gavin whispered. “You know that?”
Emily shook her head, her heart pounding from Gavin’s words and the twinge of pressure curling through her stomach.
“I do,” Gavin continued, his voice soft. “I also thank God the delivery boy quit the day you walked into my life. I thank God every time you burn a casserole and smoke the shit out of my house.”
Emily gave a weak smile, holding his hand tighter. She couldn’t see Gavin’s mouth, but the shimmer in his eyes told Emily he was also smiling.
“I thank God for every minute you’ve ever given me. Even the bad minutes.” He paused, bringing his face closer. “You told me once you thought you’d broken us. You didn’t break us, doll. You fixed us. Those bad minutes shaped us into what we are. They molded us into what we’re going to be together. We were written for one another, and I wouldn’t change one line in our romance novel. The good, the bad, the in between. It’s ours. We own it.”