Dr. Rubio pursed her lips.
“It means we need to do an emergency cesarean section. The baby’s heart rate is beginning to increase, your wife is running a fever, and it’s possible there’s an infection. I’ll assemble my surgical team, but we need to do this right away.”
“That’s fine with me,” said Julia. She was tired. Oh, so tired. The idea of having an end to labor brought welcome relief.
“Are you sure?” Gabriel nervously clutched her hand.
“There really aren’t any other options, Mr. Emerson. I can’t deliver this baby in the position she’s in.” Dr. Rubio’s voice was firm.
“As I told you before, it’s Professor Emerson,” he snapped, his frazzled emotions getting the best of him.
“Sweetie, relax. We’re going to be fine.” Julia smiled thinly and closed her eyes, willing herself to outlast the contractions that continued wracking her body.
Gabriel poured his apology into a chaste kiss and a few whispered words of comfort before Julia’s room became an epicenter of activity. The anesthesiologist arrived and asked a series of questions. The nurse asked Gabriel to follow her so that he could change into surgical scrubs.
He did not want to be separated from Julia, not even for an instant. He’d spent hours at her side, feeding her ice chips and holding her hand. But since he wanted to be with her in the operating room and it was a sterile environment, he agreed to go.
Before he left, Julia extended her hand. He took it, pressing his lips to her palm.
“I don’t regret this,” she whispered.
He pulled back. The pain medication seemed to be affecting her thought processes.
“What don’t you regret, darling?”
“Getting pregnant. After this is over, we’re going to have a little girl. We’ll be a family. Forever.”
He gave her a tight smile and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. You stay strong.”
She returned his smile and closed her eyes, adjusting her breathing in order to deal with the next contraction.
Chapter Eighty-four
In his absence, Julia simply closed her eyes and focused on her breathing—that is, until she was lying in the obstetric operating room and Dr. Rubio began touching the area that had been prepped for incision.
“I can feel that,” said Julia, clearly alarmed.
“Does it feel like pressure?”
“No. I can feel you pinching the skin.”
Gabriel sat at Julia’s side, above the screen that blocked her lower body from his view.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” she said, sounding panicked. “But I can still feel pain. I’m afraid that I’ll feel the incision.”
Dr. Rubio repeated her test, pinching and twisting at Julia’s skin, and Julia insisted with increasing anxiety that she could feel every pinch.
“We have to put her out,” announced the anesthesiologist, moving swiftly to prepare a general anesthetic.
“It’s hard on the baby. Give her something else,” Dr. Rubio objected.
“I can’t give her any more. She’s had an epidural and a top-up. I’m putting her out.”
Julia looked up into the kind eyes of the anesthesiologist.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The anesthesiologist patted her shoulder. “Honey, you don’t need to be sorry. I do this all the time. Just try to relax.”
Gabriel began asking questions as the surgical team buzzed around him.
Julia squeezed his hand as if willing him not to lose his temper. She needed him to be calm. She needed him to watch over her while she slept.
She barely noticed what the doctors were doing, or the anesthesiologist’s instructions. The last thing she heard before she drifted into the darkness was Gabriel’s voice in her ear, assuring her that he would be with her until she woke up.
Chapter Eighty-five
Damn it.” Dr. Rubio released a current of rapid-fire demands and instructions, and her team sprang into action.
“What’s wrong?” Gabriel’s grip on Julia’s limp hand tightened.
Dr. Rubio jerked her head toward Gabriel, without making eye contact. “Get the husband out of here.”
“What?” Gabriel stood to his feet. “What’s happening?”
“I said get him out of here,” Dr. Rubio barked at one of the nurses. “And get the surgeon on call down here. Stat.”
The nurse began herding Gabriel toward the door.
“What’s going on? Tell me!” He raised his voice, directing his questions at the medical team.
No one answered.
The nurse took his arm and tugged.
Gabriel took one last look at Julia, her eyelids taped shut. Her skin pale. Her body still.
She looked as if she were dead.
“Will she be all right?”
The nurse led him through the swinging door and out into the surgical waiting room.
“Someone will be out to speak to you soon.” The nurse nodded encouragingly at Gabriel before returning to the operating room.
He slumped into a chair, his mind spinning. One minute they had been preparing for the cesarean section and the next . . .