Please. Please. Please.
Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I just ask the question outright. “Do you have good news for us?”
Dr. Grigory looks down at his clipboard and I know instinctively that’s a bad sign. If it were good news, he’d have just told it to us straight.
The doctor clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Alyssa. One baby’s vitals have dropped considerably. I doubt it will get any better without intervention. I’m afraid it’s time for the two of you to make a decision.”
I glance at Uri. His arms are crossed tight across his chest, his face stormy and brooding. “And our options are to operate now and deliver both babies or wait it out and hope?”
Dr. Grigory nods. “My medical recommendation? We go in now and deliver those babies by Cesarean. You’re close enough to thirty weeks that the weaker baby has a chance of survival. And the risk to you will be lower as well.”
“Okay,” Uri decides without so much as glancing my way. “Then let’s do it.”
“Wait!”
Both Uri and the doctor turn to me sharply. Dr. Grigory puts down his clipboard and gets to his feet. “Alyssa, you’re going to have to be on constant bed rest if you continue with this pregnancy. The slightest issue could cause premature labor or fetal distress.”
“But if I do, then the weaker baby will have the chance to grow a little more, get stronger. Right?”
Dr. Grigory groans, pained. “Er, well, yes, theoretically speaking—”
“Then I’ll wait.”
“Alyssa—”
“Give me a number. Put a number on it and then I’ll decide for good.”
He twists back and forth like he’d rather sacrifice a finger than pick a number. “Alyssa—” he tries again.
“Please,” I say. “In your expert opinion, just give me an educated guess.”
He sighs, his shoulders drooping forward and that damned clipboard dangling loosely between his fingertips. “Thirty percent. Forty tops.”
I nod. “Then I think I should wait. I can do it. I can keep these babies safe until it’s time for them to be born.”
“Ty, dolzhno byt', shutish' nado mnoy!” My head swivels towards Uri, who’s glaring down at me with shock and outrage. “Are you fucking serious?”
Dr. Grigory clears his throat and retreats toward the exit, mumbling, “We’ll give the two of you a moment.” Then he and his nurses scurry out of the room like mice clearing a burning building.
I shove myself upright in bed. “If I let them deliver these babies now, there’s a sixty to seventy percent chance that we’ll lose one!”
“And if we don’t let them deliver those babies now, we’re running the risk of losing one baby anyway and losing you.”
I square my jaw. “I’m willing to take that risk.”
“No.”
My eyes go wide. “No?”
“I’m saying no,” Uri growls. “As the father of those babies—”
“Screw you! You may be the father, but I’m the mother and I’m the one carrying them. My body, my decision!”
Uri’s hands are clenched into fists. His eyes are flared with danger—and once upon a time, I would’ve done anything he told me to do if he said it while he looked like that.
But things have changed. I’m not the scared little girl dangling on the fence anymore. The game has gone up a level, the stakes have raised, and somewhere along the way, Uri showed me how to be stronger. How to stand my ground.
He has only himself to blame for my defiance now. Terrifying though he may be, my fear of losing a child is greater.
“Don’t do this,” he rasps as he grabs my hand. “Don’t do this. We’ll still have one baby. And we can make more if that’s what you want. I don’t want to risk your life in the process.”
It’s the most earnest request he’s ever made. And if I hadn’t lived through losing a sister, he might have stood a chance of swaying me. But as it stands, I know I can’t make any other decision.
“This is my choice, Uri. I don’t need your blessing or your permission; I just need your support.”
His eyes go cold. He drops my hand. The next thing I know, he’s storming out of the room. And no matter how desperately I call after him, he doesn’t stay.
He doesn’t even spare me a glance before the door slams shut.
48
URI
The whole point is to storm out to show Alyssa how I feel about her choice. But I only get as far as the hallway right outside her door. Going farther than that feels like ripping out my own heart. So I pace up and down, unable to justify actually leaving the hospital. Even moving out of sight of her room is impossible.
The truth is, no matter how pissed off I am with her, no matter how unreasonable I think she’s being, I can’t bring myself to leave her. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through. The most I can do is prowl the corridors like a caged beast and shoot furious glances at her door when I pass.
The nurses stay clear of me and no one dares approach me until Nikolai, who walks down the hall with two cups of coffee in hand. He takes one look at my face and offers me a cup. “Not sure you should be drinking caffeine right now, but here you go.”
I take the cup and have a sip. It’s strong, just the way I like it. And it burns on the way down, just like I need.
“Are you gonna tell me why you look like you wanna burn down the hospital?” A nurse happens to pass at that very moment and she throws us a startled, wide-eyed glance. Nikolai gives her a sheepish grin in return. “Just a figure of speech, don’t worry.”
She doesn’t look all that soothed as she continues down the hallway.
“Is it Alyssa?” he asks once we’re alone again. “Is she okay? Is it the babies?”
I try to breathe through my frustration. “Grigory thinks the babies should be delivered now. He thinks it’s the best chance for Alyssa and for the healthier baby.”
Nikolai raises his eyebrows. “‘The healthier baby’?”
I sigh and close my eyes. The bitter taste of the coffee lingers on my tongue like motor oil. “The weaker baby may not make it.”
“And what does Alyssa think?”
“Alyssa wants to wait.” I grit my teeth and wait until the tide of anger recedes a bit before continuing. “She thinks she can hold out until the weaker baby is stronger.”
It pisses me off that Nikolai doesn’t look as enraged as I feel right now. In fact, he nods with an expression that looks suspiciously like understanding. “She wants to try and do her best for the second baby.”
“At the cost of her own life?” I hiss. “Her pregnancy is high-risk, Nikolai. If one of the babies experiences fetal distress, we’re talking about an emergency C-section that could result in infection and severe blood loss. She could die.”
“She’s a mother,” Nikolai says simply. “Of course she would think that’s a worthy risk.”
“The doctors are supposed to tell her otherwise. I should’ve sent Grigory to fucking Norilsk years ago.”
Nikolai coughs on his sip of coffee. Norilsk is the most frozen, isolated shithole in all of Russia. It’s not a threat to be made lightly. “Grigory’s been with us for years. He knows his shit.”