Chance Encounter (Fates Aligned Book 1)

by Christi Whitson

  “But you won’t really have that,” I nodded, following her logic with increasing concern.

  “Exactly. I’ll have pain and fatigue and an emotional roller coaster of hormones… but no baby. I’m just not sure how I’m going to cope with that. It’s not like I didn’t know all along that this was how it was going to end, but every day, it gets a little more real. The closer I get to my due date, the more nervous I am about it.”

  She fell silent for a few moments, and I searched for the right thing to say, recalling the many articles I’d read on this exact issue. Kennedy’s feelings were a textbook representation of the emotions experienced by surrogate mothers the world over, but that didn’t make me any less concerned for her. I chose my next words very carefully, half dreading her response.

  “Are you regretting your decision?”

  “No,” she said emphatically. “Not at all. If I had to do it over, I wouldn’t change anything.”

  “Okay… Are you wishing the baby was yours?”

  She didn’t answer as quickly this time, and I began to look for a place to pull over. This conversation deserved my full attention.

  “No… Not this baby.”

  I didn’t quite understand what she meant, but I waited until I’d pulled the car to a stop on the shoulder. The traffic blurred past us as I turned to face her and gently tilted her chin toward me. Her eyes shimmered slightly, reflecting the dim, colored lights from the dash.

  “What do you mean, ‘not this baby?’ Are you saying you want to have one of your own?”

  “Yes… I always assumed I’d have kids someday, but that day was always in the distant future. I guess I’d never given it much thought beyond that. But now it seems more real. I don’t want this baby, but…” She trailed off, looking to her lap as though afraid to continue.

  “I think I get it.”

  And I couldn’t contain the smile forming on my face as I caressed her cheek. I was tired of holding back. After months spent waiting for the right moment, it seemed I’d finally found it there in the dark confines of my car, parked on the side of the road. But when you know, you know.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. And just so there’s no confusion on the subject… I want that too.”

  “With me?” Kennedy smiled tremulously, a glimmer of relief shining in her blue eyes.

  “Of course with you. I’m ridiculously, hopelessly, grin-like-an-idiot-twenty-four-seven in love with you.” I laughed, feeling infinitely lighter for having finally said the words out loud. “Seeing you pregnant makes me want to scrap all of my grand plans in favor of much simpler ones. A home, a wife… A family.”

  She was grinning like an idiot too.

  “I’m in love with you too. Ridiculously, hopelessly… all of it. But I don’t want you to give up those grand plans. I just want to be a part of them.”

  My heart soared as I leaned across the console to kiss her, and I could practically taste her happiness. I had the feeling she’d been waiting for the right moment too, and knowing her as I did, it wasn’t hard to understand why. Every worry and uncertainty that had kept us from declaring ourselves for months now seemed to fade away, leaving an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. We were lost in each other, intoxicated by our love and practically oblivious to our surroundings. Kennedy eventually broke the kiss with a giggle and placed my hand on her belly. Even the baby seemed to feel our happiness, delivering a series of rapid kicks.

  “Wow,” I beamed. “Seems our niece approves.”

  “Our niece,” she echoed, her eyes misting slightly. The love and happiness in her eyes left me breathless.

  The interior of the car was suddenly illuminated with light, brightening her eyes to the clear blue of a summer day for the briefest of moments. I had only a split second to admire their beauty before a tremendous force slammed us both against our seats and then flung us sideways.

  Everything seemed to vibrate even after the initial impact. The horrific and unmistakable sound of crunching, grinding metal swallowed my involuntary scream of shock, and an even louder booming noise left me disoriented. Sharp pains in my hips and shoulder accompanied an ache in my neck, and my brain struggled to fully process what was happening.

  Someone hit us…

  Seventeen

  Donovan

  The terrible crashing sounds seemed to have stopped, but I couldn’t be certain. The airbags had deployed, silencing everything but the ringing in my ears. There was a strange smell in the air, almost like gunpowder. I groaned in pain, vaguely registering that my car had been pushed forward by the other vehicle and was now resting in the ditch.

  The cabin lights flickered on, revealing the ruined interior, but I barely noticed it. My eyes were drawn to Kennedy’s limp form, and I heard my own voice as though I were underwater. I shouted her name, begged her to open her eyes, screamed for help… But she didn’t move. Other muted voices reached my ears, but their words were garbled.

  “Kennedy! Open your eyes, baby! Come on!”

  I touched the side of her face gingerly, tracing her jaw and searching for a pulse just beneath it. My touch was feather-light at first, but when I couldn’t find the throbbing sensation I was looking for, my hands began to shake in earnest.

  “No, no, no… Please…”

  I pressed my hand gently to her chest instead, pleading silently for signs of life. There was something there. Just the slightest movement in her chest that meant she was still breathing. The haze of confusion and sensory overload was receding from my mind, and my thoughts were a jumble of every medical fact I’d ever picked up from school, movies, and television.

  I shouldn’t move her… She’s breathing, so her heart is still beating, even if it’s too faint to find a pulse… My eyes fell to her protruding stomach with increasing anxiety. Her bump looked somehow rounder and more prominent than it had only twenty minutes ago when Kennedy had fastened her seatbelt beneath it. My thoughts were tinged with fresh terror as I touched her belly. Our niece, so active only moments ago, had gone completely still.

  How long would she survive if Kennedy stopped breathing? Was it already too late?

  The thought sent a shudder through my body, and I felt a sudden change of pressure in my ears. Something had shifted, and the world became much louder. I could hear the airbags hissing as they deflated. There were sirens in the distance, and a stranger’s voice called to me from outside.

  “Hey! Can you hear me? I’ve got 9-1-1 on the phone, and there’s an ambulance on the way!”

  I found my voice with some difficulty and strained to make sure my words were heard.

  “Tell them the passenger is eight months pregnant!” I shouted, willing myself not to fall apart while the stranger cursed and relayed the message to the dispatcher.

  “They want to know if she’s conscious.”

  “No, but she’s breathing. I think…”

  Oh, God…

  The sirens were growing louder, and I turned to look for their source out of the rear window, every bone in my body aching in protest. The emergency responders were still a little way off, but I could see their flashing lights.

  “It’ll be okay, baby. Just hang on. Help is coming, and everything’ll be fine…”

  I leaned toward her, craning my head to get a better look at the opposite side of her face. There was a steady trickle of blood coming from a gash on her temple, but the wound didn’t look very deep. I glanced at her window to see blood there too and wondered how hard she’d hit it. Fuck.

  “Please, be okay…”

  My whispered plea was nearly drowned out by the sirens, and when I glanced back again, I saw an ambulance pull off the road just behind us. Two medics climbed out of the vehicle, grabbing their supplies from the back before running toward the crumpled remains of my car.

  The next few minutes were chaotic with rapid exchanges of information and shouted commands from the emergency responders. Since Kennedy’s door was resting against the slope of the ditch, they
decided to approach from the driver’s side rather than wait for a tow truck to arrive and pull the car out. It seemed to take them forever to pry open my door, but once they’d created access and helped me out of the car, getting Kennedy out didn’t take as long as I’d feared.

  A paramedic fastened a cervical collar around her neck and checked her vitals, relaying the numbers to his colleague, who stood with a bright orange back board at the ready. My vision blurred with tears as I watched the two men strap her to the board and angle it carefully out of the car.

  “Dispatch said she’s eight months,” one of the medics said, momentarily distracting me from the horrific sight of my love being loaded onto a gurney and into the back of the rig. “Do you know exactly how many weeks along she is, sir?”

  “A little more than thirty-two,” I answered quickly.

  I followed them into the ambulance and was relieved when they didn’t make a fuss about whether or not I was a blood relative. Nothing was going to pull me away from her side. One of the men moved to the driver’s seat while the other continued to treat her.

  “You said her name is Kennedy? Do you know her age? Or if she’s had a healthy pregnancy so far? Any other health conditions we should know about?”

  “She’s twenty-six and healthy. No conditions, no complications. We were stopped on the shoulder for a few minutes. She was still wearing her seat belt and everything. The car just… came out of nowhere.”

  At the man’s request, I described as much as I’d been able to figure out about the way the accident had happened. Kennedy’s vitals were stable, but she still hadn’t regained consciousness. The longer her eyes remained closed, the more I feared I might never get to look into them again.

  “Why isn’t she waking up?”

  “Loss of consciousness is normal with a concussion. She’ll come around when she’s ready, and they’ll check her out more thoroughly at the hospital,” the EMT replied, moving a fetal doppler over Kennedy’s abdomen. He held up a finger to ask for my patience while he listened for a heartbeat, and the next thirty seconds of silence were the longest in my life.

  That steady whooshing of fluid had never sounded so beautiful.

  “Fetal heartbeat’s at one-thirty-two. That’s perfectly normal.”

  “That’s lower than usual,” I replied quickly, not comforted by his reassurance. I’d been a spectator at more than one prenatal appointment, and I’d paid attention. “It’s almost always been in the one-fifties.”

  “They’ll do an ultrasound at the hospital to make sure, but there are no signs of fetal distress right now. Try to stay calm, okay? What’s your name, sir?”

  “Donovan.”

  “Okay, Donovan. Your prelim exam looked good on the scene, and I didn’t see any obvious injuries. And since you were conscious and moving, I was more concerned about your friend. But sometimes adrenaline can override your pain receptors, so I need you to do a quick check for me. Any open wounds? Bones or joints that feel out of place?”

  I did as I was told while the EMT continued to work on Kennedy, giving her oxygen and starting an IV. Fortunately, I found nothing of concern. I was stiff and sore as hell, and my head ached something fierce, but there were no wounds or broken bones. I could hear the driver relaying information over the radio, and the surreal turn of events seemed to shift into better clarity.

  “What about the people in the other car? The one that hit us…”

  “Minor injuries. The driver said they were forced off the road by another car. They were slowing down, of course, but they didn’t see you parked on the shoulder until it was too late. All in all, it’s looking like everyone was very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

  I wanted to argue with him as I took in Kennedy’s unconscious form again, but I was startled by movement behind her eyelids.

  “She’s waking up!”

  A second later, her eyes fluttered open, but she squinted in pain beneath the bright interior lights of the ambulance. She groaned and moved her hands to her middle, hugging her belly protectively as her gaze settled on me.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I breathed, my tone gruff and saturated with relief. Thank God…

  “Hey,” Kennedy murmured weakly. Her breath fogged the plastic barrier of her oxygen mask, and her eyes were full of fear. “The baby?”

  “We heard her heartbeat. She’s fine. You bumped your head pretty good, but you’re gonna be okay.”

  “You?”

  “I’m fine.” My body relaxed minutely as I stroked her hair, ignoring the blood that had stained some of the honey-tinted strands. I bent down to kiss her cheek and closed my eyes in fervent relief. “You scared the hell out of me, you know.”

  “Sorry,” she replied, smiling a little despite her obvious pain. “Did you call Miranda?”

  “Not yet, but I will.” I sat up to fish my phone from my pocket, amazed it hadn’t been lost in the crash. “Do you want me to call your parents?”

  “Not yet.”

  I frowned but didn’t argue, easily understanding Kennedy’s inability to deal with her mother right now. I knew Miranda would rally the rest of our family, and as soon as we were a little more settled at the hospital, I’d call Eli.

  Breaking the news to my sister was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Miranda was predictably upset, practically shrieking over the phone into my already aching ear. I reassured her as well as I could, but I knew she wouldn’t be satisfied until she heard it from a doctor. The EMT told us we were headed to Tampa General, and Miranda promised to meet us there as soon as possible.

  “Have Gabe drive, and call Mom and Dad on the way.”

  Miranda’s reply was obscured by a loud groan of pain from Kennedy, and my eyes widened in alarm, the phone call forgotten. She clutched at her rounded belly and curled her spine around it slightly. I covered her hands with my own but was brushed aside almost immediately by the EMT.

  “She’s having a contraction,” the man announced, pressing gently in multiple places. “Not a full one, though. Only the bottom half of the uterus is engaging.”

  “Does that mean she’s in labor?!” Miranda had shouted the question before I could voice it myself, and the EMT had no trouble hearing her even without the benefit of the speaker setting.

  “Not necessarily. But if she is, there are ways to stop it. We’re almost to the hospital. Ma’am, I need you to try to breathe evenly,” he told Kennedy. “Steady oxygen helps you deal with the pain.”

  “It’s too soon,” she grunted.

  “I know. We’ll do everything we can to make sure that baby stays put, but right now I need you to breathe for me. Big, deep breaths, come on.”

  My pulse hammered in my ears as my adrenaline level surged upward again. A distant part of my brain registered that Miranda was still on the phone, no doubt having her own meltdown as Gabe drove them to the hospital. After what felt like an eternity, Kennedy relaxed slightly, panting into the oxygen mask.

  “Miranda, I need to hang up. Call Mom and Dad.”

  I ended the call without another word and shoved the phone back into my pocket. She can yell at me for it later. I held Kennedy’s hand and glanced hopefully out the back window of the ambulance, searching for a landmark that meant we were nearing our destination.

  “How do we know if she’s in labor or if the baby’s still okay?” I asked anxiously.

  “They’ll monitor the contractions at the hospital. Her water hasn’t broken, and the baby’s heart rate is still normal. If she has another one—”

  “Fuck,” Kennedy interrupted, crying out in pain and curling inward around her belly again. She squeezed my hand with a strength that took me by surprise.

  “It’s okay, baby. Keep breathing. You can do it. It’ll pass in just a minute…”

  She couldn’t seem to summon a response as she gasped and twisted on the gurney, and although I kept talking to her, I had the feeling she was fighting to stay conscious.

  “Breathe, Kennedy. You can d
o it. It’s almost done, just hang on…”

  The EMT was assessing her again, and his expression was less optimistic. Before I could ask more questions, however, the ambulance turned into the hospital parking lot and rolled up to the Emergency Department entrance. I breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed Kennedy’s hand encouragingly.

  “Hang in there, baby. We’re here. It’s going to be okay.”

  Kennedy looked dazed as the hospital staff moved her through the corridors and into an exam room, as though she couldn’t focus on anything but the pain. I was forced to release her hand long enough for them to get her transferred into a bed, but I kept up a steady stream of words so she would know I was still there.

  “Sir, are you family?” one of the nurses asked neutrally.

  “I… The baby is my niece, and she’s—”

  “He stays. I want him here,” Kennedy groaned, touching her rigid abdomen as yet another contraction overtook her.

  She’d had two more by the time an ER doctor arrived to assess her, and I tried desperately to follow everything he was saying about various preterm labor interventions and their potential side effects. Miranda and Gabe would arrive soon to help with the decision making, but we couldn’t afford to wait much longer. The doctor administered a dose of something he said should slow the contractions and a round of steroids to help the baby’s lungs mature, in case the interventions weren’t enough to stop the labor.

  They then whisked Kennedy away for a CT scan to check the severity of her head injury, and I remained as close to her as the staff would allow through the process. She was moved to the OB floor afterward, and we were both relieved to find Gabe and Miranda waiting for us when we arrived.

  “Mom and Dad are in the waiting room, and Eli’s on his way,” Miranda told us once the initial hugs of greeting and relief had been exchanged. “The nurse said they gave you something to stop the contractions? How many have there been? How far apart?”

  “You know we can only answer one question at a time, right?” I said wryly, stroking Kennedy’s hair yet again in the hopes of soothing her. “They gave her steroids for the baby’s lungs. And something that starts with a T for the contractions.”