Chance Encounter (Fates Aligned Book 1)

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Chance Encounter (Fates Aligned Book 1) Page 15

by Christi Whitson


  “Probably terbutaline. Is it working?”

  “Not yet,” Kennedy replied, wincing as another contraction began. Miranda leaned closer anxiously, squeezing her hand in solidarity.

  “What about you?” my sister asked with a glance in my direction. “Were you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” I deflected her concern with a wave of my hand and kept my eyes on Kennedy. I knew I’d probably feel like hell once the adrenaline wore off entirely, but I didn’t care.

  After another hour of strong but irregular contractions, it became clear that Kennedy’s labor wasn’t stopping. Not only did her water break, but the baby’s heart rate began to decelerate with each contraction. Her obstetrician had finally arrived from Clearwater, and conversations buzzed around the room as everyone deliberated the best course of action. This drug or that drug for pain relief. Natural or cesarean. How much fetal distress was ‘too much.’ What measures would be taken for the baby once she was delivered…

  I knew Miranda, Gabe, and Kennedy had planned for a natural childbirth with as little intervention as possible, so long as both Kennedy and the baby were healthy. But they’d never anticipated a situation like this. Kennedy was exhausted, and she’d said more than once that the pain her head was almost as bad as the contractions. She had an increasingly difficult time staying present and conscious, and there was a tinge of desperation in her eyes when she squeezed Miranda’s hand to get her attention.

  “I can’t stay awake. If I black out again, I won’t be able to push. Let them do what they have to do.”

  Before Miranda could summon an appropriate response, the fetal heart monitor alarm beeped loudly, and Kennedy’s eyes found my face again just before she slipped from consciousness.

  Eighteen

  Kennedy

  “I can’t believe how tiny she is.”

  “I know,” Donovan agreed. “Almost doesn’t seem real.”

  “I’ve seen preemies before, but…”

  “Yeah.”

  “And she’s okay? Or she will be? They’re sure?”

  “As sure as they can be.”

  My hand clenched around the arm of my wheelchair as I stared into the incubator. The word tiny didn’t seem to do justice to just how small our niece really was. She looked like a doll. Her eyes were covered to protect them from the phototherapy lights, and various sensors recorded her vitals. Her preemie-sized diaper was enormous on her, seeming to emphasize how much ‘catching up’ she would have to do.

  And yet, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope wash over me the longer I watched her. According to the NICU doctors, Kinley Gabriela Cortés was one tough little girl. Though she was less than a day old, she was already exceeding the doctors’ expectations, and everyone was cautiously optimistic that neither the accident nor her early arrival would have any long-term effects on her development.

  Her tiny fingers opened and closed periodically, and her foot flexed a few times. Her miniature pacifier moved rhythmically every so often, and Miranda had sworn she’d responded to her voice more than once. I found it surreal to know that I was looking at the same tiny person I’d carried for eight months. The word miracle seemed insufficient.

  “All that time and energy I spent worrying about how I’d feel after she was born… It seems silly now,” I admitted, touching the hand that rested on my shoulder. Donovan moved slightly so he could see my face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought I could think my way around it. That I could somehow prepare myself mentally for the separation and the hormones… That was ridiculous. There’s nothing that would’ve prepared me for this. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

  “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” Anguish and remorse lined his features, and I frowned in confusion.

  “For what? You did nothing wrong.”

  “I shouldn’t have parked on the shoulder like that. If we hadn’t been sitting here…”

  “You were trying to be safe,” I corrected him gently. “It wasn’t the kind of conversation to have while driving, so you pulled over to give me your attention. If anything, I should’ve just waited until we got home before getting all emotional about—”

  “Stop. It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s not yours either. So, stop beating yourself up about it. Even the people who hit us weren’t really at fault.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “The cops are still looking for the person who ran them off the road.” I nodded but said nothing, returning my gaze to the tiny baby on the other side of the glass.

  After I’d lost consciousness again, Gabe and Miranda had consented to a cesarean and welcomed their daughter into the world a short while later. She’d weighed three pounds and nine ounces and had a full head of thin, dark hair. Despite everything, Kinley was healthy for a premature baby, and the doctors were optimistic about her prognosis.

  Donovan had stayed by my side as long as possible, but he hadn’t been allowed to follow me into the operating room. Apparently, he’d spent the whole time pacing the waiting room in a heightened state of anxiety with the rest of our families while they waited for news. Miranda told me he’d stationed himself at my bedside as soon as the staff had given the all clear.

  To our surprise, Eli wasn’t the only member of my family to make an appearance. My brother had called my parents as well, and Dad had paced right along with Donovan. My mother had been there too, but Donovan had confessed he hadn’t trusted his self-control enough to speak to her. I was touched by his loyalty and almost relieved to hear they hadn’t spoken, since my mother was a lot to take even under the best of circumstances.

  Thinking about my mom seemed to have conjured her presence, because when Donovan wheeled me back to my room, we found her waiting inside. We avoided eye contact as Donovan helped me back into bed and kissed my forehead softly.

  “I’ll give you two a few minutes,” he murmured, smiling a little at the plea I was sure he could see in my expression. “I’ll be right outside.”

  Traitor.

  I watched the door close behind him but didn’t look at my mother for several long moments after he’d left. Muted hospital sounds reached us through the walls, and beams of sunlight through the window gave the room a pleasant sort of warmth. But the three feet that separated us might as well have been a mile.

  “May as well get it over with,” I muttered tonelessly. “You’ve been avoiding me for the last five months, so I know you’ve got plenty of I-told-you-sos saved up. Why don’t you just say what you came to say, Mom?”

  The silence stretched between us, painful and pointed, while I braced myself for the criticism I’d come to expect from my mother.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The words were little more than a whisper, and my head snapped toward her, my eyes wide with disbelief. I was fairly certain I’d never heard Virginia Brighton apologize for anything. Ever.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I reacted very badly to the news about the surrogacy, and I hurt you.”

  “Yes, you did. More than that, you disgusted me. You wanted me to get an abortion, to kill a baby that wasn’t even mine. An apology doesn’t change what you said, Mom. I don’t understand how you could’ve even thought of something like—”

  “I know. I didn’t really mean that, I just… I was upset. And worried about you. I thought for sure you’d made a huge mistake and that you were setting yourself up for more pain than you could handle. But regardless, there’s no excuse for my behavior. You’re just…” She trailed off on a sigh, unable to meet my eyes.

  “I’m just what?”

  “Your heart is so much bigger than mine has ever been, Kennedy. You’ve always lived by a different sort of… code. Sometimes I find it difficult… no, impossible… to put myself in your shoes. I couldn’t understand why you would do something like this. Voluntarily and for people who weren’t even your blood.” Mom shook her head and finally looked up from the hole she’d been sta
ring into the floor, giving me a sad smile. “But yesterday, while you were in recovery… I went up to the NICU and saw your friends. I couldn’t see much of the baby because the doctors were still working on her, but the woman…”

  “Miranda,” I supplied quietly, still slack-jawed at the visible change in my mother. She nodded.

  “Miranda. The way she looked at that little girl… It was like her whole world began and ended with that tiny little person. And I remembered how I felt the first time I held you and your brother. I love you both so much, but I’m not sure I ever felt motherhood with the kind of intensity I saw in your friend’s face. Maybe it just doesn’t happen that way for everyone, but honey… That’s on me. Not you. I get it now.”

  “You understand why I did this?”

  “As much as I ever will, I think. I love you, Kennedy.”

  “I’ve never doubted that. But Mom, it’s so much bigger than just the surrogacy. I’ve never felt like I had your support in anything unless it lined up with what you wanted. And I’m not the only one. You owe Eli an apology too. His divorce has nothing to do with you, and he doesn’t deserve to be guilt-tripped about it. You can’t throw a tantrum every time someone does something you don’t like.”

  I took a deep but shaky breath, feeling a heady rush of relief that I’d finally been able to say the words to her. Even more amazing was the fact that she didn’t argue with them.

  “I’ve already talked to Eli. And your father,” she sighed. “I know I’m a lot to handle sometimes, but I promise I’ll try to do better. To be better.”

  I stared back at my mother and felt like I was seeing her for the first time. While I’d always known I was loved, I’d never heard Mom talk like this. Her avoidance had stung more than a little over the past five months, and I doubted I’d have been able to handle it if I hadn’t had Donovan in my life. Though I would’ve been the last to admit it out loud, I’d missed my mother, and I was more than ready to patch things up.

  “I forgive you,” I said softly. “And I’m sorry too. I probably avoided you just as much as you did me.”

  “You had just cause. I didn’t.” Mom stood up and moved to sit on the side of the bed, bringing her palm to rest on my cheek. Unshed tears filled her green eyes. “You could’ve died, and I never would’ve had the chance to set things right.”

  I nodded and hugged her, unable to recall the last time I felt so much comfort in her embrace. As tumultuous as our relationship had always been, deep down, a girl just needed her mom. By the time we pulled apart, my heart felt significantly lighter, and we were both wiping tears from our cheeks.

  “All right, now, enough of that,” Mom decreed with a watery chuckle. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “Oh?” I was prepared to sit through one of her long-winded stories about some social function or event she’d gone to, but once again, she surprised me.

  “Of course! Tell me about that handsome young man outside the door. How did you meet?”

  I laughed, noting how strange it felt to wear my lovesick smile in front of my mother.

  “Well…”

  Nineteen

  Kennedy

  August 7

  “Did you send me the pictures you took? I want to set that first one as my phone background. I swear she was smiling at me.”

  “Honey, she can’t smile yet. It was probably just gas.” I grinned, unlocking my phone to attach the photos to a text message. The image of Donovan West beaming down at the baby girl in his arms was enough to light up any woman’s ovaries.

  “Pffft. Gas. It was not gas. She loves me. She told me so.”

  “I’m sure she does. You’re her Uncle Donny.”

  “Oh, no. I’ve already had this talk with Miranda. That nickname goes no further.”

  I laughed at his serious tone and pressed the Send icon. Donovan’s phone buzzed in his pocket a second later, but he kept his eyes on the traffic in front of us.

  “You’re kidding yourself if you really think that. Kinley won’t be able to say Donovan, and Miranda will never stop calling you that. May as well make your peace with it.”

  “I’ll work on it with her,” he insisted, frowning a little.

  “Sure. You’re going to look into those big brown eyes and tell her she can’t call you Uncle Donny. We’ll see how that goes.” I giggled again when he failed to produce a comeback, and my eyes moved to the window.

  The scenery was familiar, and I realized with surprise where we were headed. We’d just left Tampa General after visiting our niece, who was set to go home tomorrow, and Donovan had insisted on making a stop on the way back to our apartment. I’d given in to his numerous pleas to recuperate at his place so he could take care of me. Once I’d gotten back on my feet, however, neither of us had been interested in returning to our former living arrangements. So, his apartment had officially become our apartment.

  Donovan gave me his trademark sexy smirk as he parked his new car just outside Cafe Moda. The significance of the date hadn’t escaped my notice, and although we’d talked about our first meeting many times in the past year, we’d never returned to the cafe. He helped me out of the car, and I leaned onto the tips of my toes to press my lips to his cheek.

  “I can’t believe it took us a year to make it back here,” I admitted with a smile as he led me inside. The air was cool and thick with the aroma of coffee, and I welcomed it just as happily as I had the last time I’d walked through the doors.

  “Speak for yourself. I came back.”

  What?

  “You did?”

  “Almost every day for a month after we met. Looking for Emma.” I felt the color rise in my cheeks, and he grinned at me.

  “You never told me that.”

  He shrugged and gestured toward the barista, who was waiting to take our order. I’d been making the most of my dietary freedom now that the pregnancy was over, and I heard him chuckle a little at the triple espresso concoction the staff was now pouring into my cup. Once our drinks were in hand, he guided me over to the table where we’d had our first incredible, albeit largely fictional, conversation.

  He seemed a bit anxious, but I didn’t comment on it. We spent a few minutes talking about the latest restaurant gossip he’d picked up from his coworkers. To my relief, Donovan had loosened up a lot when it came to discussing his job, and it had only brought us closer. As the conversation turned predictably back to the subject of our niece, however, his anxiety increased visibly.

  “Are you okay?” I frowned in concern.

  “Yeah, I… Of course.”

  “You haven’t stopped fidgeting since we sat down. What’s going on?” I watched his throat convulse as he tried to swallow a little too much coffee, and my curiosity peaked.

  “I’m fine, I just…” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “We met in just about the craziest way I’ve ever heard of two people meeting. A year ago today, I sat at this table and lost my heart to a beautiful woman who gave me a fake name and number and then vanished,” he grinned, taking my hand in his.

  My heart skipped a beat, and my skin tingled against his, as though the very atoms of my being could sense a change in him. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was every bit as handsome as the first time I’d seen him, when I’d lost myself in his dark gaze and been convinced he couldn’t possibly want me. His eyes were just as intense now, and I struggled to keep breathing in spite of my growing anticipation.

  “Up to that point, I’d convinced myself that romance and relationships just weren’t worth the hassle, and I’d given up on taking risks with my heart. But that day, all it took was a chance encounter and an hour of your company… and I walked out of here a different man. If the way we met was crazy, the way our paths crossed again was insane,” he chuckled. “In a million years, I’d never have expected something like that. But I love our craziness. And I want more.”

  Donovan squeezed my hand before moving to kneel next to my seat, pulling a black velvet box from
his pocket and letting it rest in his palm.

  Holy fuck.

  He nodded toward the box, releasing my hand long enough to allow me to open it. The breath I’d been holding left me in a rush of elation and disbelief as I looked at the perfect engagement ring inside.

  It was simple and elegant. Two bands of silver twisted around each other, one encrusted with tiny diamonds. The round-cut diamond in the center was the perfect size for my hand, and it gleamed beautifully in the sunlight that shone through the window behind me. I met his gaze again, and I knew the answer was dancing in my eyes before he’d even formed the question.

  “I can’t imagine a future without you. You made me believe in love again, Kennedy. You showed me that even the craziest dreams can come true. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!”

  I couldn’t have contained the word even one more second, and I practically fell into his arms. He kissed me with a passion that was almost inappropriate for a public place, but I didn’t care. If anyone tried to arrest us for indecency, we both would have surrendered with a smile so long as we could share a cell.

  After a few moments, we registered the sound of applause around us, and we broke apart to see the other patrons and even a few staff members smiling and clapping for us. Several even had their camera phones out. Donovan stood up and pulled me to my feet along with him, pausing to remove the ring from the box and slip it onto my finger.

  “Wow,” I breathed, admiring the ring again. His ring.

  Happy tears spilled over my cheeks, and Donovan kissed them away gently. I gave a watery chuckle, knowing I couldn’t even blame my postpartum hormones for this. The emotional fallout I’d dreaded had sorted itself out within a week or so, and nearly every second of it had passed with Donovan at my side.

 

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