One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance

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One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance Page 23

by Amy Brent


  “407,” I said.

  “You’re not that far from my mother’s. I’m coming, okay? Stay put. I mean, just—let me in when I get there, okay?”

  “Tyler, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “We can talk when I get there.”

  “No, Tyler. It’s serious. It’s personal. It’s—”

  But he hung up the phone before I could finish my statement.

  My gaze fell out the window as my mind began to wake up. A nurse came in with my breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry enough to eat it. She set it on the table next to me and rolled it in front of my body, then left me to my thoughts again.

  I didn’t know how any of this would go over. I didn’t know how Tyler would react once he figured out why I had been in the hospital. Tears rose to my eyes as I closed them, and the sound of running footsteps filled my ears.

  “Ana? Ana!”

  I panned my gaze over to the door as Tyler came to a halt in my doorway.

  “Oh my god. Ana, are you okay?” He strode to my side and took my hand, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me. “Are you hurt? Were you in an accident? Is Brody okay?”

  “Brody’s fine. I’m fine. Is the button at my side green?” I asked.

  “It is,” he said.

  “Can you press it until it turns red again?”

  “Of course. Do you need help eating? It doesn’t look like you’ve touched your food.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat, Ana.”

  Pain relief coursed through my veins again, and my eyes fluttered closed. I felt Tyler’s hand brush my hair away from my face before he cupped my cheek. I turned my face into his palm, relishing his touch. I forced my eyes open to look at him, to take in the worry that shrouded his vision.

  “What are you doing in the recuperation wing of the hospital, Ana?”

  I still didn’t know if I could tell him. I still didn’t know if it was smart to tell him. But the last time I had withheld information from him, it had ruined us. It had ruined my son, almost decimated our families.

  I couldn't do that again.

  Not to him.

  “I had surgery a few days ago,” I said.

  “On what? What happened, Ana?”

  My jaw quivered as I pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.

  “Is your mother really okay?” I asked.

  “She’s fine, Ana. Stop asking. She’s on the mend. Her transplant went well. My father’s currently calling around to rehab centers to get her enrolled as soon as she’s discharged.”

  I smiled at the thought as a tear rolled down my cheek. It had worked. I couldn’t believe it had worked.

  “Ana, if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m going to track down a doctor and—”

  “I’m the donor, Tyler.”

  My eyes fluttered up to his, and I watched his face go blank. His lips parted in shock as his hand fell from my cheek, and panic rushed through my system. My heart rate monitor started beeping faster. Tyler fell back in his seat. He cupped his hands over his mouth as tears rushed to his eyes, then streamed down his face without protest or struggle.

  “You what?” he whispered.

  “I’m your mother’s donor, Tyler.”

  “But how did you—?”

  “When you told me you weren’t a match for your mother, I saw how devastated you were, how scared. And it killed me, Tyler. It killed me to think that you’d lose her. On top of everything else I had put you through—hiding Brody, destroying our relationship, fighting with you all the time—I couldn't let your mother die. Not if I could try to do something about it.”

  “So you—?”

  “I couldn't let you go through anything else, Tyler. You’ve been through too much because of me. So, I came to the hospital to get tested, and a few days later they told me I was a nearly perfect match.”

  He sighed and shook his head as more tears fell from his eyes.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked breathlessly.

  I closed my eyes as that familiar question slammed into my chest.

  “Because I didn’t know if I would be a match and I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want to cause any more hurt than I already had. I didn’t want you thinking I was doing this out of guilt for hiding Brody or anything like that. I didn’t want you to think it was some gesture to try to get you back. I just—I wanted to do it. I wanted to help. I wanted to bring some sort of happiness into your world if I could.”

  His eyes fell upon me and my heart skipped a beat. A nurse came rushing in to check on me and found Tyler crying in the chair next to my bed. She looked at me carefully, and I nodded my head, signaling that it was okay he was there. She checked my pulse and massaged my artery, trying to get my heart rate to slow down.

  “Remember what I told you about working yourself up?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll settle down,” I said.

  She massaged my artery as I took deep breaths, and once my heart rate leveled out, she eyed Tyler carefully and left the room. Before I could turn back toward him, I felt his arms encompass me. I felt his face press into the crook of my neck. I felt his tears drip onto my skin as I kissed the side of his head repeatedly, holding him as he shook against me.

  “You saved my mother,” he murmured.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  “There are no words for what you’ve done, Ana.”

  “It’s fine. I could help, so I did.”

  “You did so much more than help.”

  He pulled back and looked deep into my eyes as I wiped the tears away from his face.

  “You’re incredible, Ana.”

  “Thanks,” I said, grinning.

  I gazed into his eyes before he helped me settle back down in bed. He pulled back and reached for my milk, then opened it and held it to my lips. He cradled the back of my head while I drank, making sure none spilled out and down my skin.

  Then, little by little, he helped me eat.

  He fed me grapes and cut up my eggs, putting small forkfuls into my mouth. He shredded my toast and fed me small bites I wouldn't choke on, then cradled my head again so I could drink. We fell into a silent rhythm, him feeding me before he pressed my pain medication button.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Much better now that I’ve eaten.”

  “I told you that you needed to eat.”

  I smiled at him as I nodded my head.

  “Yeah. I guess you did,” I said.

  “Does Brody need anything while you’re here?”

  “Not that I can think of. But you can go see him whenever you want. I just don’t want him seeing me like this.”

  “That’s understandable. I promise, Ana.”

  “I’ll message you my parents’ address.”

  “Ana, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll go see him soon. But for now?”

  He took my hand before he brought it to his lips to kiss.

  “I want to be here with you,” he said.

  I pushed the table away and shifted in bed, making room for him so he could settle in. He slid underneath the blanket with me and wrapped his arm around my body, pulling my head against his chest. I lay there against his strong body, feeling his heart beating against my cheek. He held my pain pump in his hand and pressed it every time it turned green, flooding my body with the medication I needed to be comfortable.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  I threaded my arm around his body and held him close.

  “No. I’ve got everything I need right here,” I said.

  Tyler

  One Week Later

  “Here, Mom, let me help you into the car.”

  “Oh, you’re such a sweet boy. You know that? So courteous and strong.”

  “Be careful, sweetheart. That’s your son you’re talking about,” my father said, grinning.

  “Are you sure they gave me the right pills? I feel like I’m
on alcohol pills,” my mother said.

  “What are alcohol pills, Mom?” I asked.

  “You know, the ones filled with alcohol that make the world spin,” she said.

  “I promise you have the right medication. Now, let me help you into the car,” I said.

  Ana had been discharged from the hospital a couple days ago, and now it was my mom’s turn. The pain medication she was on really threw her for a loop. The plan was for Mom to spend six weeks at home recuperating, then enroll in rehab. Even though she had already gone through the withdrawal symptoms, she would still need help managing her cravings and finding a sponsor to help her on her journey once she was discharged from the facility. I was really proud of her for taking this next step on her journey to sobriety and being the best person she could be.

  It made me more comfortable bringing Brody around her.

  I buckled my mother into her seat, then ran around and got behind the wheel of the car. My father wanted to stay in the back with her, and I couldn’t blame him. It had taken all I had not to squeeze the life out of Ana’s hand when I’d been driving her back to her place. I pulled us away from the hospital and away from the nightmare that had unfolded there, easing us out onto the main road so we could all go home.

  I felt an urge rise up in me before I had the chance to censor it.

  “I met Mom’s liver donor,” I said.

  “You what?” my father asked.

  “Liver liver, chicken divver,” my mother said, giggling.

  “I thought the doctor said it was anonymous?” my father asked.

  “It was. I sort of stumbled onto their room by mistake,” I said.

  “Was he hunky?” my mother asked.

  I chuckled at her as my father pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Why didn’t you come get me? I would’ve wanted to thank them in person,” he said.

  “You still can,” I said.

  “How?”

  “Because we know them.”

  “We do?” he asked.

  “Who gave me my shiny new chrome-decorated liver?” my mother asked.

  “You hear that, Dad? You're going to have to get Mom a new car with chrome accents now,” I said.

  “Don’t wrap me up into your devious plans, Son. That’s all you,” he said, grinning.

  “Who saved my life?” my mother sang out in the car.

  “Ana did,” I said.

  Even in my mother’s drugged-up state, that name pierced through the fog of her high. My father’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped, and my mother cock her head.

  “Come again?” she asked.

  “The mother of your grandchild was your donor, Mom. Ana was the near-perfect match.”

  “What?” my father asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “She was in the hospital with us?” my mother asked.

  “Five doors down, to be exact,” I said.

  “Ana gave your mother—?”

  My father’s eyes filled with tears as reality dawned on my mother. She whipped her head around, then scrambled for the window and began poking at it with her finger.

  “Turn down that way,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Turn around. Just—just turn around.”

  “Why, Mom? What's wrong?” I asked.

  “Does Ana still live with her parents?” she asked.

  A tear dropped from my father’s eye as I shook my head.

  “She doesn’t, no. She and Brody live in their own place,” I said.

  “Then turn us around and take us there. Now,” she said.

  “Mom, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I want to see her now, Tyler. Take me to her.”

  “I can’t. She’s still recuperating as well.”

  “I want to see her.”

  “Mom—”

  “I want to see the mother of my grandson,” she said.

  “Sweetheart—”

  “I want to see the woman who saved my life!”

  I came to a halt in front of a stoplight as my mother began to tremble. My father wrapped her up in his arms as she cried on his shoulder, her fists beating lightly against his back. Tears rose in my eyes again, and I did the only thing I knew to do. I picked up my cell phone, pulled off onto the side of the road, and called Ana.

  “Hey, you. Did you get your mother home and settled already?” she asked.

  “Not quite. We’ve pulled off onto the side of the road,” I said.

  “What? Why? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Everything’s fine. I just have something to ask of you.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I may have sort of told them who the donor was.”

  “Tyler, that was supposed to be anonymous. It could send your mother into shock for all we know.”

  “She really wants to thank you in person. And I think my father does as well.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do,” he said.

  “Tyler, I can’t drive. Brody’s with me and I’m still on pain medication myself. I have orders not to drive.”

  “I’ll come get you. I’ll pick you up, take you home, the works. Come see us. Let me pick you guys up.”

  “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

  “Please, Ana.” I knew I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care.

  “You’ll come get us?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And this will be an okay thing for Brody to be a part of?”

  “Of course, yes.”

  “Then I’ll get us ready. But don’t rush anything. Get your mother settled at home. We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Ana, for everything.”

  “We’ll see you soon.”

  “See you soon. And give Brody a hug for me.”

  I hung up the phone and got my mother and father to their house. I helped my mother get inside and settled down on the couch, and then I bent forward and kissed her forehead. She cupped my face and gazed into my eyes, her thumb grazing the skin of my cheek. And for the first time, I looked into the eyes of my loving, sober mother.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I whispered.

  “And I’m proud of you, my son.”

  She brought my forehead down to her lips to kiss, and I reveled in the sensation. In the lack of booze on her breath and the steadiness of her hand against my skin. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, relishing the feeling of an attentive mother in my arms.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said.

  I raced out to my car and sped to Ana and Brody’s. When I pulled up, I found them waiting on the porch for me. Brody launched himself out of his chair and came running for me, his arms outstretched for me to pick him up. I swung him around and held him close, smiling and pressing kisses into the crook of his neck.

  But the second I saw Ana stumble when getting off the porch, I put him down and raced to her.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let me help,” I said.

  “I’ve got it. I’m okay,” she said.

  “No, you’re not. And it’s fine.”

  “I don’t want Brody to see me like this,” she whispered.

  I lifted her eyes to meet mine as I wrapped my arm around her body.

  “Let me help you,” I said.

  “Brody needs to see his mother strong, Tyler.”

  “Do you want Brody to grow up and always refuse the help that’s offered to him?”

  She pondered that before she shook her head.

  “Then let me help you. Let me show Brody how a man treats the mother of his child.”

  I scooped her thick, beautiful body into my arms and gently carried her to the car. I settled her in the front seat, watching as Brody buckled himself in. He kicked his legs with excitement and smiled at me, his eyes bouncing between me and Ana.

  “Is Mommy still sick?” he asked.

  “She’s still a little sick, yes,” I said.

  “Like Grandma?”

>   “Yes, kind of like Grandma. So, we’re all going to go be a little sick together. Then you and me and Grandpa can take care of them.”

  “Can Grandpa and I watch a movie?” he asked.

  “I bet if you ask him, he would love that,” I said.

  I wanted to press a kiss to Ana’s forehead, but I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to show her that kind of affection in front of Brody. I settled for squeezing her hand as her eyes found mine, then smiled at her before I closed the door. I turned around and checked Brody’s seat belt just to make sure he was securely in place. Then I slid behind the wheel of the car and cranked the engine.

  “Ready to go see Grandma and Grandpa?” I asked.

  I was shocked with Ana answered along with our son.

  My father was on the porch waiting for us when I pulled up. Brody scrambled out of his seat and went running up to my father, and I could hear him rattling on about the movie all the way from the car. I unbuckled Ana and helped her out, then threaded my arms around her to help her to the porch. She must have just taken some pain medication, because her movements were choppy, uneven. She held onto me tighter than she usually did.

  The second I walked her over the threshold of the house, my mother forced herself off the couch.

  “Ana. My dear, sweet Ana. Oh my gosh.”

  My mother stumbled over to us as I reached my arm out, catching my mother’s drugged movements as I steadied Ana’s.

  “You saved my life,” my mother whispered.

  “It’s okay. It’s all right. Everything’s fine now,” Ana said.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much, Ana.”

  “I could help, so I did. That’s all I did.”

  “You did so much more than that, you silly girl.”

  I chuckled and shook my head as the two women released me and clung to one another. My mother cried into the crook of Ana’s neck, and Ana held her tightly, stroking her hand and swaying side to side. I slowly stepped away from the two women and made my way to my father, standing with him and my son as we watched the spectacle unfold.

  “You’re so beautiful. Such a good mother to my grandson.”

  “And you look so beautiful. Look at you! A new liver looks good on you,” Ana said.

  “My eyes are white again. It’s so nice not to look like I’m dying.”

  “Oh, you never looked like that. I always thought you were so pretty, even in high school.”

 

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