by Loraine, Kim
“When he hit the ground, he suffered a compound fracture to the wrist. We had to set it with pins and screws. He came through the surgery just fine.”
“Can I see him?”
“He’s in recovery. A little groggy, but the nurses tell me he’s been asking for Grace. I’m hoping that’s you.” He winked at her.
“Yes.” Tears flowed freely as his words settled over her. “That’s me.”
Even after the doctor told her Drew was fine, Grace’s breaths didn’t come easily until she saw him.
He was dozing in the hospital bed, bruises shadowing his jaw, hair rumpled, and monitors attached to him. She ran her fingers through his hair and he sighed, eyes fluttering open. His gaze wandered the room for a moment before landing on her.
“There’s the face I wanted to see.” His words slurred slightly as he sat in the bed and offered her a pain-weary smile.
“If you needed attention, you could’ve just asked. You didn’t need to go and get yourself hit by a car.”
He chuckled and winced.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t make you laugh.” She hated seeing him in pain.
“Come sit down, love. You shouldn’t be on your feet.” His words were slow as he extended his uninjured arm and when she grasped his hand he pulled her to the bed.
“Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Not really. I’m . . . a bit foggy and it hurts to laugh. I’ve got a couple of broken ribs to add to the tally. This makes,” he paused, eyes trained on the ceiling as he thought, “seven broken bones now.”
She raised her eyebrow at him and he pointed to his clavicle, then his hand, followed by his nose.
“Wow. I wish I would’ve known how accident prone you are before I married you.”
“Most of them are football related. Except the hand. That one happened when I dropped a beer keg on it at University. I’m sure it would’ve hurt something awful if I hadn’t been so pissed at the time.”
His free hand gently caressed her arm, grasping the frayed holes of her sweater and shaking his head.
“Woman, what are you wearing?”
She looked down at the outfit she’d thrown together and laughed. “I don’t know. I grabbed what was close and got in the bloody car.”
His eyebrows rose and a smirk crossed his lips. “Bloody,” he murmured. “I’m teaching you bad habits.”
“I called your dad. He should get here in a few hours. How long do you think you’ll be here?”
She watched his lips turn down in a small pout. “Through the night. They want to watch my concussion. I suppose that’s what I get for being distracted while I was running.”
“I’ll sleep here with you.”
He shook his head. “No. You need our bed. Dad will give me a ride home tomorrow.”
“Drew, I don’t want to be away from you. When I got that call I thought . . .” She let out a sob, then took in a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I thought it was John all over again.”
His hand crept up her arm and neck to rest on her cheek. “I’m all right. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know. I just got you back. I—”
“Hush, love. I know. I’m sorry.”
Chapter 17
Six weeks after the accident, Drew’s broken bones were almost completely healed. Not allowing anything to stop him, he’d been back to work for the last month. He’d gotten the new stores successfully opened but, in Grace’s opinion, he’d gone back too soon. Each night he came home looking haggard, his eyes filled with pain.
The late January weather had been unseasonably warm and the usually barren bushes and shrubs already showed signs of spring. She sat in the sunlight that streamed through the window of the sunroom. Her feet were propped up on a plush ottoman while she took in the beautiful English garden outside her window. An intense tickling sensation took her by surprise as her swollen belly danced under her hand.
“Restless are we?” she asked, laughing and rubbing the hard bulge that pressed outward on her right side.
She stretched her toes and sat up a little straighter. Breathing while sitting was challenging at thirty-six weeks. She pulled up her shirt and examined the skin on her belly. It was stretched so tightly that it itched and felt like it would burst at times. Long purple marks streaked across her skin where it couldn’t stretch any further. She ran her fingers over the marks, feeling self-conscious about their ugliness and frowned.
“You’re beautiful, love. Stop it.” Drew’s voice came from behind her, and she turned to face him.
He was standing in the doorway, freshly dressed and showered, his thick hair still wet. He smelled of soap and clean linen, making her wish for the days when she could run and crush herself to him without knocking him over.
He sauntered toward her, taking in her enormous form as he approached. He always said she was beautiful, but at this point, she just felt like a blimp. His palm ran along the tightly stretched skin over her womb and he smiled.
“How are they today?”
She sighed. “Running out of room and just about ready to meet us.”
“And you, love? How are you feeling?” His eyes were full of concern.
“Huge. I’m feeling huge.”
He smirked and knelt next to her. “Not for much longer.”
Butterflies beat against her chest when she thought of the upcoming induction. She and her doctor had been at odds about the birth. She wanted to labor naturally and try to bring their babies into the world on her own; he wanted to do a C-section. They compromised with an induction that would be closely monitored for any complications.
“I feel like we aren’t ready. How are we going to do this?”
He looked at her then, his face full of determination and resolve. “Grace, love. We’ll do it the same way we’ve done everything. We’ll make mistakes and have hard times, but we’ll love each other and we’ll love these two miracles. That’s the best part. We’ll learn as we go.”
She pulled him to her, and pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.
“If I didn’t know better, Mr. Tensley, I’d say you fancy me.”
“Quite right, Mrs. Tensley. Quite right.”
They’d been through so much together and had come out the other side stronger. The feel of his fingers as they tangled in her hair made her heart swell.
Sighing, he let her go, an earnest expression on his face.
“What? I know that look. What’s wrong?” she asked.
A gentle smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve been talking with Maggie. Just over the last few days. I’m taking your advice, which I should’ve done from the get go. There’s no reason for me not to have a relationship with her.”
She couldn’t hide her pride. “Really?”
“We’re having a video chat tonight. I think it’s a step in the right direction.”
“Oh, Drew, I think that’s wonderful.”
“I’m sorry I was so stubborn about it. It was just ... a lot to process. Dad handed me my arse when he found out.”
She snickered, picturing David doing what he did best. “He’s pretty good at that.”
“He’s had a lifetime of practice.”
Running her fingers along the soft scar at his wrist, she fought off a momentary wave of panic at the idea of losing him again. “I’m glad you had him to talk to. I wish I’d been more understanding.”
As if he knew exactly what his scar brought to her mind, he stilled her fingers with his hand. “I’m fine, love. We’re here, together, as we should be.”
Unable to keep her tears contained, she let one spill before wiping the moisture from her eyes. “As we should be,” she repeated.
His warm gaze met hers as he stroked her hair. “
I’ve got a few last minute things to sort out before tomorrow. Will you be all right by yourself for a while?”
She nodded and took his hand, glad to see him moving without pain.
“I love you,” she murmured, offering her lips to him again.
“I love you, all three of you, so bloody much.” He brushed her mouth with his and an involuntary sigh escaped her.
She watched him leave the room, savoring the scent he left in his wake and wishing he didn’t have to be at work.
After reading a chapter of the romance novel she’d been engrossed in over the last few days, she stood, waddling to the living room so she could once again assume a reclined position.
“One more day, you two. Then I’ll have my mobility back.” She laughed as one of the babies kicked her hard in the ribs.
The doorbell sounded as she settled herself onto the couch, and she sighed. Pressing one hand against the small of her back and the other to the arm of the couch, she pushed herself to a standing position and groaned as her hips and back protested.
Another press of the bell had her rushing as fast as her considerable belly would allow and she called, “Just a minute.”
The sight of Sarah sent a white hot rage through her as she swung open the door.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see Drews. I’ve been across the pond and only just heard he’d been hit by a car. Poor dear. Is he here? Or did he finally cut you loose?”
“You know, someone once told me you’re like quicksand for him. I thought that was a very apt analogy. Not anymore.”
“He wasn’t complaining during all of the long hours we spent together while you sat around on your arse getting fat.”
She clenched her teeth against the anger that boiled her blood.
“You’re not quicksand. You’re like an STD, like a raging case of chlamydia—nasty and hard to get rid of.”
Sarah’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“You know the thing about chlamydia is, eventually, with a nice shot of penicillin, you can kill it.”
“Is that a threat?”
Grace placed one hand on the door, ready to slam it in the wretched woman’s face. “Yes. Stay away from my family. Drew may be too nice to say this, but I’m not. You are slime. You never deserved him. From now on, you’ll keep your dirty, skanky ass out of Braley.”
“You fucking cow!” Sarah screamed as Grace turned away.
As the door swung closed, Grace heaved a sigh of relief, until a burning pain lanced through her scalp. She was pulled backward by Sarah’s hands in her hair and fell hard on the ground.
“No one calls me dirty. No one, you bitch.”
Pain blossomed deep in her sides as Sarah’s feet connected with Grace’s kidneys repeatedly. She gasped for breath and fought off the nausea as she curled into a ball, protecting her babies from the assault.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Drew’s shout broke through the haze of pain. Grace had never been happier to hear his voice.
The kicking stopped, and she heard Sarah’s screams of protest as Drew hauled her off.
Grace stood slowly, her head spinning and sides aching.
“Grace! Oh, God, are you all right?” Drew’s hands were everywhere—running over her belly, her arms, her face.
“I think so. I . . . I’m not sure.” As she moved to sit on the bench at their entryway, a deep ache took hold of her belly and she cried out as a gush of liquid warmed her thighs, spilling onto the floor.
Drew’s face paled as he stared at her feet.
“Fuck,” he whispered, causing her to look down.
The floor was covered with blood, bright red and plentiful.
Placental abruption, uterine trauma, emergency cesarean section. The words swam in Drew’s head as they rushed his wife to the operating room. They wouldn’t let him in to be with her, and he could see how scared she was. He was just as terrified.
The police waited for him to get everything sorted with Grace, and he dreaded the conversation he needed to have with them. Filing charges meant a report, which meant he’d have to relive the moment he saw his ex-wife kicking the life out of Grace and his children.
“All right, Mr. Tensley?” Detective Inspector Coleman stood with a notepad in her hand, watching him with sympathetic eyes.
He nodded and sank down onto one of the open chairs in the waiting room.
“If you wouldn’t mind going over the events that transpired this afternoon. We need a solid statement so the charges are clear.”
“You have her in custody?” he asked.
“Yes. She wasn’t far from your home after your call.”
His anxiety lessened knowing Sarah had been arrested and wouldn’t be a risk to them for now. As he settled in and told the story, answered questions, he fought back the fear that had gripped him when he’d seen Grace curled up on the ground. He kept his eyes focused on the white tips of his Converse trainers. They were dotted with blood—Grace’s blood.
The questions continued, over and over, until he finally heaved a shaky sigh and turned a pleading expression to the two police officers.
“Do you think we could continue this when my wife and children aren’t fighting for their lives?”
The officers nodded, offered their best wishes, and left him with only the sounds of a labor and delivery ward.
After what seemed like hours, he heard his name being called. A short woman dressed in scrubs with a surgical cap covering her hair walked over, a smile on her face.
“Mr. Tensley, would you like to meet your daughters?”
His stomach dropped. “Daughters?”
“Yes. Two beautiful girls.”
He stood on shaky legs and followed the woman to the nursery. Two little bundles, wrapped in white blankets, their heads covered in tiny pink hats, slept next to each other on the same cot. He let out a shaky breath as he watched them sleep. They faced each other, their foreheads almost touching. Small, heart-shaped faces, Cupid’s bow lips, long lashes. They looked just like Grace.
“How’s my wife?” He almost cringed at the question.
“She’s fine. She’s sleeping now. You did right by getting her here as soon as you did.”
“When can I see her?”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
A baby started stirring, letting out a small squeak of annoyance. Her face scrunched up and turned red.
“Would you like to hold her?” the nurse asked.
A bolt of nervous energy ran through him.
“How do I . . . I’ve never . . .”
“Over here. Wash up first. Then go sit in the rocking chair. You can relax a bit.”
She scooped up the delicate, beautiful creature and placed her in the crook of his arm.
He rocked slowly, careful not to jostle his daughter. Her eyes blinked open and she stared at him. His heart ached with the gravity of this moment. This was something he’d keep with him until his last breath.
“Hello there, little love. I’m your daddy,” he whispered.
Hearing another cry of protest, he looked up and saw the nurse cradling his other daughter as she brought her to him.
“Here’s your second sweetheart.”
Both arms full, he grinned like an idiot at the two little ladies who owned his heart just as much as their mother.
Chapter 18
Grace woke with an unbearably dry mouth and a deep ache which had settled over every inch of her body. A heavy weight laid across one leg and she reached down to push it away. When her hand brushed across Drew’s stubbled jaw, she remembered where she was.
Drew blinked sleepy eyes as he sat up and smiled. “Hello, there.”
Her chin wobbled an
d she lost it at his gentle voice.
“Don’t cry. Oh, please don’t. It’s all right, love.”
He wrapped her in his arms and let her tears soak his shirt.
“Where are they? Did they make it?” Her chest was tight with fear.
“They’re perfect. Absolutely brilliant little girls.” His smile was wide and beaming. A proud father indeed. “They’re in the nursery. I spent most of the evening with them while you were sleeping.”
“Girls?” Somehow hearing she had daughters made it all real. She needed to see them, hold them, smell their skin and kiss their fingers.
“Do you want me to bring them in?”
She chuckled. “Do you really have to ask?”
“Right. Back in a tick.”
Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she waited to meet her daughters for the first time. When the door reopened, her heart constricted in her chest. Drew walked in carrying one squirming baby, while the nurse pushed a cot containing the other.
“Baby A,” he said, handing the tiny bundle to her.
“Hello, Eloise.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Eloise?”
She nodded.
The nurse brought her Baby B and tucked her into the crook of Grace’s free arm. “And Evelyn.”
Drew smiled. “What about middle names?”
She had one decided and had to clear the emotion from her throat before speaking. “Mary. Eloise Mary, after your mom.”
His eyes misted and she knew she’d done well. Mary had been such an integral part of their early relationship up until cancer had claimed her life.
“If we’re going to use my mum’s name, then I think Evelyn should be named for yours. Evelyn Abigail.”
She couldn’t control the trembling of her lip as the babies slept. All she could offer him was a nod.