Worth Every Risk

by Laine, Terri E.

  “That was great timing on our part.”

  Violet wakes up then and starts to cry. Andi is on it like lightning.

  “Hey, sweets. I’m right here.”

  “Thirsty.”

  Andi hands her the cup filled with ice water and she eagerly takes it. She’s been asleep for quite a while now.

  “Hey, superstar. Are you hungry?”

  Her eyes don’t look so hot to me. They’re shaded in purple and I hate it.

  Her head bobs up and down. “Waffles.” Only it doesn’t sound exactly like that.

  Andi laughs. “Waffles? It’s dinnertime.”

  Violet does her best at smiling. “Waffles,” she repeats.

  “I’ll see if I can work some waffle-ific magic.” I run down the hall to the nurses’ station and ask one of the nurses, “Hey, what are the chances of getting my little girl a waffle to eat?”

  “You are in luck. We cater to kids up here. Didn’t you know that? They eat at all hours and we aim to please. There’s one thing we do best here and it’s giving them what they want to eat when they want it.”

  “You’re serious?” I ask.

  “You bet. She hasn’t eaten in a few hours and she needs to eat. If she wants waffles, I think we can work up a waffle for her. It won’t be homemade, now.”

  I laugh. “She likes the frozen kind. Butter and syrup, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “Oh, and …”

  “What is it?”

  “Do you have any orange juice boxes?”

  “Follow me.” I do as she tells me and she shows me the secret stash. There is a refrigerator/freezer combo with all sorts of food in there. She pulls out an orange juice box and hands it to me, then checks for the frozen waffles. “We’re out of waffles in this one, but I’m sure one of the freezers has some. They’re a popular item up here. Help yourself to whatever you see in there.” She points to the appliance. “I’ll be back.”

  I grab a couple of different juice boxes and take them back to the room. “Andi.” She glances up and sees me in the doorway. “Here.” I hand them off to her and tell her I’ll be back.

  When I get back to the little room with the kitchen, the nurse has returned with pay dirt. A box of frozen waffles is in her hand.

  “I owe you big.”

  “Nah, just replace the box. It’s kind of how it works. We handle all the drinks. The food is where you use it, you give it back.”

  “Oh, I’ll buy this place a year’s supply of them if you want.”

  She only stares at me, then says, “Toaster is in there, and don’t forget the butter and syrup. Plates, plastic forks, and knives are in there. Wash them before she uses them.”

  “Got it.” I go to work creating her waffle, and when I return to her room, I am rewarded with a half-smile. It’s the best thing I’ve seen all day. She only eats half the damn waffle, but who cares? That she ate something is all that counts, and I was able to make her happy by giving her something she asked for. The little things in life …

  That’s how day 0 goes. Day +1 is much the same. Andi and I draw pictures for her and she is a bit perkier, nibbling at her food and drinking. Watching her do that makes us happy. Who would’ve known a year ago that me sitting in a hospital and watching a little kid eat like a bird would make me happier than winning the World Cup?

  Day +2 and Day +3 are equally good. Andi and I are getting comfortable with things. We even go back to the hotel, leaving Violet with the grandmothers so we can take long, leisurely showers.

  But Day +7 is when the shit hits the fan and she starts running a low-grade fever and gets a rash. Both of our spirits crash because we had been so positive she was out of the woods, which had clearly been stupid on our parts. This is only the very beginning and she has weeks, even months to go before that happens.

  Forty-Three

  Andi

  Panic sets in like an old friend. I feel like I can’t breathe as I stroke Violet’s head and pray to the man upstairs that it’s nothing when it’s anything but.

  I recognize the look on the nurse’s face when she comes in to get Violet’s vitals. It’s too kind, like she knows a secret but can’t be the one to break it to the family. I remember wearing that face many times in the NICU.

  “This can be normal. We’ve alerted the doctor. He’ll be down as soon as he can.”

  The worry on her face tells a different story.

  Chase is voicing his displeasure and I place a hand on his arm to stop him. I shake my head when he looks at me. Though he’s frustrated beyond measure, he silences his protest.

  When she leaves, I say, “Violet isn’t the doctor’s only patient. It’s just a low-grade fever.”

  I take his hand in mine and squeeze. When he draws me in a hug, I take a moment to let the mask on my face drop and breathe in his scent.

  “I can’t lose her,” Chase says.

  It frightens me to the core. He’s been the strong one, keeping the Team Wilde mantra going when I had moments of weakness.

  “You won’t,” I say, meaning it like I can trade my life for hers.

  The truth is, I’d planned to pray to anyone listening for just that. This man above anyone deserves the time I stole from him.

  “Mama.”

  Violet’s voice is weak and I leave Chase’s comfort to give it to our daughter.

  She’s asleep when the doctor finally comes in, which feels like hours later.

  “I’ll be honest with you. The fever is concerning.” Duh, I want to scream, but it would disturb our little girl. Chase must sense it, but he wraps a protective arm around me. “It may not be anything more than a minor reaction to the marrow or the drug we administered. I’m going to change the drug and see if that helps before we jump to any conclusions.”

  We nod and he leaves as silently as he arrived.

  “You should go to the hotel,” Chase suggests.

  “No, I can’t leave.” Though I’m ripe for the picking and need a shower in the worst way, I can’t leave yet. “But you should,” I say.

  In the end, we tough it out, neither of us speaking, lost in our thoughts in separate chairs. We are both on edge and a divide begins to form between us, or maybe it’s just me imagining it.

  I miss his touch and stare at him from what feels like miles away. Finally, he looks at me.

  As if in slow motion, his hand rises and a finger points at me. “This is your fault. You did this.”

  All the air is sucked from my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. I’m trying to say his name when I’m jolted awake.

  “I’m here,” Chase says.

  And he is. His eyes are kind and not the accusing ones from the nightmare I had experienced. I pull him close, needing his warmth to wash away the dream that was so real.

  “Violet’s fine. Her fever is gone.”

  “What?” I separate us and glance at my daughter’s sleeping form. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  I blink away that realization.

  “Chase, I’m—”

  His hand is on my lips. “You need rest.” When I glare at him, he adds, “We both do. Our moms have spoken. They are sending us to the hotel—” He lifts a finger to his lips and I suck in the words I’d been about to say. “—Just for a few hours.”

  I lift my head and spot both of our mothers outside the glass. Mom’s eyebrow lifts in that stern way that brooks no argument.

  “Fine, I could use a shower, but I’m not staying long,” I say.

  “Agreed.”

  We ditch our gear after warning them to contact us the moment Violet wakes or any sign of the smallest of problems.

  Though guilt weighs upon me, I reluctantly leave, remembering the many times I’ve had to shoo parents away. We need a recharge, I tell myself.

  As soon as we are in the hotel, I’m determined to get in and out.

  “I’ll shower first,” I say over my shoulder, studiously ignoring the be
d.

  I rip off my clothes, flinging them to the floor as I walk. The bath isn’t huge. I head straight for the walk-in shower, holding the glass as I reach for the knob. I’m turning the water on when a warm body presses to my back.

  He spins me around and he’s just as naked.

  “Chase—”

  “Taking one together will save time.”

  And he’s right. When his mouth crashes down on mine, all the demons that have been whispering in my ear that he hates me disappear.

  I gasp as he steps me back into the tepid spray. Though the water is cool, his feverish kiss has set all my nerve endings on fire. It’s been weeks of not a touch between us, and it’s this connection that reminds me of how much I need him this way.

  He crushes me against the tile wall as warmer water rains down on us.

  “I need you,” he says, just as he hikes me up, my back sliding up the wall.

  “Please,” I beg, not needing to be primed.

  I’m wet and ready in more ways than one. His lips leave mine and glide down my neck to that spot that causes me to squirm.

  I feel the heavy weight of his cock pressed between us as his mouth finds one of my breasts.

  “Now,” I cry out. “Now.”

  Then it’s there probing my entrance, and when he slams home, I feel almost virginal it’s been so long.

  He stills, his head buried in my neck, breathing hard.

  “Damn, you’re tight.”

  It’s true and I feel every inch of him as my body adjusts to his presence.

  He teases me by pulling out devilishly slow, before just as patiently sliding back in.

  “You’re killing me,” I complain.

  I’m held up, gripped in his hold, unable to move on my own above a wiggle, which I do.

  “Stop.” His voice is gritty like his jaw is tightly clenched. “Or it will be over before it begins.”

  I freeze because I’m close, but not that close, and I want this as much as he does.

  He bucks his hips, once then twice before gliding into a rhythm that has my pulse rising. It’s hard and fast and everything we both need. I cry out as I spasm around him and he pulses inside me.

  It’s true what they say about sex. I’d been tired and cranky when I walked into the bathroom. Every one of my muscles had been tense. Now, I feel like a noodle, loose and limber in his arms, breathing hard.

  “You’re mine,” he finally says. His voice bounces off the walls in a growl. “This is mine, and when Violet gets out, tell me you’ll walk down that aisle and make this official.”

  I giggle a little, dizzy post-sex. “Haven’t we already talked about this?”

  He’s not amused when he says, “I need you to say it again.”

  And I realize, much as I’ve been, he’s scared about our daughter too. I meet his wary stare. “I’m yours. I always have been. And when we take our daughter from this hospital and she’s well enough to participate in our small wedding—” I eye him. I’m not really interested in a huge wedding, just big enough for family and close friends. “—I will be your wife, something I’ve dreamed about since I was old enough.”

  His frown tips up into a smile. He lets me get to my feet where he worships me with soap and his hands. Just when I think I’m lathered up, head to toe, he rinses off my inner thighs and uses his tongue to make me scream his name. When he’s done, it’s my turn.

  I’m on my knees, his cock buried in my throat when he frees himself, tugs me to my feet, spins me around, and drives into me from behind. My pussy is slick from working him and he easily drives home. This time is longer, a little rougher, and every bit as pleasurable. His thrusts hit every magic button in my body and I have liftoff twice before he comes long and hard inside me.

  We are both panting and trying to steady ourselves when we hear not one, but both of our phones buzz from the other room.

  Forty-Four

  Chase

  We both scramble to grab towels and then run to answer our phones. Andi nearly crashes to the floor on the slippery tile, but I steady her with my hands on her hips. Water drips from both of us, but neither of us gives a damn. All we care about is what the news on the other end of those buzzing phones has for us.

  Andi is the first one to yell, “What is it? What’s happened?”

  I grab mine next and shout the same thing. Mom’s calm voice steadies my galloping heart rate.

  “Chase, honey, everything’s fine. Take a deep breath. I’m only calling to let you know Violet’s awake and grinning. She’s even asking to eat.”

  “What?” I shout.

  “Honey, if you don’t stop yelling, I’m going to need a hearing aid. I said your daughter appears to be feeling much better. I thought you would want to know.”

  My ass hits the bed because my legs basically give out. All the tension instantly drains out of me, leaving me as weak as a baby bird. I’m so choked up I can’t speak.

  “Chase? Honey, are you still there?”

  Clearing my throat, it takes a few deep breaths before I can respond. “Yeah, Mom, I’m here. It’s just that’s such great news. Such a relief, you know?” My entire body is trembling and I can’t figure out why. I glance across the room and see that Andi is crying. I want to go over and hug her, but I’m too weak to get up at this time.

  “Chase, Violet wants to talk to you now.”

  “Yeah, that’s good.” I’m dimly aware of what’s happening. What’s wrong with me?

  “Dada. I hungy.” I hear her giggle after she says that.

  “That’s great, sweetie. Is your nana going to get you something to eat?”

  “Popsicle.”

  “A Popsicle?”

  “And waffle.”

  “That sounds exactly like something you’d eat.” I laugh at her choice of a meal and then realize the weird sensations in my body are easing up. “Make sure you eat the waffle before the Popsicle, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “And Mama and I will be back soon.”

  Mom’s voice hits my ear. “Chase, you and Andi need to sleep. You don’t sound normal to me. I think you’ve hit the wall and you’ll be no good to anyone, especially Violet, if you don’t rest. The last thing we need is for you and Andi to get sick too.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Now get some rest.”

  “I will.” We end the call and I think maybe she’s right. I’m feeling a little better, but for a minute there I was in the crash zone.

  “Chase.”

  I hear Andi calling me. I stand up, and on wobbly legs, walk to her where she sits in a chair.

  “Come to bed with me. We need sleep.”

  “She’s good, right?”

  “Yeah. She’s going to have a waffle and a Popsicle.” I laugh. It’s with relief as much as humor. Andi stands and I notice she’s as weak as I am.

  “Look at us. This is definitely a sign we need sleep. Mom made a good point. We’re both near the point of exhaustion. If we don’t take care of ourselves, we won’t be able to take care of our daughter.”

  Andi grabs my hand. “Yes. Let’s sleep and then go back. Make sure our phones are on, though.”

  “They are.” We climb into the bed and I turn off the light. The blackout curtains are drawn and I put the Do Not Disturb sign out when we came in. Hopefully, we can catch a few hours and then go back to the hospital to relieve our moms.

  * * *

  When I stretch, every muscle is tight as though it hasn’t been moved for a week. Sitting in a chair in that hospital is harder on a body than a grueling practice on a football field. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I notice that Andi is still breathing softly. I slip out of bed, not wanting to disturb her. She needs this time, and even though we’ve only been asleep for probably a few hours, I want to let her get as much as she needs. I grab my phone to check the time and then take a second look. We went to sleep at four in the afternoon. It’s now noon. Noon of the following day! We almost slept around the clock. About
that time, my stomach lets out a gigantic roar. No damn wonder. We haven’t eaten in an entire day. How the hell did we sleep this long?

  I trudge into the bathroom on stiff legs, and pee, and pee, and pee. Jesus, how did I hold it for this long? We must’ve been in a coma.

  I decide to take a shower and then run down and grab some food for us. As I’m showering, a thought plows into me. Our daughter’s beautiful curls have all fallen out due to the potent chemo they had to give her before the bone marrow transplant. To show her my support, I’m going to shave my head. I grab my electric shaver and go to town. It takes longer than I thought, as my hair is as thick as a damn hedge. When I’m done, I check it out with a mirror to ensure I didn’t miss any spots and don’t look like some weird animal. Then I shower. As I’m getting dressed, Andi lifts up her head.

  “What the hell, Chase! What happened to your hair?”

  “Nothing, other than I’m supporting our daughter. By the time mine grows back, so will hers.”

  “Oh, my God.” Her hand covers her mouth. “Come here.” Then her arms are around me, holding me tight. “That’s the sweetest, kindest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s nothing really. Just a shaved head, babe.”

  She’s still hugging me when she asks, “You do realize it will take hers longer to grow back than yours? Yours is just shaved, but hers is pretty much destroyed down to the follicle. And where are you going? Did something happen?”

  Chuckling, I say, “Nothing, other than we both slept like lazy dogs. I’m running down to grab us some coffees and a bite to eat.”

  “Oh? What time is it?”

  This time I laugh. Super hard. “It’s noon.”

  “Okay.” She releases me and plops back down, but then springs up like a jack-in-the-box. “What the fuck! Noon! How the hell did we sleep that long?”

  “Must’ve been bone weary. Why don’t you shower and I’ll have food by the time you’re out?”

  “Ugh, I’m so lazy now.”