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Beacon

Page 3

by Michelle Irwin


  “We’ve hit five.”

  The words were three bullets fired from a gun straight into my heart.

  The world stopped.

  I fell into the chair beside her bed.

  It was everythin’ I’d been dreadin’. Everything I’d been hopin’ to never hear. Even though I’d been certain her collapse had somethin’ to do with her kidneys, I’d hoped it was somethin’ different this time. Somethin’ unrelated and fixable. A touch of dehydration, or somethin’ else.

  “What—” I cut off as tears burned my eyes. Was I gonna lose her? “What’re our options now?”

  “Options?”

  “What’re ya doin’ to get better? Have they started ya on dialysis? Are they talkin’ ’bout another transplant? What’s goin’ on? How is this gettin’ fixed? When?” The questions kept spillin’ from me one after the other without pause.

  She stared at me but looked everywhere except my eyes.

  “What is it, darlin’?”

  “There’s more to it than that. Something else has happened.”

  I wanted to demand to know what she meant.

  “The doctors have told me that it’ll be too much for my body to cope with and that I shouldn’t fight. But I need to fight for this, Beau. They don’t understand, but I know you will.”

  Blinkin’ at her, I tried to piece together the direction of her words.

  “They’ve warned me that if nothing changes, I might not see my next birthday—”

  All of the oxygen in the room evaporated in an instant. An explosion of pain radiated through me. It was almost worse than the worst-case scenarios that’d been runnin’ through my head since the phone call. “W-what? What needs to change?”

  “No. You don’t understand. I can’t . . . I won’t change this. I have to do this.”

  “What’re ya talkin’ about, darlin’. Tell me what’s happenin’, please?”

  “I don’t know how to say this without you getting upset, but if you listen to me, you’ll understand.”

  “Start from the beginnin’. What happened?”

  “I passed out. I’ve been getting dizzy for a while, and I wasn’t trying to ignore it, but I guess I didn’t notice it was getting worse. The failure was so severe and fast, the doctors are going to put me on dialysis straight away.”

  I nodded. Dialysis could keep her alive for years. The research I’d read said as much. So why . . .

  Why won’t she see her next birthday?

  Bile rose in my throat as the thought of losin’ her settled over me. It wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t. I musta been misunderstandin’ somethin’. “Have ya talked about your options for a transplant?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Ya got a list of donors a mile long.”

  She frowned at me. “Because I won’t risk anyone else’s life. Even if I could, I can’t right now.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It ain’t gonna be riskin’ their lives.”

  “They’ll be giving up a kidney, that’s not without some risk.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Plus, it means surgery, and there’s always a risk in surgery.”

  “Well, ya can’t stop me from gettin’ tested. Or Angel. Or your folks. We’d all do whatever we can to keep ya safe.”

  She flinched away from the word, and I kicked myself for usin’ it. Xavier had promised to keep her safe too. I was failin’ her even as I tried to save her. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “Ya ain’t askin’.”

  “Still. I won’t put any of you through that. Besides—”

  “Then go on the donor list. If you’re at stage five, they’ve gotta put ya on the list.”

  She sighed. “They won’t. Not now.”

  She seemed so goddamned resigned to the situation. As though it was a foregone conclusion that she would die.

  I jumped to my feet to stand at her bedside and held my hand out in offerin’ to her, desperate for her touch, hopin’ it would soothe away the pain. If only she could tell me it was all a misunderstandin’. “Give me one dang reason why not. Why won’t they do anythin’ and everythin’ to save your life?”

  “Because I can’t have a transplant even if I had a willing donor.” Her voice rose with every word she said, and her agitation only grew.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m pregnant.”

  CHAPTER THREE: GREATEST WISH

  “WHAT?”

  SHE SIGHED and rubbed her hand over her forehead. “I didn’t want to tell you about the baby like this,” she said. “I wanted to take my time and have it be a happy reveal away from the crap of my kidneys failing, but you had to push it.” She screwed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. As though someone had flicked a switch inside of her when she opened her eyes again, her gaze softened, and she smiled as she reached for me. “I’m pregnant, Beau.”

  Just like the last time I’d found out she was with child, my breath left my body, and my knees buckled. I sat on her bed, facin’ her to stop myself from fallin’. That sort of news should be joyful, but it wasn’t. It was a knife to my heart. She smiled so serenely. As though it really was the happiest thing in the world, and for her, it mighta been. But it was also the reason she couldn’t have a transplant.

  The reason she might die before her twenty-fourth birthday.

  “Say something, Beau. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

  I clenched my jaw and stared at her. “You’re worried about me passin’ out? Are ya kiddin’ me? Ya just tol’ me there’s a good chance ya won’t see your next birthday and that you’re pregnant and yet you’re worried about me?”

  “Yeah, of course, I’m worried about you. I know where things are at for me right now. It’s you that I’m worried about.”

  “If ya were really worried about me, you’d be doin’ whatever it takes to get a goddamned transplant.” I couldn’t help the words that rolled off my tongue. They were the product of my deepest desires, and even though I knew they’d hurt her, I couldn’t stop them.

  She turned away from me, glancin’ at the window rather than meetin’ my gaze. “Don’t be like that. This is what I want.”

  “You wanna die?”

  “No. Of course not.” Shifting her gaze back to me, she curled her hand over my cheek and used her eyes to implore me to understand. “But I won’t fail our baby. Not again.”

  A baby who’d steal its mama away from me.

  It was no wonder the doctors were concerned about Phoebe. Not only was she sufferin’ with renal failure, but she was also subjectin’ her body to the stress of pregnancy on top of that. How could she hope to survive it?

  “Darlin’, you can give up the baby and try ag’in when you’re healthy.” I could barely believe I was sayin’ the words. It’d never been something I’d have been okay with before, but faced with the choice between a baby I didn’t know and my wife—the person I loved more than anything in the world—it wasn’t a choice.

  “I thought you’d understand. There might not be a healthy for me anymore. Even if I had . . . could . . . if I got rid of . . .” She heaved a sigh. “Even if I can have a transplant, there’s no guarantee my body won’t reject it. This might be my one and only chance to have children again. I didn’t even think it was possible this time. Not after the issues we had. That’s why I haven’t been on the pill for years.”

  I pushed away from the bed as my tears grew thick and my heart grew heavy.

  “How can you do this to me?” I asked when I spun back around. “Do you want to leave me?”

  Tears wet her lashes. “It’s because of you I’m doing this. Because of us. Our baby. Your future. That’s what this little miracle is. I’ve been living on borrowed time for twenty-three years, Beau. Maybe it’s time for me to pay it forward. Maybe I can’t expect another miracle for me, but you can be certain I’ll make one for this little one.”

  Trailin’ my hands through my hair, I wanted to tear it out. Wanted to tear the room apart. How could she
be so goddamned calm when talkin’ about her passin’? “Why are you so dang ready to give up and die?”

  She shook her head and tears flooded from her cheeks. “I’m not willing to give up. I just know there’s something more important than my own life that I’m fighting for now. You didn’t go through what I did, Beau. You didn’t hold our child in your hands, tiny but almost perfectly formed.” All traces of the smile she’d worn as she’d told me about her newest pregnancy was swept away by the memory. “I will have this baby if it kills me.”

  “And it just might,” I spat out before twistin’ away and leavin’ the room before I could say anything worse.

  Tryin’ to shake the frustration I felt, at Phoebe and at the situation, I paced the length of the corridor in the ward a couple of times. As I went, I breathed through my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. I wouldn’t let more tears fall.

  Midway through my next loop, I stopped. What was I doin’?

  Why wasn’t I at Phoebe’s side?

  She’d just finished tellin’ me the doctors didn’t expect her to see her next birthday and I’d walked away from her. Why was I not takin’ every second I could with her? I raced back to her room and froze in the doorway when I saw her.

  She was cryin’ and starin’ at her hands. Her gaze lifted to find mine when she heard me enter.

  “I’m sorry, Beau,” she said through a voice racked with sobs. “I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m really not. I just can’t fail this little one the way I did our first baby.”

  I already knew there was no point arguing with her about whether or not she’d failed our child. She would always blame herself, and I would always blame the men who’d stolen and beaten her. How could anyone have kept a baby safe under the circumstances she’d lived through? I was just thankful every damn day that she’d made it out of there alive. It coulda easily gone the other way, and Xavier’s intentions coulda been carried through. He coulda killed her.

  Still, the death of our baby was a guilt Phoebe had carried with her ever since the day it had happened and one she wasn’t gonna shake anytime soon, no matter what I said.

  “I understand,” I said. I didn’t, but for her, I was willing to try to.

  The look she gave me confirmed she saw straight through my lie before she swept away her tears. “I’ll bet you wish you’d just let me ride off into the night back when we first met, don’t you?”

  I shook my head. “No, darlin’. Never. Whatever happens, I’ve got only one regret. And that’s the time we were apart.” I didn’t need to elaborate whether I meant the time we’d been with other people or the time she’d been stolen away. Because it was all of it. It was always all of it. “And that no matter how much time we’ve got left, it won’t ever be enough.”

  “Please don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded.

  “I ain’t mad,” I said. Mostly it was the truth. There was part of me that felt she was givin’ up too early. Not fightin’ hard enough to stay for us.

  For me.

  “So we’re really havin’ a baby,” I said, tryin’ ta move past the elephant in the room.

  “Yeah. I can’t wait to meet him. Or her.”

  “Me either, darlin’,” I said. It wasn’t entirely accurate. Part of me wondered whether I’d resent our child for takin’ away my wife, even as I was certain I would love our baby completely because it came from Phoebe. “Me either.”

  I reached for her hand and held it between my own, bringing them up to my forehead. We sat like that for almost an hour, barely saying a word before Angel came back in. “How is everything?”

  Phoebe looked to me. “Should I tell her the happy news?”

  Bile twisted in my stomach. After what she’d said to me, I still didn’t see much happy about it. Sure, Phoebe’s dream was comin’ true, and I could find somethin’ to celebrate in that if I tried. From what she’d said though, she was doin’ it against the doctors’ orders.

  Angel’s gaze cut to me, her confusion evident. I couldn’t meet her eyes. If Phoebe wanted to share, she could be the one to tell Angel what the end result of her pregnancy would be.

  Phoebe bit her lip, fightin’ her smile, and practically bounced in place on the bed as she said, “I’m pregnant. That’s why I collapsed.”

  “Oh my God! Pheebs, that’s awesome.”

  I clenched my jaw and turned my head to stare at the wall behind Phoebe. There was no way I could meet Angel’s gaze while she was celebratin’ a falsehood.

  Angel seemed to pick up on my irritation. “What is it?”

  Phoebe’s smile fell, and she turned her gaze to me. She swallowed and reached for me.

  “Phoebe’s gonna die to have the baby.” The words left me when Phoebe didn’t respond to Angel’s question.

  Phoebe’s hand dropped back onto the bed, and she turned to stare out the window as she sighed.

  My stomach twisted. I hadn’t intended to hurt her, but I still didn’t know how to process her news. The joy would come. Maybe if I kept tellin’ myself that I would believe it.

  “What?” Angel charged closer to us. “What is he talking about, Phoebe?”

  I placed my hands on Phoebe’s hospital bed and rested my forehead on top.

  “The extra pressure on my body, well, it’s already caused things to get worse. I’m at stage five now.” As she spoke, Phoebe’s fingertips brushed through my hair, and I reached up to grab it before pressing it against my cheek.

  “No.” Angel’s voice was terror struck. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not getting rid of the baby.” Phoebe almost growled the words. I wondered how many times she’d had the suggestion leveled at her—even by me—and my heart ached for her. This had been what she’d wanted for so long, something denied to her by tragedy and circumstance. Could I really deny her happiness now that it had finally happened for her?

  Even if it cost me everythin’ I needed.

  “Is that what the doctors have said you should do?” Angel asked.

  Phoebe started to sob, and I lifted my head. Our gazes locked and she gave me a look that grounded everythin’ in me. Once more, I reminded myself that the best I could do, for myself and for Phoebe, was to support her decisions even if I didn’t agree with them.

  If I pushed her to give up our baby, it would kill her just as fast. In my mind’s eye, I could see the way that choice would play out. Day by day, she’d die inside. The pieces of her that loved me would whither away. She’d be alive, but not livin’, and it would be my fault.

  “We’re gonna do everythin’ we can to ensure our baby is safe,” I said, reachin’ out to cup her cheek. “And then we’re gonna do everythin’ possible to make Phoebe healthy again, ain’t that right, darlin’?”

  As she nodded, Phoebe’s smile grew even as tears spilled from her eyes and down her cheek.

  “I can get on board with that,” Angel said, findin’ her place on the other side of Phoebe’s bed. “What needs to happen? You asked for the overnight bag, how long are you in here for?”

  “They’re coming to get me soon to have an ultrasound to check everything is okay with the baby. Then the doctors want me to stay for a few days so they can start dialysis through a cannula. Then we’re going to look at the options for home dialysis, which will probably mean some surgery and a bit of back and forth. I’ll need to pick a dialysis supporter who’ll need to get trained in helping me hook up to the machine.”

  I tried not to let my emotions show on my face as she spoke about the treatment options.

  “When are ya gonna tell your mama and daddy?” I asked.

  “They’re due to come up tonight. I guess I’ll tell them then.”

  “Ya don’t wanna wait just in case . . .?”

  She dropped her gaze to her lap. “It’s crossed my mind. I mean, I failed our baby last time, but I think they need to know anyway. Even if something happens and I lose the baby, I’ll need their support as much as I need you guys. I-I don’t know if I’d survive it
.”

  “Ya would, darlin’, you’re stronger than ya give yourself credit for, but we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  We talked for a while before an orderly came in to collect Phoebe for her ultrasound. Angel volunteered to get some food for us.

  I didn’t get a chance to offer to go with either of them before Phoebe grabbed my hand and told the orderly I’d be going along with her.

  It took everythin’ in me not to demand to take control as the orderly wheeled Phoebe down the hall toward radiology. Instead, I walked a few steps behind them and considered everythin’ that was happenin’. Just like the last time things had changed, when she’d grown sick a little more than three years ago, it happened so fast and didn’t allow me the time to process things.

  I helped Phoebe get into position on the ultrasound bed and sat beside her, holdin’ her hand for support. When a radiologist entered the room, she gave Phoebe and me a smile. I wondered whether perhaps she didn’t know all the details and just assumed she was doin’ a regular pregnancy scan.

  “Do you know how far along you are?” she asked Phoebe.

  “My cycle hasn’t been regular for years, so it’s anyone’s guess.”

  The sonographer made some notes and asked Phoebe some other questions, includin’ whether she’d be okay with an internal ultrasound if necessary, before finishin’ up with the question, “Are you ready to see your baby?”

  Phoebe nodded. “I can’t wait.”

  After spreading the gel over Phoebe’s belly, the sonographer moved the ultrasound wand through it. She took a few moments and a few swipes without sayin’ anythin’. My heart sat in my throat as I wondered whether somethin’ was wrong. Was that the reason for the silence? Slowly though, it became clear that she was checkin’ somethin’ and she didn’t seem upset.

  “This is your first scan, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it is. I didn’t know I was pregnant until yesterday.”

  “Well, I can tell you that you’re around eleven weeks.”

 

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