The sterile scent of the hospital hit Ryan as he rushed through the double doors. His heart pounded in his chest as he followed the nurse’s directions to Brenda’s room.
Brenda lay on the hospital bed, her face pale and glistening with sweat. She gripped the sheet tightly, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her eyes lit up with a mix of desperation and relief when she saw Ryan.
“You came,” she whispered, her voice raw.
“What’s going on?” Ryan demanded, turning to the doctor standing at the foot of the bed.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and sighed. “We’re monitoring for signs of placental abruption. It’s a serious condition that could endanger both the mother and the baby. She’ll need to stay under observation, and if things worsen, we may have to deliver prematurely.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened as he processed the information. “Do whatever you need to do to keep them safe,” he said firmly.
Brenda reached out, clutching his hand. “Ryan, I can’t do this alone,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Please, don’t leave me.”
Her grip was iron, her vulnerability palpable. Ryan glanced down at their joined hands, torn between his obligation to her and the lingering feelings for Amelia that weighed heavily on his mind.
“I’m here,” he said finally, his voice steady even as his thoughts wavered. “You’re not alone.”
The hours dragged as Ryan sat at Brenda’s side, her fear manifesting in shaky breaths and whispered pleas. “What if something happens to the baby? What if I can’t do this?” she asked, tears streaming down her face.
Ryan squeezed her hand, his tone firm. “You’re stronger than you think, Brenda. The doctors are doing everything they can.”
But even as he spoke, his mind drifted to Amelia. Her laughter, the way her eyes softened when she talked about the twins—her presence was a balm he desperately needed.
Brenda’s voice pulled him back to the moment. “Ryan?”
“Yeah?”
She looked at him, her expression fragile. “Thank you for being here.”
Ryan nodded, guilt swirling in his chest. He glanced at the clock, each passing minute a reminder of the life he was trying to piece back together—and the one that seemed to be slipping through his fingers.