The Devil Gets His Due (The Devils #4)(87)

Ben’s hand lands on my shoulder, keeping me in place.

“A seizure,” I repeat.

She nods. “I’d like to tell you that she’s going to be okay, but…”

“But?” I ask weakly.

Her gaze meets mine. “I’m sorry. There’s no way to tell.”

I want to ask how bad things might be, but I already know. I already knew, simply from the worry on the staff’s faces.

“Can I see her?”

She isn’t meeting my eye. “Not yet,” she says. “They’re still finishing up. They’ll want to make sure she’s stable first.”

Julie returns to the nurses’ station, and Keeley’s father begins to cry, as if he already knows what’s going to happen. I just sit, feeling numb. All these responsibilities I once thought I didn’t want…now I’m not sure how I’ll continue to exist without them.

It feels like hours have passed by the time Dr. Asif appears, quietly conferring with Julie before turning to me. Her face is strained as I propel out of my seat and toward them.

“Congratulations,” she says. “You have a beautiful five-pound, nine-ounce baby girl.”

She pulls off her surgical cap and uses it to wipe her brow, her shoulders sagging.

“Keeley?” I can barely get the question out. “Is Keeley okay?”

“It was a close one,” she says, “but you still have a beautiful wife as well.”

Everyone cheers. All I can do is grip the counter as my knees threaten to buckle. For a minute there, I really saw the world the way Keeley has, for most of her life. It was terrifying.





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47





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KEELEY





When my eyes open, I’m in a recovery room, and Graham is beside me, his face planted on the mattress next to our linked fingers.

“Hey,” I whisper. My throat feels raw which I assume means I was on a vent. So I didn’t die, but I was perhaps not all that far from it.

He raises his head, pale and stone-faced, and my stomach drops. I was knocked out from the second I got into the OR and I have no idea what happened.

“The baby?” I whisper.

“She was in the NICU,” he says. His smile is wooden and forced. “But she’s fine.”

Our baby is fine, but he is not. He picks up the phone and calls the nurse, but even inches away I know he’s retreated somewhere I can’t reach him again. I don’t understand.

The nurse comes in and places our daughter in my arms. She has a head full of dark hair like Graham’s, and a sweet, pursed mouth that begins moving in her sleep. I’ve waited forever for this little girl. I didn’t even know I was waiting, but I know it now. I blink back tears as I press my lips to the top of her head. She is half of me and half of Graham and more perfect than I ever dreamed she could be.

“You’ve got friends waiting outside to see you when you’re ready,” the nurse says.

I glance at Graham. “Not just yet, okay?”

She nods and walks out. I pull my gown down and our little girl latches on like a champ. It’s all so perfect. All of it but Graham. I thought he’d be happy.

I trace the pad of my index finger over her soft cheek. “It can’t even taste that good,” I coo to her. “Just wait until I get ahold of some Hot Tamales.”

Graham’s head falls into his hands, his shoulders shaking, and for a moment I think he’s laughing until I realize he’s not.

“Hey.” I reach over and run my hand over his head. “Hey. Everything’s fine. What’s wrong?”

It takes him a second to answer. “You really scared me, Keeley,” he says, his voice rough. “You really fucking scared me.”

I find his hand. I worried I was too weak to do this. To be with someone, to be a mother. But he’ll keep me on course, and every once in a while, I’ll keep him on course too.

“It’s all okay now, Graham.”

He nods. “I know. I just…you weren’t waking up, and I…I’m just having a hard time shaking it off.”

He likes to be the practical one, the one who sees the world as it really is, and I like to be the dreamer, seeing the world as it could be. But today got a little too real for him, and I know exactly how to get us back to normal. “I want a wedding,” I tell him. “A big one. With a carriage. And doves.”

He scrubs his face and looks up at me, astonished for a moment, but then his mouth softens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And a parade. Like they have in New Orleans.”

His smile grows. “I’m not sure they could do that in LA.”

“I thought we could do it in Santorini. And then we’ll do our honeymoon on a murder mystery train.”

He laughs. “You’re just throwing in as much crazy shit as possible right now because you know I’ll agree. I guess that means you’re going to name her Kalamity too?”

“I was thinking about Delilah—”

“You realize that’s in the Bible—”

“Please don’t ruin this for me. Anyway, we’ll name her Delilah but we’ll call her Daisy.”