Woman on the Edge(6)

Love her for me, Morgan.

“It’s impossible,” I say out loud.

The officer doesn’t hear me over the chaos and yelling and directions being shouted at everyone.

I taste my fear, metallic and cold, swirling in my mouth. My steps are heavy as I trail behind the officer through Grand/State, past the traumatized onlookers, past the tracks, my head bowed because it feels like everyone is watching me. But it’s a feeling I’ve grown used to since Ryan left me the way he did. I’m Ryan Galloway’s widow. The wife of a thief and a suicidal coward. Now I’m the last woman another suicide victim spoke to. The person she begged to help her.

I pull my battered black purse closer to my chest. Then I notice something purple stuck to one side.

It’s a Post-it note. I didn’t put it there. I slip my hand over it and curl it into my palm. The officer leads the way up a flight of stairs. I stop and wait as he clears the mobs of people so I can follow. While he’s distracted, I turn the paper over in my hand. On it, in large loopy script I don’t recognize, one word is written, a name.

Amanda.





CHAPTER FOUR NICOLE




Before

A fierce contraction tore through Nicole’s lower back. On her hands and knees on the plush, private hospital bed, she again refused the epidural the nurse and Greg kept urging her to have. For four years, she’d gotten through every panic attack, even the most recent ones, with no medication. Because of Tessa. She would deliver her baby into this world drug-free.

“She doesn’t want drugs. I promise we can help her through it. Put your hand here on the small of her back.” Tessa kneeled beside her on the left side of the bed. Greg stood to her right.

Nicole felt the heel of Greg’s large palm dig into the exact spot of her most excruciating cramp. She breathed out on a moan.

“You’ve got this.” Tessa wiped the sweat from Nicole’s forehead.

Greg’s hand stilled. “You’re in so much pain, Nic. Are you sure you want to do this? There’s no shame if you change your mind and need meds.”

Nicole turned her head to her husband, grimacing. “It’s supposed to hurt.” She wanted it to hurt. She wanted to feel every moment of her labor.

This was her family. Greg and Tessa were both here with her, supporting her. She could do this.

As another spasm seized her, she breathed in and out five times, like Tessa always told her to, focusing on the agonizing wave of torture until it faded.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you two,” she managed when the pain subsided a little.

Nicole reached for Tessa’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you want, but don’t break my bones!” Tessa joked.

“Here.” Greg slipped his fingers into Nicole’s. “Squeeze with all your might.”

The moment of calm was interrupted by a loud, frenzied beeping. A team of nurses rushed in, jabbing the fetal monitor above the bed and pushing Greg and Tessa out of the way.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong with my baby?” Nicole frantically gulped air. Her lungs compressed.

“Your baby’s heart rate is plummeting. Everything is going to be fine, but you need an emergency C-section.”

She struggled to understand.

“What’s going on? Is my wife going to be okay?” Greg’s voice was panicked, not his usual affable tone, which frightened Nicole even more. She was the one who panicked, not him. He was the calm one. He was her rock.

“She’ll be fine, but we need to get her to surgery. Please, we need to do this right now.”

Tessa marched back to Nicole’s side. “She doesn’t want a C-section. That’s not the plan!”

“Please, Tessa. Listen to them,” Greg said. “It’s okay.”

Nicole caught sight of her husband’s face. What she saw sucked any remaining oxygen from her lungs. He looked … hopeful. Like perhaps it would be a good thing if he didn’t become a father today. Or any day. No, it wasn’t possible. It was ridiculous. She was in pain, in agony, and she was seeing things that weren’t there. She was sure she imagined it, because just a moment later, he was beside her and sweetly kissed her forehead. “I love you, Nic. It’s going to be fine. I’m not leaving your side.”

She couldn’t do or say anything else because a mask was placed over her face. Nicole was unconscious before she could ask if her daughter was going to survive.



* * *




The sharp odor of antiseptic filled Nicole’s nostrils. She tried to sit up. Numb from the chest down, she couldn’t move, so she groped around on the bed for anything that could leverage her. Something hard and cold was placed under her chin and she vomited.

“Nausea from the anesthesia. It will wear off. I’ll put an anti-nausea in your drip, so you don’t throw up again,” a soft voice said.

She moved her head to the side and saw a woman in pink scrubs smiling kindly at her. And that was when it all came back to her, why she was there, what was going on.

“My baby. How’s my baby? Is she—”

The nurse grinned. “She’s fine. She’s just fine.” Then she wheeled a clear bassinet close to the bed. A tiny infant with wisps of dark hair lay sleeping on her back. Her paper-thin eyelids fluttered. Nicole couldn’t believe this delicate, perfect baby was hers.