One Baby Daddy (Dating by Numbers #3)(112)

I stop him and sincerely say, “You don’t know how much that means to me. Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome. And just so you know, we have a strict policy about patient confidentiality. You shouldn’t hear about this in the papers tomorrow.”

This guy and this hospital is getting one hell of a donation from me when this is all over, when Adalyn is back in my arms, healthy and smiling that beautiful smile once again.

The door opens to a dimly lit room, two beeping monitors flank the bed and in the middle, Adalyn lies silently on the bed. Her head is wrapped in gauze, her wrist is secured in white bandaging tape, and her face is swollen from small abrasions. But she’s alive.

From behind, the doctor closes the door. With a heavy heart and lead feet, I make my way to the side of the bed and pull up a chair. Taking her hand in mine, I stroke her knuckles and brush the side of her cheek, avoiding any scrapes, not wanting to hurt her.

“Jesus, baby. Look at you.” Tears spill out of my eyes. “Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to trade places with you right now, to take away all this pain and make you the healthy one.” Moving my hand to her belly where our baby grows, I lightly stroke the sheets covering her up. “This little one is so strong. This little guy.” I choke on a sob. “He’s strong just like you, not like his daddy who is a blubbering mess.” Bending my head, I press a kiss against her stomach. “So strong.”

Staring at her battered face where I can see bruises forming, I squeeze my eyes shut, hating seeing her like this. When you fall in love, you never consider moments like this, where you have to sit at your soulmate’s bedside, and hope and pray they come back to you, wondering if you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life, missing out on all the moments you could have shared with them.

I knew I couldn’t live without Adalyn, I realized that the moment I had to move away from her, but I never thought living without her meant she would leave this earth.

Resting my head on her hand, trying to give her every ounce of strength I have in me, I say, “When you wake up from this, Adalyn, I’m going to make sure you never have to suffer again. This is it, baby, this is it for us. From here on out, it’s you and me and the baby. No more dancing around, no more questions about our relationship, no more distance. I love you and will spend every minute until my dying day making sure you know that.” I lift my head and kiss her knuckles. “Just get better, baby, just come back to me. Please come back to me . . .”

I hang up my phone and lean back in my chair, my eyes never leaving Adalyn. The Quakes have given me all the time I need off to be with Adalyn and the baby, making sure they’re okay. What is unfair about my profession is no matter what, my decision will let someone down. My team, the fans, the front office. But my heart is in this hospital, and I’ll be damned if I leave without it.

I might have fibbed a bit and said Adalyn was my fiancée, but to hell if that’s not going to happen the minute she gets better. I’m proposing, I’m making everything right between us, and it starts with the beginning of the rest of our lives.

All last night, while holding Adalyn’s hand, I researched comas and pregnancy. Let’s just say, that was a bad idea. After a few terrifying articles, I put my phone away and talked to my son.

I told him all about my game, about the goals I scored, unsure of what to talk to him about. I told him about how one day, I’ll be just like my father, strapped down in pillows and a helmet, blocking his shots at the goal. I told him he’ll be so much better than I am at hockey, because not only will he have my talent, but he’ll have his mommy’s bravery. Over and over again, I kept telling him to hang in there, to keep growing and be healthy, because he’s going to want to see how beautiful his mommy is. He’s going to want to get to know her because she’s one hell of a catch.

And when sleep finally captured me, I never left Adalyn’s bedside. I held her hand the entire time, resting my head on the side of her bed, my other hand holding on to her stomach, trying to give my girl and son every last ounce of power inside me.

With a fresh cup of coffee in hand and a donut in the other—courtesy of Logan who told me to screw my diet—I watch over Adalyn, studying her beautiful features. I spoke to her mom on the phone this morning. The brigade is catching the earliest flights they can find to get out here. I offered to pay for them, but her mom graciously declined, telling me to keep my money for when I get to spoil our little guy.

My phone buzzes on my lap and I shove the rest of my donut in my mouth before answering it.

Racer: How is she?

Sighing, I text Racer back.

Hayden: Still out.

Racer: Fuck, I was hoping she would snap out of it last night. The baby?

Hayden: He’s still strong.

Racer: He?

My throat closes up on me while I type.

Hayden: Yeah, he.

Racer: Shit, congrats, man.

Hayden: Thank you. He’s going to make it through this.

She has to as well. There is no way I can do this without her. Raise our son by myself? No, I need her by my side, her laughing and teasing eyes playing with both of us. I need her challenges, her ribbing, her love. Fuck, do I need her love.

Racer: Keep thinking positively, man. Are you sure you don’t need me to come out there?

What I wouldn’t give to have Racer by my side right now, but I know he’s still climbing out of debt and his schedule is jam-packed with his new construction company. There is no way I could ask him to come.