Stay With Me(31)

Cat,

I love you. God, I want to see you so badly, but I understand why you don’t want to see me. I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes. I’ll be here when you’re ready to go home. Take care of yourself and our baby.

Rhy

Over and over she read those words, wrapped them around her. She’d never felt so alone in her life, and yet she knew they were just outside. The nurses had told her that they’d come every day and just sat. Waiting.

She smoothed a hand over her belly, careful of her healing incisions. The doctor had assured her that all looked well with her pregnancy, but lingering fear gripped her. She didn’t have words for the terror of waking in a strange bed, of faint, drug-masked pain in her abdomen, and the thought that in one terrible moment, her child had been taken.

Mindful of the doctor’s caution about getting upset, she tempered her thoughts and settled on more bland images. No, she wouldn’t allow them to risk her child by upsetting her. They’d taken far too much already. Her love. Her hopes. Her happiness.

They wouldn’t get an outburst from her. No emotion. No pain. She was through begging for something they couldn’t give.

She looked up when the door opened, almost fearful that Logan and Rhys would disregard her wishes and come inside. Relief came quickly when she saw the nurse enter.

“The doctor says you can go home today. Are you ready for that?” she asked softly.

Catherine held her breath. Was she? She knew she’d have to face them when she was discharged. She didn’t have another place to go and couldn’t do so even if she did. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to allow them to take her home and take care of her until she was completely well.

Slowly, she nodded.

The nurse squeezed her hand comfortingly. “Your obstetrician will be up to see you one more time before you go. He’ll want to see you regularly in the next few weeks to monitor the baby’s progress. You’ll have a follow-up with your surgeon in two weeks. In the meantime, you’re to get plenty of rest, drink plenty of fluids, eat and take it easy. No stress.”

No stress. She was one big ball of stress even if she was working damn hard to radiate calm.

“Okay then, I’ll take out your IV and help you shower if you like, or you can wait until you get home. Completely up to you. After your OB sees you, I’ll be back to give you your paperwork and prescriptions, and then you’re free to go.”

“Thank you,” Catherine said.

“You’re welcome,” the nurse said with a smile. “Now, let’s get you ready to go, shall we?”

***

Rhys paced the hallway as he waited for Catherine to come out. The nurse had pushed a wheelchair in her room fifteen minutes ago, and still he and Logan waited.

Logan was no better off than he was. He stood opposite Catherine’s door, his stance tense with expectation.

Then the door opened and the nurse backed out of the room, pulling Catherine in the wheelchair. When she turned Catherine around, Rhys’ breath left his chest.

She looked small, huddled in the wheelchair, deep shadows under her eyes. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and she stared up at him, no emotion reflected.

“Cat,” he whispered as he fell to one knee beside the wheelchair.

He reached out and touched her cheek. She didn’t react, but her gaze followed him.

“Are you okay? Are you hurting? How is the baby?”

There. The tiniest flicker of feeling.

“The baby is fine,” she said huskily.

He took her hand in his, uncurled her fingers and kissed her palm. “Thank God.” He looked back up at her. “Are you ready to go home? The car is waiting downstairs.”

She gave a small nod, and Rhys stood. She turned her head to look at Logan, who still hadn’t said anything. His eyes were haunted. There was so much regret for the world to see that it made Rhys uncomfortable.

“I’ll take her from here,” Logan said politely to the nurse.

As he walked behind the wheelchair to grasp the handles, his hand brushed over Catherine’s shoulder and lingered there for a moment before he started forward.

The entire way down, the silence was heavy. Stifling. A thousand questions stampeded Rhys’ mind. But he held back. Talk was cheap. The time for talking was past. It was up to him and Logan to show her that they couldn’t—wouldn’t—live without her.

When they arrived at the car, the driver hurried out to open the door. Rhys bent over Catherine.

“Do you want me to help you into the car or would you prefer I carry you? I don’t want to hurt you, so you tell me what you need me to do.”

“Don’t pull me,” she murmured. “Let me pull against you. I’ll walk.”

As Logan held the wheelchair still, Rhys stretched his arm out and held it rigid as her small hand circled his wrist. Her face tightened, and she paled as she strained upward. Logan cursed and put one hand to her back to hold her steady.

When she was upright, Rhys stood there for a moment to let her catch her breath.

“Hurts,” she gritted out.

“I know, love. I’m sorry. As soon as we get you home, we’ll make you comfortable, I promise.”

He smoothed her hair away from her face, a face that seemed so much thinner than it had just a few days ago. With slow, small steps, she headed for the open door.