Shattered & Mended (21 page)

She doesn’t speak for a moment. She then says, barely above a whisper, “You should go. You’re not their daddy, Wyatt. You should just go.” 

How many times must I explain to her I’m not going anywhere? “Let’s not move in reverse. Baby, you know I’ll do anything you ask me to, but leaving you isn’t one of them. I’m not leaving, ever,” I promise. Blaine begins to cry, and she pulls her head back and tries to console her little man. 

Baylee’s beginning to stir in the incubator, so I stand to pick her up and snuggle her into my chest. “She looks like Lacy; then again, Lacy looks a lot like you,” I inform her, admiring the tiny bald beauty in my arm.

“Yeah, I realized that. How did it feel to finally see her?” she sniffs.

“Amazing. Her beauty’s breathtaking, much like her mother’s. Long curly hair, eyes so blue you could drown in them. A love like I can’t explain.” I bow my head to place a tender kiss on the side of Baylee’s warm, soft cheek. She seems to relax the more we interact.

“She’s gorgeous. And I’m not saying that because we made her
,
she is stunning. She’s won several pageants over her three years.” 

She smiles, her tears disappearing as she thinks about the little girl we created. 

“Have you seen her since the adoption was final?”

She motions for us to change the babies. I take Blaine from her arms and gently place Baylee into hers. “No. Mom said Dr. Ruben told her that I was welcome to see her, but there was no way I could look into her baby-doll face and not take her with me. I figured pictures were as close as I needed to be; they were safe.” The nurse rounds the corner and tells Allie it’s almost time for Baylee and Blaine’s feeding. She takes Blaine from Allie and hands her some machine with tubes, bottles, and two things that resemble suction cups. The nurse pulls the curtain shut and gives us some privacy.

“What is that?” I ask, eyeing the contraption as if it’s a ticking bomb.

“It’s a breast pump. It pumps the milk for the babies,” she enlightens me.

“Pumps it? Can’t you just pop ‘em on there and let ’em go to town? Isn’t that the point of breastfeeding?”

She burst out in laughter. “Oh, my God, no!” She grimaces lightly with the pain, but remains smiling. “Their sucking reflexes aren’t strong enough. I pump the milk, give it to the nurses, and they feed them through the tubes. And the point isn’t just to throw them on there and give them a buffet; it’s to nourish them and form a bond,” she educates.

“I see. So, you have to undress for this? I can step out.” She shakes her head no. “It’s not like you haven’t seen tits before, and we both know you’ve seen mine many times. I can do it under my gown.” She lifts the gown and places the cups on each one of her breasts. Lord help me, those beautiful round breasts. Fuck. Me. I will myself to look the other way, but I can’t. All I can think about is how I want to go over and assist her any way she’ll let me.

Once everything’s in place
,
she hits a button and turns on this annoying sucking machine. Usually the noise this thing’s making would irritate the piss out of me, but I’m thankful it’s distracting me from the thought of Allie’s lickable nipples. If she saw me getting a boner just from seeing her tits and abusing the situation, she’d have my balls served to me on a silver fucking platter. I know it’s insensitive to get a woody right now, but damn, I miss those being in my mouth. Fuck, Wyatt! Just fucking stop. I pull back the curtain and make enough room for me to slide out without exposing her, but she stops me.

“You’re not leaving, are you? This doesn’t take that long, I don’t have much. Besides, it takes longer when I don’t have someone to help distract me. Stay,” she encourages.

I take a seat in the rocking chair beside her, and she places her hand on top of mine. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she sighs.

“Saying what? I didn’t hear you say anything. All I hear is that,” I say, pointing at the lean mean sucking machine.

“How much I appreciate you not giving up on me. I know I can be a tad infuriating, but I’m happy you’re here. I don’t know how I’d get through all this without you,” she begins. I lift her hand and kiss the back of her wrist. “Even though I wish it were Blake who saw his children being born, I’m happy I wasn’t alone.” Slowly but surely, my butterfly’s surfacing.

Twenty-Four

~Allie~

A time that should be one of the best days of my life, is not. My life, at the moment, is a nightmare. The wreck took my fiancé’s memory, almost took our babies’ lives, and caused me to deliver them while unconscious. Not that a C-section’s anything I want to remember, but the sound of your child’s first cry, that’s irreplaceable. Not only am I devastated by the events, I just admitted to Wyatt how much I need him. Blake’s in a hospital bed, and I’m confiding in Wyatt. Maybe it was the wreck that has me re-evaluating our past, forgiving him for all he’s done. I’ve always believed that life’s too short to be anything but happy, and we should live it to the fullest. Don’t get upset over petty things, forgive and forget, and love with all that’s within you. Moments pass by faster than we can blink, and well, past moments can’t be replaced. 

Hating him for leaving Lacy and me, holding a grudge against him for having sex with Sophie when he had no recollection of doing so; I can’t hold on to it any longer. I’ve come to terms that he did what he thought was best for me. Although he wasn’t honest with me
,
I realize his intentions were good. And Sophie, well, I do still love her. I miss her like crazy. What she did to Wyatt was unforgivable, but my life’s dull without her daily dose of sarcasm. It’s killing me not being able to pick up the phone to call and tell her she needs to get her ass here and check on her God-babies. For years
,
she’s been the first person I’ve called for everything, all things joyous and devastating. If she knew what’s happening with Blake and that we were in an accident, she’d be here at our sides with no questions asked. She may be bit conniving, but she has a heart of gold. 

She’s been a part of my daily routine since I met her our sophomore year of college. I remember walking into the dorm, and she threw herself at me like a linebacker, wrapped her arms around my neck, knocking me and my luggage to the floor. I remembered thinking her gorgeous looks were a cover for her psychotic qualities. I even considered asking the Dean to let me room with another student. My life hasn’t been the same since then. Sophie and Blake knew each other a year before I met Blake in chemistry, and they’d always looked out for one another. He’s the brother she never had, and if she could see how beat up he is from the accident
, it’d kill her. I need to call her. She should know what’s going on; maybe not about me or the babies, but she deserves to know about Blake. 

Once I’m back in the room, Wyatt helps me settle in and calls the nurse to give me another dose of medication. I’m having more pain than I did with Lacy’s delivery, but I also have this huge laceration in the side of my stomach that could be contributing to the discomfort.

“Are you okay to be here by yourself? Lucille’s here, but she’s working, and I really need a shower,” Wyatt smiles, sniffing his shirt and crinkling his nose as if he smells.

“Come here, let me check.” I pull him gently by his shirt. I only meant to take a playful sniff, but instead
,
I soak up the smell that’s always made me weak, the smell I cuddled up to the entire time he was away. The night I gave myself to him and he left, he left his undershirt behind. I stashed it inside my pillowcase so it wouldn’t lose its scent, and every night, I’d lose myself in the memories we shared. I didn’t get rid of it until the night at Willie’s when Blake and I took our friendship to the next level. 

His chuckle snaps me out of my trance. “Not too bad, huh?” he laughs, my nose still embedded in his shirt.

“Shut up, and yes, you smell terrible,” I respond, pinching my nose closed.

He rolls his eyes and kisses the top of my head swiftly. “Bullshit. I’ll be back as soon as I’m not so terrible-smelling,” he smiles. “You call me if you need me. Promise?” It’s not like I have a lot of options on who to call in case of an emergency, at least not at the moment.

“Promise,” I wink. 

When Wyatt’s gone, I skim the room for my cell phone. Beside me on a table is my cell and the most important material possession I own, my locket. The screen on my phone is shattered, and the chain to my locket is broken. I take the locket into my hand and read over the engraving,
‘Seasons are many, their reasons are few. What will always remain is my love for you’.
Always. That word means forever, and right now, he doesn’t remember his love for me. To me, this locket wasn’t him proclaiming his love for me; he was promising me forever. And dammit, we’re getting our forever. We both deserve our happily ever after. He promised to keep his promises, and I’m holding him to his word. Memory or not, his heart holds love for me, and I will bring it to surface if it’s the last thing I do. 

Placing the precious piece over my heart, I close my eyes and do something I’ve gotten back into the habit of doing yet again: praying. I ask God to give Blake his memories of me; not only for me, but for our family. Maybe I don’t deserve him, but Blaine and Baylee do. Hopefully, the doctors will allow him to go down and see our sweet creations, and maybe they’ll trigger something inside his beautiful mind.

Even in his state of mind, he’s as charming as always. Even though he didn’t remember me, he remained a true gentleman. He wasn’t agitated by my presence in the least. He lifted his face to me, and his sleepy eyes wandered my face while he attempted to place it with a name, but he couldn’t. 

“B, how are you feeling?” He looks as bad as the pain I’m feeling. His face is bruised with lacerations, and there are stitches and burn marks on his right forearm where he blocked the airbag from pounding into my once-swollen stomach.

He looks at me questioningly before answering. “I sure don’t feel like running a marathon; I’ll tell you that,” he jokes. I laugh at his response. “Beautiful, I don’t know who you are or why you’re here to see me, but you sure are a sight for sore eyes,” he flirts.

What the fuck does he mean; he doesn’t know who I am? I’m his fiancé, the mother of his children. He knows who I am. 

“Shut up, you know who I am,” I say, agitated. I’m hurting, and I don’t have time for mind games.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t. What’s your name, beautiful?” That’s it. There’s no holding back. My barriers break, and the flooding begins. He reaches out and places his hand on top of mine, gently tracing the back of my hand with his thumb. This can’t be happening.  

“B, you know who I am … Allie. My name’s Allie, remember?” I choke. He pulls his hand away from mine, but I reach out and pull it back to me. Spreading his hand open wide, I place his palm over my heart. “Remember, Blake. You feel how my heart reacts to you? I need you to remember.” He gulps but doesn’t speak; in fact, he’s letting off no emotion at all. I gaze deeply into his eyes and search for any sign that he’s fucking with my mind, but there’s nothing. The Blake whose heart burns with love for me is gone. Why hasn’t anyone bothered to tell me he doesn’t know who I am? This is temporary, right? It has to be. “Nothing?” I ask.

“You look vaguely familiar, but I can’t place how,” he states. 

My anger’s rising, and yes, it’s unfair to him, but he’s going to remember me! He may have a head injury, but you don’t forget the one person you love most. “Blake, you know who I am. I’m your fiancé … your forever. Remember, Goddammit!” I wail.

He flinches from the sound of my voice, demanding and heartbroken. He looks at me like I’m a random lunatic. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you. And wait, why are you in a hospital gown? You didn’t break out, did you?”

What the fuck is he talking about? “Break out of what?” I ask, irritated.

“Forgive me if this is offensive, I apologize. But, you didn’t happen to escape from the psych floor, did you?” he asks uneasily. 

If he wasn’t so beat up already
,
I’d punch him in the damn mouth and wipe that scary
-
ass grin right off his face. “No, dumbass. I’m in this because I delivered our babies right after the accident. OUR babies.” Dear God, please help him remember. His mouth falls open, and he stares at me dumbfounded. “Baylee and Blaine,” I hint. Still nothing. 

Standing up from the chair, I fight the pain and get up beside him on his bed. I nuzzle into his side, place my left hand on top of his heart, and then lean up and capture his mouth. He’s hesitant, but finally he kisses me back. As I kiss him, I pay close attention to the beating of his heart, and I become devastated when I notice it doesn’t increase in speed as it normally does. So, I deepen the kiss; I kiss him hungrily, hard and rapid. I open my eyes and see him blankly staring at me. I continue to kiss him with all I have but fail in my attempts to shock his heart. Pulling my mouth away from his, I hold my stomach at the incision site and walk as fast as I can to the door. My insides feel as if they’re going to hit the floor at any given moment, but I can’t slow down. My heart’s on the verge of rupturing, and I need to get out of this room.

The knock at my door snaps me back into the present. “Come on in,” I yell. The door opens and in walks Clair, Aken, and to my surprise, Brody. Clair rushes to my side and peppers my face with kisses, and Aken takes my hand and kisses the back of it. Brody stands in the background with his hands shoved into his pockets, laughing. I narrow my eyes at him, and he just shrugs.

“Allie, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Clair breathes. Actually, I’m not ‘okay’. I simply smile and return her sympathetic hug. Aken pats my hand, and then steps aside so Brody can come in and say hello. I stop him before he’s able to touch me.

“Wait. Have you showered after your latest fling? And don’t you think about squeezing me in that bear hug Blake and you share. That’s y’all’s thing,” I warn. 

Brody smiles and leans down to wrap his arms around me, squeezing me tighter than his parents did, but not enough to cause me any pain. “Hey, lil sis,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss to my cheek. 

“Your mom said the babies are doing well, considering how early they were born,” Aken pipes.

I nod. “I’m not sure I’d say they’re well, but they’ll get there,” I inform him.

“When can we see them? I mean, are you willing to let us see them?” Clair asks nervously.

“Of course you’re allowed to see them. Y’all are their grandparents. Why wouldn’t I let you see them?”

Clair lets out a shaky breath and takes a seat on Aken’s lap. “Well
, with all that’s going on with Blake, I just thought …” she shrugs. What? Just because Blake’s a little confused doesn’t mean they can’t hold what belongs to them, and the same goes for Blake.

“Blake’s just confused. He’ll get over it soon.” He has to; we need him. In fact, I want him to go down and visit Blaine and Baylee. “Why don’t y’all take him down to see the babies? Maybe if he holds them in his arms, they’ll trigger his memory.”

Tears fill her eyes, and if I’m seeing correctly, so do Brody’s. She reaches out and takes my hand into hers, tracing the back with her thumb just as Blake does. “I know, sweetie. It’s just going to take some time. Don’t give up hope, okay? Just promise me you won’t give up on him.”

Giving up on Blake isn’t an option. He never gave up on me. For years, he’s been by my side, fighting for my heart and my love; I’ll do the same for him. “I won’t give up.” I promise.

“Now, when can we see the little rascals?” Aken asks.

“I put both of you on the list; you don’t need me with you to go in to see them. Blake’s on the list, too, but Brody, I couldn’t put you on because it’s limited space, immediate family only,” I apologize.

“No worries, girl. I’m not good with anything under three-foot feet,” he states seriously.

Okay. Note to self, never send the twins to uncle Brody’s house until they’re almost four. Clair and Akin laugh and ask for directions to the NICU. I tell them where to go and what to expect, and they leave me to go see their grandbabies. Brody hugs me goodbye and tells me he’s going to check on Blake. Before he leaves, he turns to tell me, “Don’t stress over it, Allie.

What’s meant to be will be. Just leave it up to fate.”

Well, isn’t that an insensitive-as-fuck statement. Leave it to fate? This is obviously coming from a guy who’s experienced nothing but good in his life. I bite my tongue, smile sweetly, and nod. There’s no use in arguing with ignorance. And if he believes fate should be allowed to make decisions, that’s exactly what he is … ignorant.

When everyone’s clear from my room, I pick up the hospital phone beside my bed and dial Sophie’s number. The phone rings and rings, and then finally goes to voicemail. After the beep, I consider hanging up, but I decide to swallow my pride and leave a message. “Sophie, it’s Allie. Listen, I know we’re not on the best terms right now, and if you remember anything from yesterday, I’m sure you’re as eager to talk to me as I am you. But, you need to know that Blake and I were in a car accident last night, a pretty bad one. I’m fine, but B … he’s not so good. I really think you should come up to see him. He’s here at Onslow on the neurology floor. My cell is fried, but you can call this number back if you want.” I give her the number that’s on the phone and hang up. It’s not normal for her to not answer her phone; even for unknown numbers, she always answers. 

I pick up the phone and dial her number several more times, but still no answer. My last resort is her parents. Thankfully, I’ve called her multiple times when she went home on breaks in college, and I’ve memorized their number just as I have my own. Her mother picks up on the fourth ring.