3.0 The Chronicles of Us - Choas & Clarity

Chapter thirty-eight

•★ Tex ★•

I inhale a lung-bursting amount of air before facing the woman who spoke. She doesn't look like she's about to deliver bad news, but that could simply be a communication tactic. "Is my wife alive? Will she make it?"

Two dimples appear on her chubby cheeks when she smiles. "Your wife is still in surgery. I came to ask if you're ready to meet your offspring."

Our kid is alive!

Only a small weight falls from my shoulders. A part of me wants to stay behind in case the doctor comes back to give me an update, but the other part is in dire need to see our baby.

A spark of light amidst the dark.

I follow the nurse to the maternity ward. The room we enter contains a dozen of see-through plastic cribs. It's surprisingly quiet. Not one of them is crying. My heart trips. Is this some morbid baby morgue? Did she lie?

I quickly look at the nurse; she doesn't seem somber. When I scan the room a little better, I'm starting to notice the signs of life. Fucking hell. I really scared the shit outta myself.

The nurse keeps walking and then halts in front of one of the cribs, smiling at me. "Take a look, dad."

Dad ... Can't say that I hate it. Actually, I like it a lot. I lean over and look at the two babies that are sound asleep. Maybe they were out of cribs? I'm waiting for the nurse to tell me which one is mine, but she just keeps smiling.

The fuck?

I look at the babies again. Is this some trial-by-fire kinda thing where they determine whether I'm worthy as a father by picking the right one? They look exactly the same. How the hell am I supposed to know?

Afraid to grow attached to the wrong one, I focus on the nurse again. "Which one is it?"

She blinks precisely three times and then raises her eyebrow like I'm dumb. "Both, of course. Your wife carried twins."

What the motherfucking fuck!?

"Fucking twins!" I stagger backwards until my legs hit a chair. In complete shock, I sit down and stare at the ceiling. What kind of sick universe would grant someone like me two children? At the same fucking time! While my wife is fighting for her life! We didn't anticipate on this. We are not prepared. I need to go home and double all the baby stuff. We only bought one baby prison. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with all this? I need Ellie. I need her to tell me what to do.

I need her so fucking much.

The nurse is so kind to pretend there isn't some tall, scary-looking dude heaving for air. When my breathing has steadied, she approaches me again. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"How? How is this possible?"

She takes a seat in the chair next to me, laying her hand on my arm to calm me. "I looked through your wife's medical records. She missed a check-up as well as the third-trimester ultrasound. A surprise twin is quite rare but not unheard of. Especially when the fetuses shared the same amniotic sac. Although—"She frowns as if something is amiss. "—they both should've been visible during the last ultrasound your wife had."

A fluke?

It doesn't matter. The fact is that I fathered two kids. Two precious kids. Reality slowly sinks in. "Can I hold them?"

She observes me and then nods. "It's best if you stay seated."

As if I could stand right now.

I do as I'm told and watch her roll the crib my way. As I open my arms awkwardly, she places one in each elbow-crook. My tired eyes close for a second to appreciate how their weight and warmth ease my heartbeat. We can do this. We'll figure everything out. We've got enough room for two. They're tiny, anyway.

My bird will live.

Anything else is unacceptable.

I swallow, open my eyes and look at them. Fuck, they're so ugly and wrinkly and so completely beautiful. Ellie and I made these. We created these tiny humans. My heart swells in a way I haven't experienced before. How could I ever have thought that Ellie would love me less if we got a kid? My love for her just sky-rocketed to a whole new level. Besides that, it feels like I've grown two extra hearts. All of them devoted to the three people I love the most. I shift my focus between the two of them, but my leaking eyes muddy my vision.

"Did you and your wife pick names yet?"

I scrape my throat to keep myself from sobbing. "We picked a name for a boy and a girl. Guessing from the pink beanies, they're both girls?"

The nurse chuckles. I'm pretty sure she's amused by my cluelessness. "Yes, they are identical, so they have the same gender."

I look at my daughters. I can't name them. Not without Ellie. Baby One and Baby Two will have to do, for now. Although, I'm not sure how to tell them apart. When her pager goes off, my heart travels to my throat. "Any news on my wife?"

"Unfortunately, no. As far as I know, she's still in surgery. I know that sounds very scary, but keep in mind that maternal mortality rates are very low nowadays."

Take a breath.

And another.

"Low, not zero. Women still die during childbirth."

She nods solemnly. "It happens, but in my thirty years of being a nurse, I can count those incidents on one hand. I'm sure you'll be informed of your wife's condition shortly."

I hold my girls a little tighter to prevent myself from falling apart. What if Ellie doesn't make it? What if I have to raise our girls alone?

Stop it!

Stop thinking like that. No news is good news. It has to be. The four of us will all go home, safe and sound. And we will be happy. We're gonna be so goddamn happy, people will be sick with jealousy. They're all gone be like, "How dare that handsome family make us look like a bunch of humdrums with all their laughs and love."

My face must be showing all kinds of severe distress 'cause the nurse suddenly frowns and gets to her feet. "Let's put your girls back for now. Remember to inhale through your nose and exhale from your mouth."

I follow her advice a couple times before allowing her to take my daughters. Their absence already makes me feel cold and lonely.

When the nurse leaves me for a moment to soothe one of the babies that started crying on the other side of the room, a young girl comes through the door. Must be a trainee.

"Betty," she calls as she walks up to the nurse who took me here, "did you hear about that poor woman? Mrs. Chase, I think. She's unresponsive, the doctor was even talking about the procedure for organ donation."

Betty slaps the back of the girl's head, looking my way with pity and worry in her eyes.

Organ donation.

My girl isn't gonna make it. My face pales and air escapes me. Betty runs up to me, but I can't hear a single word she's saying. Static noise pounds in my ears.

Choking on crippling fear, I bury my head so deep in my hands the world disappears.

My girl is dead.

♬♬♬♬

A/N

💔💔💔

X Dionne