Saving Me

Don't be so Hard on Yourself

Matt's POV

"You have lost your damn mind, Ebony, if you think I'm letting this child out of my sight," I said as the doctor reached for the little girl in my arms. "I found her, and she's scared. I'm the first person she saw who made her feel safe."

"Matt, you know I have to check her out. And to do that properly, you need to place her on the bed," Ebony said. "Please, make my life easier and cooperate with me."

"Fine, but I'm not leaving her side. So don't even think about telling me I have to leave this room," I said as I gently lowered the child onto the bed. "And if you make her cry, it's on like Donkey Kong."

"Wouldn't think of it," Ebony said, rolling her eyes—knowing full well my threat was idle—as she began examining the child. "You know, the Lord must've had his hand on this little angel and her mama. I heard that area got slammed pretty hard."

"It did. When I left, these two were the only survivors we found," I said. "It looks like a damn war zone over there, Eb."

"I heard. Sheriff Vann was in here a little bit ago. Said he wouldn't be surprised if it was an F5 that went through that part of Jackson," she said, tickling the baby's belly. "He said Seaboard and Pendleton were a mess too."

"I haven't heard about those towns. Just know what I saw in Jackson," I replied with a sigh. "And he's right. It looks just like Joplin did." At my words, Ebony's head whipped in my direction. She knew I never talked about that day.

"That bad?" she asked, her voice cracking. Ebony had lost a sister and niece that day, same as I'd lost Cassie and Danielle.

"Yeah. Maybe even worse, given the size of the towns by comparison," I said. Needing to touch the child I'd saved, I walked to the bed and placed a finger in her tiny hand. She gripped it immediately and smiled up at me, sending a pang of sorrow through me. What I wouldn't give to see a smile like that from my own daughter.

But my thoughts were cut off by a woman screaming down the hall, demanding to know where her baby was. Without thinking, I lifted the child and followed the noise to the trauma bay. As I slid the door open, I saw the woman who'd been found holding the baby sitting up in bed, fighting with the nurses to get free. As if sensing her child was near, she stopped struggling and looked me dead in the eye. The relief that washed over her was so overwhelming she collapsed onto the bed, all fight gone.

I walked over to the bed and smiled. "I'm guessing you must be this little angel's mama."

"Is–Is she o–okay?" the woman asked, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please tell me my baby's okay."

"She's fit as a fiddle," I said proudly. "At least, far as we know." Moving carefully, I lowered the baby into her arms and watched as she cradled her daughter close, holding her the same way we'd found them. Seeing that joy and relief on her face made my own tears fall.

They really started flowing when I heard her whisper that she'd been so afraid she lost the best thing she'd ever done in life. Her words echoed in my heart, making me think of my own loss—of how I'd always argue that marrying Cassie and having Danielle were the best things I'd ever done.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, too loud, too much. I had to get out.

I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the ambulance bay doors. But I didn't stop there. I took off running, needing distance from the hospital. When I reached the small pond out back, my knees gave out and I collapsed, letting all the emotions I'd been bottling up erupt in a roar of sorrow and frustration.

When was this pain ever going to stop? Would I ever feel whole again?

I don't know how long I sat out there, but it couldn't have been long. Ebony had definitely seen my face when I ran. She knew me too well. After losing Cassie and Danielle, I'd leaned on her hard. Ebony had been the one who forced me out of bed, shoved food down my throat, and made me go to grief counseling. She was my saving grace, in more ways than one.