50 Shades of Drake 5 and 6

More Life: Chapter Thirty-One

    A loud beeping sound was on a constant loop, nearly loud enough to deafen fully functioning ears. The beeping was accompanied by a faint pulsing sound. Aubrey was surrounded by stark white. White walls, white floors. When he looked down at himself, he could see that he was even dressed in white. 

    A cacophony of voices filled the space, voices without faces.

    "The baby has been delivered via Cesarian, but is not breathing."

    "Attempt resuscitation."

    "We have a severe bleeding problem!" someone shouted.

    Aubrey started to walk forward, propelled by concern. His steps quickened in pace until he was at a full sprint, moving through a sea of white until a flash exploded in front of him. The flash temporarily blinded him. His sight returned and he was greeted with a hospital room. Machines beeped as a doctor flanked by nurses peered down at the hospital bed before them. With fear locking his heart, Aubrey moved to stand behind the nurses and peered between two of them.

    An unconscious Destiny lie in bed, but she wasn't moving. She didn't even appear to be conscious. 

    "The baby still isn't breathing."

    "First priority is to stop the bleeding!" the doctor yelled, his hands moving in a frenzy. 

    "Save them," Aubrey said, his voice too low for any of them to hear. He found himself repeating the words over and over again. "Save them!"

    "We're losing her."

    "Losing the patient is not an option. Our job is to save her and by God, we're going to at least do that."

    Lower voices speaking in a murmur. "The baby is gone. We've lost him. Call it and focus on saving the mother."

    The image drew back from him, sucked into some otherworldly portal at the speed of light. Then he was surrounded by all white again, his breaths coming out short and ragged. "Where is she? What happened?"

    "You just witnessed the loss of our son," came a very familiar voice from behind him.

    He whirled around to face Destiny, wearing an all white gown that contrasted beautifully with her brown skin. Her hair was dark and pulled back from her face in a neat chignon. It was her, but she looked different. It was a difference that took him a long time to recognize. There was something more mature about her, something wiser. Not quite like she had aged, but...maybe something similar to that? 

    When she moved, it was with a grace advanced beyond her years. "You lost a child, but...you also gained one, isn't that right? Even though you haven't told me about it yet?"

    Unable to meet her gaze directly, he looked at some point beyond her shoulder. Staring at bleak, white oblivion. "Whether or not the child is mine is unconfirmed."

    "The child is yours."

    The blood in his veins froze. "How could you possibly-"

    "Why haven't you told me about it?"

    "How was I going to tell you about the possibility of a child I conceived while you were off somewhere suffering the loss of the son I made with you?" he asked, his voice sounding hollow.

    "Do you think prolonging the confession will change my reaction to the information?" She circled around him the way a cheetah circled its prey.

    He shook his head. "I couldn't tell you, not then."

    "Then when? Are you going to wait until the next crazy thing happens to us, so you're too distracted to even remember that you have a child with someone else?"

    There wasn't a way for him to respond to that.

    She came to stand before him and realization sparked in her eyes. "Oh, I see. You wanted to continue deluding yourself as to the paternity of this child, so that you could wait until those results are returned before even telling me? Is that the decision you've made?"

    "Destiny."

    "You have me back, but you haven't faced the last of hurdles with me yet, dear Aubrey. We have more obstacles ahead of us that will attempt to stand in the way of our happiness. Before we can tackle those obstacles together, we have to form a unified front. We cannot form a unified front if you're harboring secrets from me."

    He hung his head in shame.

    "This BDSM lifestyle you've introduced me to is supposed to be about complete trust. Trust in each other and trust in the bond that we have. Your persistent fear that I will walk away from you is the opposite of trust, the opposite of faith. You have to have more faith in me."

    "You haven't even had the chance to grieve the loss of our son," he said, fighting back tears.

    "There is no justification for harboring this secret," she stated flatly. Her voice was devoid of all emotion. It was like Destiny without any of the passion, any of the feelings. "Rip off the bandaid. Tell me. If we have any chance of surviving everything set to come at us, you have to tell me. Tell me before the media reports do. Because I will warn you, Aubrey...I am willing to stick beside you through many things. But if I cannot trust you to be honest and transparent with me, we don't have a shot in hell of making it through this."

    Aubrey bolted upright in bed, a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin. He rubbed at his eyes and jerked his head towards the window. Light still pushed at the blinds and curtains. It was still day time. He had no sense of how long he'd been asleep, but the words from his haunting dream still filled his head, ringing clear as day.

~~~~~~

    "Are you sure you don't want us to scope the place out before you go in?" Nice FBI asked as Destiny approached the front door.

    She shook her head. "I've got it from here and I'll reach out to you guys if I need anything."

    Both agents nodded, but didn't budge from their positions near the porch until she was well within the confines of the house.

    Feeling uneasy, she flattened herself near one of the front windows so she could watch them until they backed away from the porch. They conducted a perimeter check of the house before heading to their own houses. Sighing with relief, she quietly moved around the house in an attempt to conduct her own security check. During this search, she found a few of the small microphones and motion detecting devices the FBI agents had mentioned. 

    Satisfied with her search, she made her way to the bedroom. 

    Aubrey was sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window. His shoulders were sagging.

    She stopped in the doorframe, feeling the tug of pain pulling her heart. Is he thinking about our son? she wondered. 

    He turned and glanced at her.

    Wanting to run to him and hug him, she held up a solitary finger to her lips. Then she proceeded to move around the room, searching for any surveillance devices. She found none in the bedroom or bathroom. With her heart feeling heavy, she returned to Aubrey and sat down beside him on the bed. Wordlessly, she raised a hand and made a sweeping affectionate gesture over the top of his head. "The agents said that the bedroom and bathroom don't have any recording or monitoring devices in them. I'm not sure how far of a reach the devices in the other rooms have, so we still need to keep it quiet."

    "We have to talk," he said.