Uncovered Secret: Taylor Swift Has A Daughter - Fanfiction

Chapter 37: Bridget Gets Sick

Taylor's POV

One morning, I was in the living room when Bridget walked in, looking unusually pale. The moment she came closer, I could tell something was wrong. She was shivering slightly, and her face was flushed.
"Bee, are you okay?" I asked, immediately concerned.
She tried to muster a smile, but it was clear she was struggling. "I don't feel so good, mom," she said weakly.
I reached out to feel her forehead, and my worry deepened. She was burning up with a high fever. "You're very hot, Bridget. Let's get you back to bed. You need to rest."
I helped her to her room, her steps unsteady. Once she was comfortably in bed, I fetched a thermometer. The reading confirmed my fears; her temperature was worryingly high.
I knew I needed to act quickly. "Bridget, I'm going to call the doctor right away," I told her, trying to keep my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest.
She nodded, looking small and vulnerable in her bed. "Thanks, mom," she managed to say, her voice a mere whisper.
I stayed by her side, holding her hand while I waited for the doctor to arrive. In the midst of my growing concern, something terrifying happened – Bridget suddenly passed out. My heart leapt into my throat as panic engulfed me. I checked for any sign of life, but she remained unresponsive.
Without wasting a second, I scooped her up in my arms and rushed to the car. As I drove to the hospital, my mind was racing with fear and worry. I quickly dialed Travis on speakerphone, my voice trembling as I spoke.
"Travis, it's Bridget. She just passed out. I'm on my way to the hospital now," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady amidst the chaos.
I could hear the concern in Travis's voice as he responded, promising to meet me there as soon as possible.
Arriving at the hospital, I carried Bridget inside, screaming for help. Nurses and doctors quickly came to our aid, taking her from my arms and rushing her to the emergency room. I followed closely, my heart pounding in my chest.
As the medical team swiftly maneuvered Bridget onto a stretcher and into the emergency room, I felt a profound sense of helplessness wash over me. Her pale, still face was etched into my mind, and I could barely keep the tears at bay.
"Please, you have to help her," I pleaded with the doctors, my voice breaking with fear and urgency.
The medical staff, with their calm and professional demeanor, assured me they were doing everything they could. They ushered me to the private waiting area, explaining that they needed space to work and assess her condition. Sitting in the sterile, impersonal waiting room, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. Every second felt like an eternity, my mind plagued with worst-case scenarios.
I was pacing back and forth when Travis arrived, his face etched with worry. He immediately enveloped me in a comforting embrace. "How is she? What did they say?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
"They're still with her. I don't know anything yet," I replied, my voice a whisper, with tears streaming down my face.
We sat together, waiting in agonizing silence for any news. Every time a doctor passed by, my heart skipped a beat, hoping for an update. I clung to Travis, drawing strength from his presence, praying for Bridget to be okay. The uncertainty was excruciating, but I knew I had to be strong - for Bridget, for Travis, and for myself.
Time seemed to crawl in that hospital waiting room. With each passing minute, my anxiety grew, a relentless tide that threatened to overwhelm me. Travis remained a steadfast presence beside me, his hand gripping mine as if to anchor me in the storm of my fears.
Finally, a doctor approached us, a clipboard in hand. "Ms. Swift?" he said, his tone professional yet empathetic.
I stood up abruptly, my heart racing. "Yes, how is she? Is she okay?"
The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. "Bridget is stable. She is severely dehydrated but we've managed to stabilize her condition. She's still unconscious, but we expect her to wake up soon."
Relief washed over me like a wave, leaving me almost weak-kneed. "Can we see her?" I asked, my voice quivering with a mix of relief and lingering worry. Travis held my hand tight - I knew he was just as upset as I was.
"Yes, but she might not wake up for a little while. Just be prepared," he cautioned as he led us to her room.
Bridget lay there, looking so small and vulnerable in the hospital bed, her breathing steady thanks to the medical equipment. I approached slowly, my eyes welling up as I took in the sight of my daughter, so full of life and energy, now rendered so quiet and still. My baby girl.
I took her hand, gently squeezing it. "I'm here, Bee. You're going to be okay," I whispered, trying to infuse my voice with more confidence than I felt.
Travis stood by the door, giving me space but remaining close. His presence was a silent source of comfort, a reminder that we were in this together.
We settled into a vigil by her bedside, watching over her. I immediately canceled my appointments and Travis excused himself from his games. All that mattered in this world right now was Bridget. My Bridget. Our Bridget.
In the middle of the night, with Bridget still not waking up, I snuck out of her room. In the sterile, echoing corridor of the hospital, I found a quiet corner, my hands trembling as I dialed Joe's number. The ringtone felt like an eternity until he finally picked up.
"Joe, it's Taylor," I said, my voice strained with emotion. "Bridget's in the hospital. She... she collapsed and..."
His response was cold, detached. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"
His words felt like a slap in the face, a stark contrast to the turmoil and fear swirling inside me. "I thought you should know. She's your daughter," I replied, struggling to keep my voice steady.
There was a pause, and then Joe's voice, laced with irritation. "Taylor, I'm miles away. There's nothing I can do. This is on you. Try not to make it a big media deal this time."
I felt a surge of exasperation, mixed with a profound sadness. This wasn't the time for arguments or blame. Our daughter was lying in a hospital bed, and all he could offer were dismissive words.
"Fine," I said, the word barely a whisper. "I just thought you had the right to know."
Without waiting for his response, I ended the call and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. The coldness of his words echoed in my ears, but I pushed them away. This wasn't about Joe or me; it was about Bridget, about being there for her when she needed us the most.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. It was time to go back to Bridget's side, to be the parent she needed right now. With a heavy heart, I walked back to her room, ready to face whatever came next, with or without Joe's support.
Back in Bridget's hospital room, I stood by her bedside, watching her sleep peacefully despite the array of monitors and IVs attached to her. The quiet beeps and hums of medical equipment were a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. I felt a hand gently rest on my shoulder, and I didn't need to look to know it was Travis.
"Hey," he whispered softly, his presence immediately comforting. "How are you holding up?"
I let out a deep, shaky breath, my eyes still fixed on Bridget. "I'm scared, Travis. Seeing her like this... it's just so overwhelming."
He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. "I know, I know. But she's strong, Taylor. She's going to pull through this."
I leaned into his embrace, allowing myself a moment of vulnerability. "I just wish Joe could see that. I called him, and... it didn't go well."
Travis sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Forget about Joe for now. You're here, I'm here. We're her family, and we're going to get through this together."
I nodded, drawing strength from his words. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
He kissed the top of my head gently. "You're not going to have to find out. I'm here for you, and for Bee. We're a team, remember?"
We both fell asleep on the uncomfortably small couch together, but when I woke up, Travis wasn't there. The sound of his voice echoed down the hallway, vowels making their way through the cracks. I gently got up and quietly made my way out of the room, moving into the direction of his voice. As I got closer it became clear it was tense, a tone I'd rarely hear from him.
"You don't get to just call the shots, Joe!" Travis's voice was a mix of frustration and determination. "Bridget is in the hospital, for heaven's sake. She needs her father now more than ever."
I leaned against the wall, my heart sinking.
"I don't care about the past issues between you and Taylor," Travis continued, his voice growing louder. "This is about your daughter. She's scared and sick, and you're her dad. You should be here!"
Listening in, I felt a mixture of gratitude and worry. Travis was fiercely defending our daughter, something I had longed for Joe to do.
There was a pause, and I assumed Joe was responding, but I couldn't make out the words.
"No, it's not about taking sides," Travis shot back. "It's about being a parent. Bridget loves you, and right now, she needs all the support she can get."
I closed my eyes briefly, a wave of emotions washing over me. Travis was stepping up in ways Joe never had, and it both warmed and broke my heart.
"Think about what you're doing, Joe. This isn't just about you or Taylor. It's about Bridget. You're losing her as your daughter by not being there for her," Travis said, his voice softening a bit, as if trying to reason with him.
There was another pause, and then I heard Travis sigh heavily. "Fine. But remember, you're making this choice. Bridget will remember it too." The call ended, and I heard the phone click shut.
As Travis turned and saw me standing there, his expression softened. "Taylor, I..."
I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for standing up for her."
He hugged me back, just as tightly. "Always. For both of you."
In that embrace, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, I found a moment of profound gratitude and love. We returned back into Bee's room with our fingers intertwined - Travis' grip was confident and yet gentle.
In the dim light of her hospital room, I heard a soft, fragile voice break the silence. "Mommy?" It was Bridget, her eyes fluttering open, confusion and fear mingling in her gaze.
I was by her side in an instant, taking her hand gently. "I'm here, Bee. I'm right here," I soothed, brushing her hair back from her forehead.
Her eyes moved past me, locking onto Travis. "Dad?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Travis's expression faltered for a moment, a look of pained understanding crossing his face. "I'm sorry, Bee," he started, his voice low, "Joe, he's not—"
But Bridget cut him off, her grip tightening on my hand. "No," she said, her voice growing stronger. "You're my dad."
Travis's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he was speechless. He moved closer, reaching out to gently hold her other hand. "Bridget, I..."
"You're here for me. You care about me," Bridget continued, her voice quivering with emotion. "You're the one who's been here, like a dad should be."
I watched, tears brimming in my eyes, as Travis leaned in, his own eyes glistening. "I'm here for you, Bee. Always," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.
There, in that hospital room, a profound bond was acknowledged and embraced. In her vulnerability and honesty, Bridget had spoken a truth that resonated deeply within all of us. She had chosen her family, not by blood, but by love and presence. The moment hung in the air, a tender and powerful acknowledgment of the bonds we'd formed. As I let my tears fall freely, I squeezed Bridget's hand, overwhelmed by the depth of the connection that had grown between her and Travis. It was more than just a stepfather-stepdaughter relationship; it was a bond forged in care, understanding, and genuine affection.
"You'll always be my Bee," Travis said softly, his voice steadying despite the emotion in his eyes. "And I'll always be here for you, in any way you need."
Bridget's eyes filled with tears, a mix of relief and happiness. "I love you both," she whispered, her voice frail but filled with warmth.
I leaned down, kissing her forehead gently. "We love you too, honey. We're a family," I said, my voice a whisper. "No matter what names we use, that's what we are."
The three of us remained there, a silent pact forming in that hospital room. It was a promise of support, love, and unity, regardless of the challenges that lay ahead. As Bridget's breathing steadied and her eyes fluttered closed again, I knew that whatever the future held, we would face it together, as a family.