My Brother's Best Friend

Chapter 70

Make sure you read Chapter 69 before this one.

*Jazmine's POV*

"Ready to try again?" Santo asks after I finish eating my soup. I nod slightly and he helps me up.

With one arm around my waist, holding my hand. His other hand was holding mine, helping me walk. We leave the room, going down the hall. My doctor wants me to walk everyday, so I don't have to do a whole lot of physical therapy.

"It's getting easier, huh?" He asks.

I nod, trying to walk with this stupid crutch is hard, but it is getting easier. "Doctor said you could leave the hospital soon. We might even be able to go home." He smiles.

"That's great." I smile a little. I've been in here for three weeks, I'm tired of being here.

Once we get back to the room, it took forty minutes, and we only walked down the hall and back up, Santo helps me back into bed. He sits beside me, taking my hand into his. "You're getting better." He smiles. "That makes me so happy. I thought I lost you."

"Never." I smile.

He lefts my hand to his lips, kissing it. "You're getting healthier too." He rubs my cheek, then my stomach.

"I think I felt the baby move earlier." I smile again.

"Well, you are a little over six months now." He smiles also. "What are we going to name him?"

"I was thinking after your dad and my grandpa." I answer.

"Like what?"

"Leo Trent, or Michael Jonathan. Or we could do Trent Leo or Jonathan Michael."

"I kind of like Michael Jonathan. Michael kind of sounds like Makayla, and we never named a baby after you like we planned to." He tells me.

I smile, "Anything is fine with me."

"Then I guess we have a name." Santo smiles, kissing my forehead.

"When will the kids be here?" I ask.

"They can't come today, it's your rest day, honey." He reminds me. They come every other day. I'm in extremely high risk pregnancy with multiple broken bones, he's going the extra thousand miles to prevent a miscarriage, and I don't really blame.

"So, I'm assuming I'm on bed rest when I get home?" I ask.

"Obviously." He chuckles.

I laugh, but suddenly get nauseous. Santo must sense it because he runs to get the pink bucket thing. He hands it to me and holds my hair back while I throw up everything I've eaten today.

After I finish, he disposes of it the correct way, the nurse taught him, and lays in bed with me, rubbing my back. "I'm sorry." I apologize.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. The doctor told you it'd take a little while for things to get normal. You can keep some stuff down, when we first found you, you could barely finish a sandwich."

"I know." I frown, rubbing my small belly. It should be so much bigger than it is.

"But you're taking your vitamins and doing everything you can to make sure you and the baby are healthy." He reminds me, placing his hand on top of mine.

"I just, I want him to live. What if I give birth and he doesn't make it?" I ask, truly scared.

"We hope and pray he makes it, if not, he's in a better place and we'll see him again." He answers. "No matter what, I got you and you got me, right? God has a plan, baby."