The Rogue and His Flower (Princetown Heirs #2)

Chapter 31

DAISY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Groaning, I let the warm spray of the shower glide over me, my head tipping down as I look at the trail of blood washing away. My stomach aches, the heavy pull of my period tugging deep inside. I’ve dealt with a heavy flow since I was fifteen, but this seems abnormally painful, and nausea washes over me. The whole journey home I’d felt unwell, and now it seems like the pain is getting worse, not better. Feeling lightheaded, I press my hand against the tiled wall and groan. What on earth is happening?

“Daisy?”

Lifting my head, I see Dalton enter the bathroom, his gaze dropping from my face to my hand pressed against my stomach, to the blood swirling down the drain. I swallow the urge to throw up, not just because of the blood, but because of how unwell I feel.

“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

“I’m fine. Just… Well, except for the fact my body is doing its best to rid me of every last drop of blood it would seem,” I mumble, trying to laugh even as another sharp pain lances through my stomach, and takes my breath.

He steps closer, his hand pressed against the glass as he peers around the shower door at me. “Is this normal?”

“For me it is. Don’t worry, it’ll only last another couple of days and then I’ll be good,” I reply, trying to reassure him, but another wave of pain takes over, and I stumble a little.

“I’m getting in,” he says, his voice urgent.

“You don’t need to,” I say, turning to face him, my cheeks heating as I feel more blood trickle down my leg. “This is kind of disgusting.”

“Nothing about you is disgusting. I can deal with a little bit of blood, Daisy,” he says, trying to reassure me as he reaches for his jumper, about to remove it.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand as I step towards him on shaky legs.

“Daisy, fuck!” Dalton exclaims, slipping his arm around my back to steady me as another wave of dizziness takes over.

I’m caught between wanting to throw up and wanting to faint as he leads me to the toilet. Vomit rises up my throat and I drop to my knees emptying my stomach into the bowl, feeling humiliated, vulnerable. Dalton swears again, and grabs a towel draping it over my back as he rubs his hand up and down my spine.

“Something isn’t right,” he says, helping me to my feet as black spots dance in my vision.

“Dalton, I think I’m going to…” my words trail off as darkness engulfs me. The last thing I capture is Dalton’s expression of fear as I collapse into his arms.

“Daisy, can you hear me?” Dalton’s voice cuts through the haze of confusion in my mind, bringing me back to reality.

My eyes slowly flutter open and I take in my surroundings, the blinding light of what appears to be a hospital room coming into focus. I’m lying on a bed with crisp white sheets, hooked up to an IV as a heart monitor beeps steadily beside me.

“Dalton?” I croak, my throat dry and scratchy. I focus on his concerned face as he reaches out to gently stroke my hair off my forehead.

“Hey, Daisy,” Dalton breathes, relief flooding his features as he stares at me. “You had me worried there for a bit.”

“What happened?” I ask, trying to ease myself upright, but feeling the heavy throb in my stomach and thinking better of it.

“You fainted in the bathroom back home,” he replies softly, his hand still stroking my hair soothingly. “Don’t you remember?”

I frown, snapshots flooding my memory. I remember Dalton carrying me into my bedroom, calling out for help, then ringing an ambulance as soon as Tessa rushed into the room. I vaguely remember throwing up in the ambulance, and blood. So much blood. I remember lying on a stretcher, lights blurring above me as Dalton barked out orders. Then nothing, just this feeling of floating…

“How long have I been out?

“A few hours,” he explains, wincing. “Daisy?—”

“A few hours? What do you mean, a few hours?”

He leans over, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles, eyes flickering with concern. “You had an emergency operation,” he whispers.

“What kind of operation? What the hell is going on?”

“The surgeon will be here in a few minutes to explain everything fully. Drix is just getting us both a cup of coffee. He came the moment I called. He’s been here this whole time too…” His voice trails off as he stares at me, dark circles ringing his eyes. “Fuck, Daisy, I thought I was going to lose you. There was so much blood.”

“Drix is here too? Why was I bleeding so much? My periods have never been this bad before. Why did I need an operation? Is there something wrong with me?” I ask, question after question tripping off my tongue as I try to grasp what’s happened.

Dalton blows out a breath. “I think we should wait for the surgeon to explain. I?—”

“Dalton, tell me now. Tell me!” I demand, my voice becoming frantic and desperate, rising to a panicked pitch. Dalton's hesitation only seems to fuel my fear as his eyes hold a mixture of sorrow and empathy.

“You had a large ovarian cyst that ruptured on your right ovary,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion.

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach as the words sink in. “A...a cyst? Is it cancer?” I choke out, my mind automatically thinking the worst as tears fill my eyes and fall down my cheeks. The thought of facing such a devastating disease is almost unbearable.

“No, you don't have cancer,” Dalton quickly reassures me, but his tone does little to ease my terror.

“Then what? What is it?” I cry, tears escaping faster now, but as Dalton reaches up to wipe them away, his expression shifts to one of concern.

“Daisy...” His voice trails off, and I know something is terribly wrong.

Gripping his hand tightly, I can feel my heart pounding painfully against my rib cage as I wait for him to reveal the full truth. “Dalton, please tell me everything. Don’t keep anything from me,” I plead, searching his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze locking with mine. “The cyst ruptured and caused damage to your right ovary, they had to remove it, Daisy. I’m so sorry.”

“They removed my ovary?” I whisper.

He nods. “They performed laparoscopic surgery so your recovery will be quicker," he adds, as if that makes this horrible, heartbreaking news any better.

My voice quivers with emotion as I ask, "Why did I have a cyst? I don't understand." More tears well in my eyes at the realisation of what he's telling me, of what this could mean for our future.

"It was an endometriosis cyst, Daisy," he explains gently, my heart sinking as he continues. "They also discovered some lesions around your left fallopian tube, and they removed them, but I’m afraid they’ve caused some damage to your fallopian tube."

“Lesions?”

“From endometriosis,” he says.

Panic sets in as I realise the potential impact this could have on my chances of conceiving a child. "This can't be happening," I cry, tears streaming down my face at the thought.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“What does that mean exactly?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around everything.

“Daisy there’s more…” his voice trails off as he looks at me, pain in his eyes.

“What? What else could possibly be wrong?”

“They tested your blood and found high levels of the hCG hormone.”

“What’s hCG hormone?”

“It stands for human chorionic gonadotropin, it’s… Fuck,” he whispers, tears welling in his eyes.

“Dalton, please,” I sob. “Tell me.”

“It’s the hormone produced by a foetus. You were pregnant, Daisy. It was very, very early. No more than a couple of weeks.”

“I was pregnant?”

He nods. “I’m so sorry.”

“I was pregnant?” I repeat, my voice catching as I sob uncontrollably now.

“Daisy, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Dalton says, pain lacerating my chest as he hauls me into his arms and holds on to me tightly, his own grief palpable as he tries to comfort me through my anguish.

“Why?” I cry, letting out all my pain and sorrow, the knowledge that I had been carrying a tiny life within me, a life that is now gone, cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could.

The revelation of losing our baby amidst the chaos of surgery and diagnoses leaves me shattered. I cling to Dalton, the reality of my situation and the loss of a future we’d barely begun to comprehend ripping through my heart by the cruel hand fate has dealt us.

“Shh, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Dalton says, his hand rubbing up and down my back as he embraces me.

As my cries subside into exhausted whimpers, Dalton continues to hold me close, offering silent solace in the face of our shared tragedy. The room feels suffocating, filled with unspoken grief and unanswered questions that loom over us like a storm cloud ready to burst.

“Is there any hope?” I ask, my voice tremulous.

“The consultant said that you still have a functioning ovary,” he explains, pulling back and brushing the tears from my face. “But because the fallopian tube connecting to your healthy ovary has been damaged by the lesions you might not be able to conceive naturally.”

“No,” I shake my head, as more anguish crushing me.

“I’m so so sorry, Daisy.”

“Dalton, why is this happening? Our baby’s gone…” I say, unable to comprehend everything as I drop my head and let out another choked sob.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, Daisy.”

“But what if…? What if that was my only chance?”

“Don’t think like that, we’ll figure this out.”

“But I have to conceive… I lost our baby…Oh my God, what are we going to do?” I ask, my thoughts tumbling, my emotions all over the place, my heart breaking.

“Listen to me now. You’re the most important person here. I don’t want you to worry about any of that. Do you hear me? We get you better, and we go from there, okay?”

“But what about Drix, the debt?”

“That is not something you need to worry about, Daisy,” Drix says as he steps into the room, his own expression filled with sadness.

“Drix,” I cry, looking up at him, at the worry in his eyes, the tenderness, the love. "But…”

“We’ll figure this out. Like Dalton said, all you need to do is focus on getting better,” he adds, placing the two coffee cups on a side table, and dropping into the chair on the other side of the bed as he reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

“What if I can’t conceive again?” I whisper, pain lancing my chest at the thought. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, to be a mother, to have a child, and now that might not be a possibility. Why? Why did this have to happen?”

Dalton and Drix exchange looks before Dalton reaches out to hold my hand. “Daisy, whatever happens we’ll face this together. But right now your health is our priority,” he says gently, but firmly. “You’re not alone in this. I will get you the best doctors, we will figure this out.”

“What about Carl?” I ask, hating how my stomach twists in knots, how he holds all the power. “If he finds out I’ve miscarried, that I might not be able to conceive again, the contract will be null and void and Drix will have to become the families’ enforcer once again. I can’t let that happen. I can’t.”

“We’ll deal with Carl,” Drix says, gritting his jaw as he meets Dalton’s gaze.

“Does he know?” I whisper.

“He wasn’t there when the ambulance was called, but he knows you were taken to hospital and that you needed surgery. We haven’t told him any of the details. We’re just figuring out what to say,” Dalton says, blowing out a breath. “One step at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” I nod weakly. The thought of facing Carl, of dealing with the repercussions of this loss and its potential impact on our fragile arrangement, fills me with dread. But more than that, what if this changes things between Dalton and me? What if he doesn’t want me after this?

Sadness and exhaustion creep over me, and I don’t fight the pull of sleep, needing to fall into the darkness, needing to forget, if only for a little while. The last thing I hear before I drift off is Dalton’s whispered words of comfort.

“We’ll get through this together, Daisy. I promise.”

The next day is a blur of tests, and numerous discussions with doctors about my condition. I had no idea I had endometriosis. My periods have always been heavy, irregular, but I’ve never had any of the other symptoms. Perhaps a little fatigue, some bloating, but I never, ever, questioned my ability to conceive, not once. I feel like my body has betrayed me, that I should’ve known, and the guilt I feel is immense.

I’ve been told that I should feel a lot better in a couple of weeks time, and provided I rest and don’t do anything too strenuous, then I should be fully healed in about a month, and can resort to normal activities then. But right now I’m not sure what normal even means. Before this happened, ‘normal’ was being a woman able to conceive, to carry a baby, not someone who’s ability to get pregnant has been drastically reduced. That knowledge is like a constant ache in my chest that has refused to ease, despite Dalton’s unwavering support.

Truthfully, my head has been a mess as I’ve tried to process everything that’s happened, and whilst I’m grateful for Dalton, and his presence by my side, I can’t help but feel as though I’m letting him down. That I’m a burden.

On my third day in hospital, not long after Dalton has left to go and grab a change of clothes and a shower back home, I hear a gentle knock at the door.

“Come in,” I say, pushing upright in bed. I’m no longer hooked up to any machinery, or on any fluids, I’m simply resting. In a day or so I should be able to go home to finish my recovery there.

“Hey, you,” Lia says as she enters the room, her eyes soft as she smiles at me.

“Hey,” I choke out, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions in her presence.

“Oh, Daise,” she says, rushing towards me and pulling me in for a hug. “What an ordeal.”

I cling to Lia, grateful for the familiar warmth and comfort she brings. As she pulls away, she brushes a stray tear from my cheek with a gentle touch.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be here sooner," she murmurs, her expression mirroring the concern in her voice. "Drix was insistent he come every day, and I didn’t have anyone else to watch over Toby."

“I understand. Thank you for coming," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as Lia takes a seat beside me, her presence a grounding force in the midst of my turmoil.

"How are you holding up?" she asks, her gaze steady and unwavering.

I take a deep breath, allowing myself to voice the fears and doubts that have been weighing me down these past few days. Things I haven’t been able to voice to Dalton.

"I’m scared, Lia. I’m so sad," I admit, the words heavy on my tongue.

“I know. I know,” she replies, her words choked as she tears up.

"Miscarrying is painful enough, but the thought that I might never get another chance to have a baby... It’s unbearable."

Lia listens intently, her eyes filled with understanding. "You don’t know if that’s the case. You still have an ovary, and if you find that you can’t conceive naturally, there are other options, Daisy,” she says, trying to reassure me.

“Everything seems like such a mess. I feel like…” My voice trails off as I try to temper my emotions. “I feel like a failure. Like I’ve let everyone down.”

“You are not a failure,” Lia says vehemently. “And you’ve not let anyone down.”

“I’m supposed to give Dalton a child. If I don’t… Lia, what am I going to do? I’m worthless to him now.”

“No, don’t you dare say that,” Lia says, reaching for me and grasping my hand. “Dalton doesn’t see it that way. He’s been out of his mind with worry. That man does not think you’re worthless. Not in any way. Not at all.”

“But Carl will,” I whisper.

“Carl thinks you’ve had an appendectomy,” she says. “He doesn’t know. He won’t know.”

“He thinks I’ve had my appendix out?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Yes, Dalton thought it was the best thing to do given the circumstances…” Her voice trails off as she winces.

“So Dalton doesn’t believe I’ll be able to conceive despite his reassurances and everything he’s said to me these past few days.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. He’s just trying to protect you, Daisy.”

“Oh God,” I cry, hating that he needs to lie, that he’s probably thinking the same thing as I am, that I may never carry his child, that everything we’ve done is for nothing.

“Listen, don’t do that. Don’t spiral. Dalton cares about you so, so much, Daisy. Please know that.”

I swallow hard, trying to tell myself that the connection we have is strong enough to weather this storm, but the truth is, I don’t know if it is. I love him, and yet I don’t truly know how he feels about me. On our honeymoon I’d felt his love, I’ve felt it here in this room these past few days, but there’s a huge part of me that thinks he’ll decide that I’m not enough, that his feelings will change. Why would he stay with me now? He could lose everything he’s ever wanted, his inheritance, his lifestyle, his riches. Why would he do that?

“What are you thinking, Daisy?” Lia asks me as I shift in bed, trying to regain some control over my emotions.

“I love Dalton,” I whisper, clinging onto these feelings I have, hoping that’s enough whilst knowing that it might not be.

“That’s good, Daisy. That’s amazing,” she replies, her fingers tightening around mine as she gives me a gentle smile.

“But I don’t know if…”

“You don’t know if he loves you back?” she asks tentatively.

“Exactly.” I drop my chin, staring at our clenched hands, unable to look her in the eye. “On our honeymoon, I thought, maybe he did. But now… How can he love me now?”

Lia reaches for me, her fingers resting beneath my chin as she urges me to look at her. “Dalton has been here almost every hour of every day. He’s rallied around you, Daisy. That man has questioned every doctor. He’s made sure you’ve had the best possible care. He’s fended off questions from his father. He’s done everything in his power to keep you safe. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

“But this changes everything,” I say, my heart sinking. “Even if we weren’t bound by this contract, why would he want to stay with me if I might not be able to have his child? Why would I take his ability to be a father away? I won’t let him do that.”

“That’s not up to you, Daisy. You can’t make decisions for Dalton based on what you think he needs or wants. You have to trust his feelings for you. You have to trust in your feelings for each other, and believe in the strength of your relationship,” Lia says, her voice filled with conviction.

“You make it sound so easy, but we both know life isn’t like that,” I counter. “It’s not that simple, you know that.”

“You don't have to have all the answers right now," she says softly. "Just focus on healing and taking care of yourself. The rest will fall into place in its own time."

Lia’s words echo in my mind as I lay in the hospital bed, my thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of doubt and fear. All I know right now is that nothing seems certain. Not my future with Dalton, not my ability to conceive a child, and not his feelings for me.