Chapter 23
Poppy
I’m Gonna Love You by Cody Johnson
I’m standing at the whiteboard with Mr. Fisher, walking the kids through the worksheet, when my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I ignore it at first but then get a bad feeling, especially when I pull it out and see it’s Ollie calling. He never calls when I’m teaching. He texts, knowing I’ll see it on my break, and I’ll call him then. My pulse starts to race, and my goosebumps cover my skin. Something is definitely wrong.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur to Mr. Fisher. “I need to take this. I think it’s an emergency.”
He frowns and nods, concern covering his face. “Sure.”
I step into the hallway and answer. “Hey, what’s up?”
His breath comes through the line unevenly. “Poppy, I need you. I’m at the hospital.”
I don’t remember much of the conversation because my head is swimming with fear and possibilities and I always go back to the day Maggie came and got me at the school and told me that my mom died.
We hang up, and I realize I’m breathing heavily.
Nope, I silently tell myself. No one died. He would have said. I can’t let my head go there. I pull it together.
I poke my head back into the classroom. “Mr. Fisher, I’m so sorry. There’s an emergency. I have to go to the hospital.”
His expression shifts instantly. “Go. We’ve got this.”
I grab my coat and purse and head for the parking lot, my hands shaking as I dig out my keys. The drive feels endless. My mind spirals in every direction at once.
Everything feels like a blur after that.
Getting a call from your husband that he’s at the hospital and needs you is never something you prepare for.
Was he hurt at work? No, that can’t be right, he’s off today.
Was he in a wreck? Was it his mom? I am just flooded with worry.
What if he’s hurt more than he’s letting on?
What if he was trying to be strong but it’s bad.
Or what if one of the other firefighters got hurt?
I grip the steering wheel tighter and push the speed limit just enough. By the time the hospital comes into view, my heart is in my throat. Whatever it is, I know one thing for sure. He didn’t sound like my Ollie, who is cool, calm, and collected. He sounded shocked, upset, and like he needed me.
I pull into the hospital parking lot way too fast and slam the car into park with my heart already racing. My phone buzzes before I can even grab my bag.
Ollie: Come up to the fourth floor.
That’s it—no other explanation.
I jog inside, shoes squeaking against the polished floor, and hit the elevator button harder than necessary. My thoughts are already spiraling as the doors slide shut when I look at the sign and realize the fourth floor is Labor and Delivery.
Confusion slams into me hard. Oh my God, did something happen to Violet?
She just found out she’s pregnant. I replay every recent conversation in my head, searching for something I missed.
I don’t know anyone else who’s pregnant.
Not one person, and I don’t think Ollie does either. At least no one he’s mentioned.
The elevator dings and the doors open. The hallway is quiet and bright and calm in a way that makes my skin prickle. Nurses move with purpose. Somewhere a baby cries softly, and my chest tightens at the sound. It’s sweet.
I take a few steps forward, focused on the nurses at the nurses’ station, and nearly collide with Theresa Kendrick.
What is going on? I thought she worked in the emergency room.
She stops short, takes one look at me, and sighs, looking irritated and rolling her eyes. “Of course you came.”
I don’t even slow down. I don’t have the energy to argue with and I don’t have the patience. I want to get to Ollie.
“Where is he?” I ask, already scanning the hallway behind her.
“He’s in room 393 down the hall,” she says. “Poppy, you should probably—”
I’m already moving past her, ignoring her. I’m used to Theresa Kendrick dismissing me. She has for years. All I know is that Ollie asked me to come, and nothing else matters.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I walk faster, my steps turning into a near run as I get to the room.
Whatever this is, whatever happened, I need to go to him.
And the longer I walk down this hallway, the more I know one thing for sure.
My life is about to change. I don’t know how yet.
But something feels different. I stop dead in the doorway.
Ollie’s sitting in the chair by the window, his arms wrapped around a tiny bundle. A baby. A real one. Pink hat and small against his chest.
My breath leaves me all at once. “Ollie,” I whisper, surprised. “Whose baby is this?”
He looks up at me, and his face crumples. “My dad’s,” he says. “The mom left her here.”
The word hits me hard and soft at the same time. My heart swells so fast it almost hurts. Confusion riddles my body. I step into the room on instinct, like my body already knows where it belongs.
“What?” I stare at him, my pulse hammering. “Why?”
“I just found out,” he says, voice shaking. “I didn’t know. My dad had gotten someone pregnant. Apparently, he’s into drugs now and has nothing to do with the mother who left.”
My chest tightens when I really look at him. He’s wrecked. Like the ground dropped out from under him, and he’s still falling. No wonder he called me freaking out.
“Did you call Cami?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. I needed you first. To help me figure out what to do.”
Neither of us says anything for a while. The room feels too small, too quiet. He looks terrified. He wipes at his eyes and rocks her like he’s afraid to stop moving, afraid she’ll disappear if he does.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
That’s what breaks me. I don’t think. I don’t weigh it or talk myself out of it. I step closer and put my hand over his, steadying the rocking, grounding him.
“Why are you sorry?” I say softly. “We’ll figure it out.”
Relief fills his eyes, and he leans into me.
My eyes flick down to the baby in his arms. She’s so pretty. My stomach twists, fear and something else tangling together so tight it steals my breath. This isn’t what I wanted or planned. But neither was Owen. And I have had the best life with him and don’t regret him one bit.
I look back up at Ollie and force myself to be honest, even though my heart is pounding. But dang she is a cute baby. Seeing him hold this baby is doing something to me that I can’t explain or put into words.
I move closer. “Can I hold her?” I ask gently, like I’m afraid the question might break something.
He nods immediately, stands, and carefully passes her to me, hands lingering like he’s afraid to let go.
The second she’s in my arms, something in me shifts. She’s warm and light and real. I settle into the chair and rock her without thinking, my finger brushing over her tiny hand. She curls her fingers around me like she already trusts me.
“Oh,” I breathe. “She’s naked, Ollie. She needs clothes.”
He seems so overwhelmed that he lets out a broken laugh, more like a sob. “Yeah. I know. I didn’t even think about that. I don’t know what to do, Poppy.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, because it’s the only word that fits yet. “Okay. Tell me what happened. Where’s her mom?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “She left her here and told them to call me.” He drops into the chair across from me, elbows on his knees, face in his hands for a second before he looks up again.
“She needs us, Poppy,” he says. “And I know I’m just springing this on you.
I don’t even know what to do. If you want to leave me, I’d understand.
I know Cami and Jack will help, too. But I can’t risk her being left again. That bothers me so much.”
But when he says the last part, he looks at me as if that would destroy him if I left. That thought was never in my mind.
“Don’t be silly.” I stroke her cheek, soft as air. “You’re right. She needs us.”
My chest aches as I look at him, really look at him. The fear. The love was already there for this unexpected baby. The way he’s trying to hold it together for everyone else, like he always does. Only now he needs to be loved and doesn’t know how to let anyone in.
“You have always been there for me and Owen,” I say quietly. “You didn’t hesitate. You just jumped right in with me. And I needed you. I tried to pretend that I didn’t, but I did.”
“I know. And I love you both,” he says firmly.
I look down at her again and rock her gently. “I’m not leaving you alone with a baby, Ollie. We’ll figure it out.”
His eyes fill again. “You’re not?”
I shake my head. “I have about a million questions. I’m terrified and confused, and my heart is doing something really weird right now.” I meet his eyes. “But this is your sibling, Ollie. And we’re in this together.”
He stares at me like he’s afraid to believe it. “You’re sure?”
I nod, firm and steady. “I’m sure.”
“I love you, Poppy.”
“I love you, Ollie, always you.”
“Always you,” he repeats with a sigh of relief. Because that’s how it’s always been. No matter how hard life has been for us, we’ve always had each other. Ollie has been there for me through it all. And now I’m going to be here for him.
The baby squirms and lets out the tiniest sound, and Ollie reaches for her automatically, his hand brushing mine.
Our fingers tangle for a second, and neither of us pulls away.
My heart is all over the place. I feel scared, overwhelmed, and in awe.
But one thing is clear as I hold her close.
This is messy and terrifying and nothing like the plan.
And somehow, I’m exactly where we’re supposed to be.