20. The Bravest
20
THE brAVEST
VIVIAN
By the time preparations for the operation began, Paris was a bundle of nerves. They gave her something to help her relax, and she settled into her pre-op room, tucked beneath the blankets. Her curls were pulled back and hidden, and her cheeks looked unusually pale, with a small IV secured on her arm like a badge of courage. Even her fuzzy socks peeked out from under the covers.
She was far too young for all of this. Why did this have to happen to her?
Before his own pre-op procedures, the nurses permitted Richard to do a brief visit to her bedside, and the moment her face lit up, I knew a beautiful father and daughter bond unfolded.
He leaned in, his hand softly brushing her cheek as he asked, “Are you ready, my little explorer?”
With a slow nod, she replied, “Will you be brave?”
Smiling, he said, “Only if you promise to be brave too.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he held her tenderly, as if cradling something fragile.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Remember, we have an entire world to explore together soon. And Paris, there’s something I want you to know: even though we’ve only met this week, you are my little girl now. You’ve taken up residence in my heart, and I will always love you.” He tapped his chest.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered back.
Observing them, my hand flew to my heart, and I held it there.
I followed Richard into the corridor that connected their rooms. His turn came first—the surgical team would harvest his kidney before attending to Paris. I gripped his hand tightly, as though it were the only tether keeping him grounded.
“You’re going to be fine,” I reassured him, running my thumb over his knuckles. “The nurses are keeping Paris calm so that I can join you in the operating room and wait until they put you under anesthesia.”
With a low chuckle and a wink, he replied, “You’ll distract the surgeons, and I don’t need them making any mistakes—you’re too damn beautiful for this sterile place to handle.”
“Richard, seriously,” I said gently. “It’s my turn to be there for you.”
“Then go be with our daughter. She may appear brave on the outside, but inside she must be terrified,” he said with a faint smile. “You know, I thought that by April, once we’ve both recovered, visiting Paris would be wonderful. Spring transforms the city into something breathtaking, as I’m sure you remember. I’ll arrange for a nanny and tutor so we can steal some time together and perhaps walk down memory lane from the night we first met.” He kissed the back of my hand.
“Sounds lovely. But first, let’s get through this,” I implored, nodding as I forced a smile despite the lump in my throat.
His eyes grew somber and his voice dropped. “Vivian—tell her I’m the luckiest man to have known her.”
Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks, and I made no attempt to wipe them away. “No, you’ll tell her yourself when this is all over,” I whispered softly.
A throat cleared from someone on the surgical team, reminding us that time was short. In the final seconds, panic set in. “There’s so much I want to say to you, Richard.” It was so natural for our daughter to express her love for this remarkable man; the words were poised on my lips, yet my past kept them at bay.
He squeezed my hand one last time and studied my face as if etching it into memory. “You don’t have to say anything. Your eyes speak volumes. But I’ll say it—I love you, Vivian.”
Those words lifted my heart, and I kissed him through my tears as if it were our last farewell—just in case—while clinging to hope for more time together.
Once both were wheeled into surgery, our friends and family gathered to wait with me in our room.
Miriam and I talked as she showed me old photos and shared funny stories about Richard as a young boy. By age eight, he’d already had a custom-made three-piece suit matching Patrick’s, which he wore proudly as he shadowed his father at work. I could easily picture him—a tiny CEO in the making, already mastering his destiny.
Chelsea sat with me and held my hands for a time. “They’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. They’re Buchanans, after all. Their bloodline is incredibly strong. Rex once told me about his family, tracing back to Scotland’s history. They were survivors of the Battle of Culloden, and that fierce legacy gives them the strength to overcome anything.”
I managed a tearful smile and replied, “Then I call upon the ancestors to help them through this.” I sputtered a smile through tears. “They have to come out, okay? Paris is my everything, and Richard—he’s meant the world to me this week.”
“Who knew he could have such a big heart beneath all that gruff exterior?” Chelsea remarked, gently squeezing my hand.
“He told me he loves me.” I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue. “I couldn’t bring myself to say it back, even though my whole heart was there with him. Why couldn’t I speak those words? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you. Look at everything you’ve endured in the past—of course, you’d have some trust issues. But I truly believe you’ve captured the heart of a man I thought had long given up on love. After what Janet did to him, he became so wary of commitment. Can you imagine someone plotting to kill her husband for money?”
“She didn’t deserve him…” And I’m so glad. I couldn’t imagine the difficulty if he’d been married, then found out about Paris.
“Luck was with him to find out on his wedding day and call the whole thing off. Both of you have faced enough to scare anyone from committing again.” At that moment, she waved over Rex, who arrived, handing out cups of coffee.
“Thank you,” I told him, using the cup more to warm my hands than for the brew, grateful for any distraction from the constant stream of tissues clutched in my grasp.
“Anyway,” Chelsea continued, “my point is that you and Richard have a solid foundation—a great start. Don’t let him go, Vivian. Give him a chance. I have a good feeling about the two of you.”
Rex took a seat beside her. “Talking about my brother? You’ll find no one more loyal to those he cares about.”
I listened half-heartedly as their conversation drifted from topic to topic, eventually touching on her sister Maisy, who had returned to the science vessel for the rest of her research contract. Then Rex said he got a text from his friend Brooks, mentioning they’d spent the night together at the Plaza Hotel after Chelsea’s wedding. “It’s a shame when two people can’t see what they have right in front of him,” Rex commented. “Not like us, sweetness—we knew immediately that we were meant for each other.”
Chelsea laughed, lightening the mood in the otherwise somber waiting room. “You did, but you nearly ruined it with that first proposal of a marriage of convenience.”
“It took me realizing how deeply I love you to end up groveling on my knees. I persisted because I knew I wanted you—And what a Buchanan wants?—”
Chelsea and I finished for him, chanting, “—A Buchanan gets.”
He tilted his head and said, “That’s why I know Richard won’t give up. He’ll wait for you, Vivian. Now that he has a daughter, he’ll be even more determined to get who he wants.”
His words provided some reassurance. As we all waited, Flora brought out an apple pie to share, though I couldn’t eat a bite. She joined Keaton and me, and together we prayed.
“It isn’t easy being a mother and watching your child go through such trials, but you’re doing an incredible job, Vivian—keeping it all together for her sake. Just remember, Paris has many years ahead of her. I know in my heart she’ll make it through this, and so will you, because you have all of us supporting you.”
“Thank you, Flora. That means so much to me,” I said, and we embraced before I turned to Keaton. With another two hours looming, the stress of it wore on me.
“Come here, lean over,” he urged, draping his arm around my shoulders so I could rest my head. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Viv.”
Bravery was exactly what Rex had urged Paris to show, and if they could be that brave, then for their sake, I had no choice but to summon that courage as well. Everyone around me was so kind and caring as we waited. All I could do was pray.
For the first time in years, my prayer wasn’t for money. Or for miracles. Only for love to survive—for the two people I loved most in this world.
When the doctors confirmed the operations were successful, my heart soared with joy. They planned to keep a close watch on Paris to ensure her body accepted the kidney, and their report filled me with hope.
In the recovery room, the only sounds were the beeping monitors and the rhythmic thumping of my heart in my ears. I sat beside Paris’ bed, holding her hand as her skin gradually warmed. Eventually, her eyelashes gently fluttered open.
“Mommy?” she murmured.
“I’m right here, mon c?ur, ” I answered, kissing her fingers softly. “You’re okay.”
She frowned and tried to sit up, wincing as she did, so I helped her settle back against the pillow.
“Lie back. You need to rest for now, sweetheart,” I advised.
“Where’s Daddy?” she croaked.
The strong bond between them made my heart skip a beat. “He’s resting in his room. You both came through the surgeries very well.”
Her eyes slowly blinked, glistening with moisture. “Did it hurt him?”
“Maybe a little,” I whispered, “but he said he’d do it all over again, just to be with you.”
“I want to see him.”
“As soon as the nurses give the okay,” I replied, gently tucking a stray lock of hair from her forehead. I had been in his room when he awoke from anesthesia. “He’s been asking about you, too.”
“Was he brave?” she asked quietly.
I swallowed hard. “Yes, baby. He was.”
She offered a faint smile as her eyes closed once more. I watched her slip into sleep as if she were floating—her breathing eased, alive, and on the path to recovery.
Eventually, the nurses wheeled Richard’s bed into Paris’s room while she was asleep, positioning the two beds so close that I could stand between them and touch both. Despite looking pale, he smiled and reached his arm across toward her.
“How is she?” he asked as soon as I stepped between them.
“She’s tired, but doing well,” I replied, keeping my voice calm despite the inner turmoil. “Every time she wakes up, she asks about you.”
When Paris suddenly stirred, he softly said, “Hey there, my little explorer,” his voice still rough from the anesthesia.
“Daddy, I missed you,” she said hoarsely.
“I missed you even more,” he replied warmly.
“Mommy, I want cupcakes,” she whined sleepily. I wasn’t sure she even knew what she was saying yet, still under the effects of anesthesia.
“Believe me, sweetheart, when we get home, I’ll make you the best cupcakes ever.”
Richard squeezed my hand. “Make sure she gets the most perfect cupcake. I’ll settle for the second best.”
“Looks like I’ll have to make two perfect cupcakes, then. Challenge accepted.” I attempted humor.
The machines continued their rhythmic hum as they held hands. I moved closer, kissing her curls as she drifted back to sleep, then turned to Richard.
He looked up at me and whispered, “Thank you.” His eyes were tired but shone brightly.
“For what?” I asked, gently stroking his fingers.
“For giving me her. She’s the most precious gift. Listen, I want to talk to you about—” Richard began. I stopped him. The last time he sounded like this, he offered me his will and all his worldly goods.
“Shh. Just rest. We have plenty of time to talk while you both recover. We’ll have nothing but time for the next four to six weeks.” I kissed his forehead. “There’s one more thing I want to say. I should have said it before the surgery. I love you, Richard.”
“I know you do. Say it again,” he murmured with a faint smile.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. Thanks for being here with me.”
“You’re thanking me? I’m the one who owes you a million thanks. Now just rest.” I kissed him and stayed with them for a while as they drifted in and out of sleep and the nurses checked on their recovery. They had made it through this stage; the rest should be easier, and I’d be by their sides every step of the way.