Chapter 30 Felix
FELIX
The hospital smell hits me as soon as I clear the ER’s automatic doors, and my stomach churns hard enough that I have to pause just inside the doors to get my bearings.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Skylark Community Hospital is relatively small, but it felt like miles from the parking lot to this moment.
“Felix.” Sadie stops pacing when she sees me.
Her voice is tight, and she looks like she’s been running her hands through her hair for the past hour.
“She’s still in the exam room. They haven’t told me anything yet because I’m not—” She waves her hand in frustration.
“She went back on her own about twenty minutes ago.”
“Is she okay? Is the baby—”
“I don’t know.” My sister-in-law’s eyes are red-rimmed. “She tried so hard to stay calm in the car, but I could tell she’s scared. If something happens to this baby—”
“I’m going to get to her.” I grab Sadie’s shoulders, to steady myself as much as to comfort her. “No matter what, we’re going to get through this.”
“You better mean that.” There’s a warning in her voice, but also a soft thread of approval. “She loves you, Felix. Even when you’re a complete idiot, she loves you.”
“Not half as much as I love her.” I give Sadie a quick hug that I hope conveys everything I can’t say right now, and charge toward the information desk. The young woman behind it has pink hair, matching cotton-candy-colored scrubs, and is snapping her gum like she’s getting paid per pop.
“I need to see Piper Hart.” My voice is rough but sounds steadier than I feel.
She looks up from her computer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assesses me. “Are you her husband?”
“I’m going to be.” The words tumble out before I can think about them. “I’m her person. She’s mine. And I’m the father of her—”
“Holy shit, you’re Felix Barlowe.”
I turn toward the new voice. A man in his fifties with wire-rim glasses and a completely bald head that gleams under the fluorescent lights has appeared behind the desk. His expression vacillates between professional concern and the kind of starry-eyed recognition I’m used to.
“I am.” I manage a smile despite the terror clawing at my insides. “And I’ve got two fifty-yard-line tickets to the Grizzlies’ home opener if you get me to my woman in the next thirty seconds.”
The girl with the pink hair looks between us, clearly shocked. “Doctor—” she starts, but he shakes his head.
“What’s the patient’s name and room number?”
“Piper Hart,” I supply.
“Exam room four,” the receptionist adds. “But—”
“I’ve got this, Holly. Buzz him in.”
She looks reluctant, her hand hovering over the button like she’s not sure whether to follow protocol or her boss. Finally, she does what the doctor says, and the security door clicks open.
He leads me down a hallway lined with partially closed doors. The walls are painted a pale yellow that I’m sure is meant to be calming, but does nothing to relax me amid the beeping of monitors and quick, solid footfalls on the linoleum floor.
He stops in front of a metal sign that designates room four. “Here it is.” He turns to face me. “For what it’s worth, you don’t have to—”
“You’re getting those tickets,” I tell him. “Club level if I can swing it.”
He claps me on the shoulder before heading back the way we came. I watch him go, then turn to face the door, hand hovering over the handle.
Piper Hart threw a shoe at my head a month ago and made me fall in love with her in the weeks after.
She’s the mother of my child, and the person who makes me want to be better than I ever thought I could be.
She’s alone in this room, quite possibly scared out of her mind, and I’m the reason she’s in here.
Not directly, maybe. But the stress of the past few weeks, the uncertainty about us, the way I’ve handled Ellie…
This is on me.
I take a breath, then another. I’m not selfish, although I can definitely be bullheaded and stubborn. More than occasionally obtuse when it comes to matters of the heart. But I know how to love. Or I’m damn well ready to figure it out at least. If Piper will give me another chance.
I push open the door, and my knees nearly buckle when I see her in the hospital bed.
Her eyes are closed, her face pale against the white pillow.
A wire trails from under the thin hospital gown she’s wearing, connecting to a monitor at her bedside.
The steady beeping of the machine fills the room, and I cling to that rhythm like a lifeline.
Steady has to be good. For both of them.
As if sensing the weight of my stare, her eyes flutter open. For a second, I’m lost in the pale hazel shade that’s become my favorite. When they focus on me, I see surprise flash across her face, followed by a flicker of tenderness that nearly buckles my knees all over again.
“Hey,” I whisper, my voice so thick it’s barely recognizable. “Are you okay? Is the baby—”
She smiles, and it’s like the sun breaking through clouds. Her hand moves to rest on her stomach in a protective gesture I’ve seen her do a hundred times.
“The baby’s fine. Strong heartbeat.” She points to the screen, where a small number pulses steadily. “They want me to stay hooked up for a little while longer to keep monitoring the vitals, but the doctor thinks it was just a mix of dehydration and...” She pauses, then grimaces slightly. “Stress.”
The relief that washes over me is so intense I can’t keep my feet under me anymore. I stagger forward and drop to my knees beside her bed, reaching for her hand like it’s the only thing keeping me anchored to the earth.
“I’m sorry.” The words scrape out of me. “I’m so sorry, Piper. Sorrier than you’ll ever know for putting you through this.”
“Felix—”
“No, let me finish. Please.” I press my lips to her knuckles, then look up at her.
“I’m keeping Ellie. I made the decision in my heart the moment I got the message from the attorney saying he’d tracked down Julie’s aunt.
Giving her up was what I thought would be best for her, but I was wrong.
She’s mine. Ours.” I swallow hard. “At least, that’s my hope.
You were right about all of it. Troy and Julie picked me for a reason, and I’m going to spend every day trying to be worthy of that little girl and their faith in me. ”
Her brow furrows with confusion. “What about Nancy?”
“We talked, and she knows Ellie is staying in Colorado with me. I want Nancy to be part of her great-niece’s life, but Ellie is my daughter now. Ours, if you’ll have us.”
A tear slips down Piper’s cheek, and she swipes at it with her free hand. “Stupid hormones,” she mutters. “Men hate it when women cry.”
Despite everything, I feel the corner of my mouth quirk up. “We’ve talked about this. You are well aware that I cry at every sappy Super Bowl commercial. Remember the Budweiser one with the Clydesdale and the puppy?”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I mean it.” I squeeze her hand tighter.
“I’ll supply all the tissues you need, Hart.
But I hate that I made you cry. Most of all, I hate that I gave you a reason to doubt my feelings.
I should have told you sooner, and hope to hell it’s not too late.
” I stare into her eyes, hoping she can see everything she means to me in mine. “I fucking love you, Piper Hart.”
She makes a sound that’s half laugh, half sob. “Felix—”
“I love that you’re beautiful inside and out.
I love that you’re stubborn as hell and refuse to let anyone take care of you, even when you deserve it.
I love that you have amazing aim when you’re throwing shit at my head.
I love that you have the patience to read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom on repeat even though it’s the most annoying book ever. ”
“I’d argue for Moo, Baa, La, La, La,” she says with a soft laugh. “But we can agree to disagree.”
“That’s fine with me,” I tell her and turn her hand to press a kiss to the center of her palm. “Because you’re my favorite person to disagree with. My favorite person, full stop.”
She’s really smiling now, but I can see the doubt warring with hope in her eyes. She’s been hurt before and doesn’t trust easily, and I’ve given her plenty of reasons not to trust me.
“If this is about the baby—” she starts.
“It’s about you and me. The baby is part of it now, absolutely.
I already love our kid more than I ever dreamed possible, and I haven’t even met them yet.
” I shift closer, and my knees protest against the hard hospital floor, but I couldn’t care less.
“It’s also not about me taking care of you because I think you need rescuing.
I want the honor of taking care of you because I already know it will be the best thing I do with my life.
Better than any catch or contract. You, Piper. You’re my Super Bowl ring.”
She snorts and wipes at her cheeks again. “That’s the cheesiest line ever.”
I shrug. “Yeah, well, I’m not great with words.
I know exactly what to do with a football.
Ask me to talk about my feelings, and I’m basically an idiot with one too many concussions.
” I take a breath. “But it’s all true. I understand if you need time.
I’ve broken your trust, and the truth is, you’re more than capable of handling life on your own. I’ve seen—”
Piper shakes her head, and for a terrible gut-wrenching moment, I think she’s going to tell me to leave. But then I notice that the tears shining in her eyes don’t look like sad ones.
“You big, beautiful idiot.” She links our fingers together.
“It’s taken me way too long to figure out, but I don’t want to do it on my own, either.
I had to prove I was strong, and I thought that meant not needing anyone.
But real strength—real love—means opening up and being willing to stand with someone.
To lean on them when you need to, and be steady for them when they need you. ”