Chapter 48
I have never felt morecontent than I do now.
Keaton is asleep next to me; my fingers play with the chain around his neck as I listen to the way his heart beats in his chest. If I could pause on a moment, it would be this one here. Always.
My eyes begin to feel heavy when my phone vibrates on the side table. Panic swarms me when I see my dad”s name flash up.
“Dad,” I answer, keeping my voice low, “is everything okay?” I squint at the time, it”s two thirty a.m.
“Amora is in labor.”
“We”ll be right there.” Cutting the phone off and placing it back on the bedside unit, I gently wake Keaton up after I am dressed and tell him to stay in bed. Of course he doesn’t. He dresses half asleep and with numerous yawns before we’re both stumbling down the stairs. He grabs his keys and phone, and we walk to his SUV. He traded his old car in a few weeks back and now we have a Jeep Grand Cherokee. It’s gray and looks pretty parked at the sidewalk.
The drive is short. Amora is under the same hospital as me and has the same doctor. Kyra. Keaton yawns most of the way, scrubbing his face.
“Tired?” I ask, my hand resting on his thigh.
“Yeah, some minx kept me up far too late,” he turns to look at me, eyes hazy and his lips slowly turning into a smirk.
“I think you had more to do with that than me,” I wink, his hand slipping between my thighs and giving my skin a gentle squeeze.
“Innocent until proven,” his voice is slow, sleepiness still thick in his tone. Yawning, he turns his blinker on as we pull down the side road towards the carpark for the hospital.
“Hmm,” I hum, leaning forward to grab my bag when Keaton slams on the brake pedal and I hit my head on the dash. Hard.
“Fuck,” Keaton shrieks, putting the handbrake on and unbuckling himself.
“I’m fine,” I lie. I’m not fine. My head feels like it’s split in two, throbbing pain at the base of my neck, head is pounding, temples ache.
“You’re bleeding,” I can hear the panic in his voice as I brush my fingertips up round my hairline and feel the wet stickiness coat them.
My intake of breath feels short.
“I’m fine,” I reassure him, turning to face him and his face is drawn, eyes hollow.
“Baby, I’m…”
“Keaton,” I place my hand on his cheek, trying to pull his eyes to mine. “It was an accident, please don’t worry about me.”
Thing is, he probably does need to be worried. I can feel how deep the cut is. Annoying when there is nothing to cause it, maybe it was just the force.
“Let’s get parked, I can get checked out while here,” I reassure him once more and he just nods, silent.
He pushes into drive, and within minutes, we’re parked up and he is throwing coins into the meter.
Walking around to my side of the car, he opens the door and takes my hand in his, grabbing my bag from the footwell.
He looks horrified.
I take his hand, linking my fingers through his as we walk towards the hospital, bypassing reception and heading for the labor ward. I can feel eyes on me, a few hushed words and I know the blood is trickling down the side of my face. Tugging the sleeve of my sweater over my hand, I press it to my small wound and keep moving forward.
“I am so fucking sorry,” his grip tightens on mine, “I think I dozed off,” and I see how the guilt suffocates him in that instant.
“I shouldn’t have made you drive; we should have got a taxi.”
“It could have been so much worse,” he whispers, and I know what he means. We could have crashed. One of us could have died. I shouldn”t have made him drive. The blame for that one was on me.
“I”m okay,” I stretch my fingers out beside me, desperate to have his link with mine but he pulls away, hand rubbing over his tired face. Guilt consumes me.
We reach the labor ward and my dad steps out of the side room and seeks us out instantly, happiness soon turning to worry when he sees my bloodstained sleeve, eyes instantly narrowed on the man beside me. His best friend.
“What the fuck happened?” my dad roars, and he is toe to toe with Keaton.
“Dad, I”m fine.” I step in between the two men I love most in the world and press my hands against my dad”s chest, ignoring the stained blood on my hands and I feel the trickle once more.
“You”re clearly not,” his brows pinch when he looks at the gash on my head.
“I”ll get checked out, but please can you just....” I exhale heavily, dropping my head.
“Fine,” his tone is clipped, and I can feel the way Keaton”s chest vibrates against my back, the low rumble of a growl present.
“Thank you,” I whisper, sleeve back against my head. “Is Amora okay?”
“Yes,” he sighs, his own head bowing for a moment, “slow labor, but she is bossing it. Just waiting on Xavier and Royal,” he pauses, his head lifting just as Xavier walks through the door. “Talk of the devil and he shall appear,” his voice is a low grumble and I nibble the inside of my lip.
“Titty, where is my daughter?” Xavier says as he owns the room, shoulders back, head high, back straight.
“Come, I’ll take you.”
“Oh, well, hello...” he pauses as he stands at my side. I slowly turn to face him, blink a couple of times then look into his eyes. Exactly the same as Amora’s. “Arizona,” he smiles.
“Hey.”
His eyes scan my face then lift to where my sleeve is pressed. “What happened? Are you okay?” his strong British accent fills the room.
“She’s fine, thanks,” Keaton wraps his arm around me, hand on bump.
“Hi,” Xavier rolls his eyes, shaking his head at Keaton. “Arizona, it was a pleasure seeing you again, but if you would please excuse me,” he gives a gentle but curt nod as he breezes past me and over to my dad. Royal gives me a small smile as she walks past, catching up with Xavier.
“Keaton,” my dad”s voice is loud as he walks away, giving him a look over his shoulder, “get her seen, now.”
I hear the deep sigh leave Keaton and I shake my head from side to side.
“Come,” he links his fingers through mine and walks me away and to the emergency room.
“Honestly, I think you”re making a bigger deal out of this than needed.”
“Ari, please. I am wracked with guilt; please can I just get you checked out? If not for you, but for my own peace of mind.”
I nod, rolling my lips and choosing not to respond.
We”re not waiting long until I am called forward and see one of my old work friends, Taylor.
“Oh my god, Ari,” her eyes scan over me, widening a little more when she sees my bump then they”re back on my face. “Are you okay?”
“I”m fine,” I hum, hands linked under my bump as twin B kicks away.
“How far along are you?” one of her brows lift as she gloves up.
“Thirty weeks, pregnant with twins.”
“Wow,” she smiles, “you must be thrilled.”
Is it wrong that I feel a stab of jealously course through me? This was my life. This was what I wanted. I love Keaton and I love my babies, but I miss the old me. The old Arizona. The one with her nose stuffed into a textbook. Not the one that swung round poles for a living and lost her virginity to a stranger off her cam app. Nausea rolls through me.
“I am,” I keep my answer short, eyes finding Keaton”s. I know he can read me. He knows exactly what I am thinking.
His hand scoops one of mine into his and squeezes it tightly.
“How did this happen?” Taylor asks and I hear Keaton about to answer.
“He hit the brake too hard at the barrier. It was open when we were pulling up but came down a little too quickly which caused my husband to hit the brake a little too heavily,” I laugh it off, my stomach tightening, my heart racing.
“Oh man, those barriers can be a real nightmare can”t they.” She shakes her head from side to side in a knowing manner as she examines the cut on my head.
“I have told him I am fine, but he wanted me to get checked out.” I throw my hand up as if it”s not a big deal.
“Well, he is right to have brought you in. You need stitches,” she pulls her gloves off, stepping back and furrowing her brow.
“What?” I scrunch my nose.
“It”s pretty deep. What did you hit it on?” she asks me, taking notes.
“The dash,” I sigh, my eyes looking at my bloodstained sleeve.
“Let me get you cleaned up then Dr Trent will be over shortly to get you stitched up.”
I nod. Turning to look at Keaton. His eyes are fixed ahead, jaw tight and teeth no doubt clenched.
“I”m okay,” I whisper, but he doesn”t respond. We just sit in silence whilst we wait.
Ten stitches later and an awkward goodbye with Taylor and Dr Trent and we”re back on our way to the labor ward.
“Fucking stitches,” Keaton curses himself and I know he will beat himself up. They even checked for concussion and pediatrics were called down to check the twins’ heartbeats. Both okay.
I want to fight against him, try and make him feel better, but it”s pointless.
We walk hand in hand as we round the corner and towards Amora”s room. I knock softly, letting myself in whilst Keaton hangs back in the hallway.
“Hey,” I squeak, Amora looks fed up.
“Hey,” she presses a smile against her lips, and I walk across to her. “How you doing?”
Stupid question, yes.
“I”ve been better,” she smirks, hands resting on her bump as she begins to pant. My dad is there holding her hand as she squeezes it and I”m glad it”s taken his attention off of me with my stupid band aid on my head.
I am not looking forward to this. I want to opt out.
Royal approaches from the restroom with a damp washcloth and she glides so elegantly over to her daughter, placing it over her clammy head. Her red hair stuck to where she is sweating. The moment suddenly becomes too much when I grieve for a mother daughter moment I will never have.
I step back, backing out of the room just as Amora”s contractions ease and that”s when my dad”s eyes lift and land on me, widening and I don”t miss the thunderous scowl that marks his face.
“Don”t tell me you had stitches.”
I nod, locking my fingers in front of my stomach.
He closes his eyes and inhales before breathing out his exhale nice and slow.
“Dad, I know you and Keaton have...” I pause for a moment, “issues.”
“They”re more than issues Sunshine,” he half laughs, rubbing his hand over his stubble and my heart throbs.
“You need to get over it.” my tone is blunt, and I hate that I”ve said that.
“That will never happen,” he shakes his head from side to side.
“Then get over me,” my voice trembles, on the verge of tears and his mouth falls lax with the words that have just spilled from my lips.
“Ari...” he chokes.
“It”s your choice dad.”
He stays silent and I give a sad, heavy nod. Turning I reach for the door handle when I hear my dad”s footsteps, his hand reaching for my elbow and pulling me to face him.
“He isn”t good enough for you,” his beautiful eyes bounce between mine and I feel the imaginary slap across my cheek, my heart plummeting.
“No, you”re right,” and I see the confusion on my dad”s face, “he is better.”
He is speechless and with that, I look over towards Amora and give her an apologetic smile. “I hope everything goes okay and I can”t wait to meet my new little brother or sister,” and I mean that. I am beyond excited, but I can’t keep doing this.
“Tut Tut Tut,” Xavier whistles as he enters the room, eyes burning into dad and that”s my cue to walk out the door and not look back.
Keaton stands as soon as I am in the hallway and I keep quiet, just walking past him and towards the exit of the hospital, him on my heels.
He keeps asking me what”s wrong, but I can”t tell him.
I can”t tell him that my dad, his best friend, thinks he is no good for me. Keaton will agree but that”s where he”ll be wrong. They”re both wrong. I meant what I said to my dad. Keaton is better. He makes me better. Wholly.
I love who I have become with him. Sure, things haven”t been easy. But I love him.
With every nerve ending, every fiber, every skip of my heart beat and every solid pump of my heart.
And that will never change.
Whether we choose to be together or not.
I will always, without a doubt, love Keaton Mills.
Cross my heart and swear to die, I’ll love him till the end of time.