Chapter 35 Gabriel | Florence
THIRTY-FIVE
GAbrIEL | FLORENCE
“Just remember—commit to your line and don’t overthink it. Trust the wave, and you’ll be fine,” I say to both Koa and Maliah before I end the video call.
They’re surfing the legendary Teahupo’o today, and the swell report I checked an hour ago wasn’t comforting. They both need to stay focused out there, or else things could go horribly wrong.
I feel guilty that I’m not there for this one—I don’t know if I could have done it without my coach back in my touring days—but Zalea needs me more right now, so they’ll have to manage.
They don’t know about Zalea, and I’ve asked Zale not to say anything either. She’s only a few days post-op, and I don’t want to add any stress on their plates before they paddle into waves that could literally break their bones, if not worse.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I head toward Zalea’s hospital room, pausing outside the door to brace myself.
Last night she looked completely hollow, as if someone had drained the colour right out of her.
I could tell she was trying to be strong while the doctor was telling her about the risk of her pregnancy, but I heard her crying when she thought Zale and I were asleep.
I never told her what Doctor Ricci said to me privately while Zalea was still asleep those first two days.
After I filled her in on Zalea’s first unsuccessful pregnancy, and she was sent Zalea’s medical records from Saltwater Springs, she told me that things can go sideways fast. That hemorrhaging can happen and that sometimes we lose the mother trying to save the babies.
I haven’t let myself fully think about that sentence, because there’s no way I can survive in a world without Zalea. It’s not an option.
With a deep breath, I plaster on a smile for her sake and push the door open. Zale is sitting on the edge of her bed, hands flying as he tells her a story and Zalea is laughing a real laugh, her head tipped back slightly and eyes bright.
“You should’ve seen his face when he realized he actually missed that turn and the GPS was recalculating,” Zale says.
Zalea giggles. “Did he blame you?”
“He probably did in his head.”
I lean against the doorframe for a second just watching her. The colour has come back to her cheeks and although she still looks tired, she looks a little less broken today.
She glances to where I stand and her smile softens. “There’s my favourite coach,” she says.
“Hey,” I murmur, walking over and brushing my thumb along her jaw. “You look better.”
She nods. “Zale’s been filling me in on your hilarious road trip when you two came to see me in Varazze.”
“Happy to help,” he says with a mock bow.
A knock interrupts us and Doctor Ricci steps inside with a nurse and a portable monitor.
“Ready for your ultrasound?” she asks, smiling kindly at Zalea.
My stomach flips in excitement and nervousness as Zalea nods. “Ready.”
They wheel her bed carefully into the hallway, and I walk beside her, holding her hand the entire time. Zale follows behind us until we reach the imaging department.
“I’m going to hang back,” he says to me. “I’ll check out the cafeteria and grab food for when you get back.”
Zale might not be the brightest bulb in the room, but at least he has enough self-awareness to give us space. “Thanks,” I say, appreciatively before he disappears down the corridor.
Inside the ultrasound room, the lights are dimmed and the machine hums softly. The technician at the monitor turns and greets us, working with the nurse to position Zalea’s bed exactly where she needs her.
“Hi Zalea, my name is Erika and I’m one of the ultrasound technicians that work here,” she says, and I notice her accent is American.
She helps Zalea lift her hospital gown above her stomach, her bed sheets covering her lower half while I take a seat in the empty chair next to Zalea’s bed.
“Alright,” Erika says, turning to grab a bottle from her table. “Let’s take a look at those little fighters.”
She spreads a gel across Zalea’s stomach and then gently presses the probe down against her skin. The screen in front of us flickers to life in grey and white static and for a moment I don’t understand what I’m seeing.
“There they are,” Erika says as she smiles.
I stare at the screen and realize those two distinct shapes on the screen are the babies.
“They both look good so far,” she says calmly, slowly moving the probe. “Both have strong positioning and good movement.”
Zalea’s fingers dig into mine and I just hold on tighter.
“Because of your history,” Erika continues, “the doctor would also like me to do a transvaginal ultrasound to check cervical length and ensure there’s no early shortening which can be a factor in second trimester loss.”
“Okay,” she says quietly, but she’s gone completely still as she turns to look at me while Erika does the exam.
I keep my eyes on her face the entire time, brushing my thumb along her knuckles and placing soft kisses atop them.
“Great, your cervical length looks strong, no funnelling, so no immediate concerns on my end.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and Zalea does the same. Erika studies us both with a small smile.
“You both look like you might faint,” she says, a humorous edge to her voice. “I’m not really supposed to do this but would you like to hear the heartbeats?”
Zalea’s eyes go wide immediately. “Yes,” she breathes.
My throat tightens and all I can do is nod in agreement, watching as Erika adjusts the settings until the sound of static comes through. She repositions the probe and within seconds a tiny galloping heartbeat fills the room. She adjusts it again and another perfect, little heartbeat joins in.
Tears spill down Zalea’s temples into her hair as a sob escapes her. “Oh my God,” she cries, and I don’t even try to hold mine back.
My vision blurs and I swipe at my face with my sleeve. The sound of our babies' hearts is everything I thought I’d never experience. I instantly feel protective of them, more so than before, and I feel a newfound strength that I never had burning through my chest.
“They’re real,” I whisper, and she nods, crying harder.
Erika looks over her shoulder then back to us, clearing her throat gently.
“I’m supposed to wait until next week, but I can already see their genders if you would like to know now.”
Zalea gasps and looks at me. “I want to know.”
I imagine her finding out right now, but then I picture her stuck in this hospital bed for months without this moment being anything special.
She deserves balloons, and cake, and her parents even if it’s through a video call. I want her to have something special to look back on when she thinks of the day she found out what her babies would be.
“Could you…” I clear my throat. “Could you write them down instead?”
Zalea looks at me in surprise and a bit hurt. “You don’t want to know?”
I do,” I say, squeezing her hand in gentle reassurance. “But I want to make it special.”
Erika smiles knowingly and nods. “Of course.”
She turns our shared screen off so that only she can see the angles as she quietly confirms to herself. I watch as she scribbles on a small card, folds it carefully, and seals it in an envelope.
“Here you go,” she says, handing it to me.
“Don’t lose it,” Zalea whispers, half laughing through her tears.
“I won’t,” I promise, because in this envelope is our future.
Back in Zalea’s hospital room, I stand next to her bed for a long moment watching her sleep with her hand resting protectively over her stomach.
She’s been so tired since waking up from the accident, but Doctor Ricci reassures me that it’s because her body is still healing from the accident, and because the pregnancy is beginning to tire her out faster—all normal.
Zale leans against the window, arms folded, staring out over the streets of Florence below. He hasn’t said much since this morning, and I think it’s because the reality that his sister is pregnant again is finally hitting him.
I walk up to the opposite side of the window, facing him. “She told me how excited you were to be an uncle to Gabriella.”
His jaw tightens almost immediately as he continues staring out the window, but I see the way his throat works.
“I had a list of surfboards I was going to buy her,” he finally says. “Even though she wouldn’t have been able to stand on one for years.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. “I’m sure it meant everything to Zalea that you were that excited.” I pause, then lower my voice. “It would mean a lot to her, and to me, if you organized the gender reveal.”
His eyes snap up to mine, searching. “Me?”
I nod. “I want it to be a special moment, a happy memory she’ll be able to look back on when she’s finally out of this place.” I glance at Zalea, making sure she’s still asleep. “She’d want you to do it, and I think…maybe you’d want to, too.”
Zale goes completely still, his eyes glossing over as he quickly blinks it away before anything spills. “Yeah,” he says roughly. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”
Relieved, I reach into my pocket where the envelope Erika gave me is and hand it over to Zale. “Make sure your parents can join over video,” I tell him. “I want them there to celebrate with us all, as a family.”
He nods again, more firmly. “I’ll handle it.”
Before I can say anything else, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I frown, pulling it out, and see Maliah’s name flashing across the screen.
A cold feeling slides down my spine because Maliah has never, not once, not ever, called me, and if she’s doing it now it must be because something bad happened.
I excuse myself and step into the hallway before answering. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” she says, voice shaking. “Koa got hurt at the competition.”
My stomach drops as she tells me what happened and guilt slams into me.
As their coach, I should be there. I should have been there to prepare them for the conditions they’d be facing.
I had a bad feeling about this competition from the morning, and I still ignored my gut feeling, blindly trusting that they’d be fine.
I apologize to her. I know she’s probably freaking out inside way more than she’s showing because as much as she likes to deny it, she’s in love with that guy.
“Don’t worry,” I say reassuringly. “I’m going to use a wildcard to bring in someone from the team for the next competition. Koa needs time to heal.”
My first choice would have been Zale, but with everything going on over here with his sister, I’d have to be a cruel mother fucker to send him off for work. Not to mention, his head wouldn’t be in the right place, and there’s nothing more dangerous than a distracted surfer facing giant waves.
I decide I’ll call on Griffin because he has the experience of a wipeout mid-surf. He’ll know the right things to say to Koa to get his head back in the game. Plus, he can bring Eliana along with him to cheer up Maliah.
Once I’ve arranged everything, I stand in the hospital staring at nothing. Inside the room behind me is my future wife, carrying twins in a high risk pregnancy. And across the ocean, one of my athletes, who I’m supposed to be taking care of, is hurt.
I feel split in two, like I’m failing everyone on the Saltwater Shredders at once. Pushing off the wall, I walk back into the room until I’m sitting by her side, threading my fingers through hers and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
I can’t be in two places at once, so I choose this one, and I pray it’s enough.