Chapter 46
Ethan
Iburst through the waiting room door forty-seven minutes late.
Fucking traffic. Fucking Robert requesting one more player—a player who wants to leave—and I could use the budget for Niko, but then fucking Isaak Rossi wouldn’t stop complaining about his son.
He’s not my favorite uncle, that’s for sure. Luckily, he doesn’t plan to stay in the States and has someone else managing the team—if you can even call it that.
Another fucking mess for me to straighten out.
Aurora sits in the corner, twisting her fingers in her lap. She glances up, and relief flashes across her face. Beside her, Reece is rigid, his expression taut with anxiety. He doesn’t believe this appointment will go well—all the more reason I should have been here on time.
It’s my first day juggling everything, and I’m already failing.
“There he is,” Jackson calls out, too loud for the hushed room. “We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”
“Never.” Ignoring the curious glances from the other patients, I drop to a knee in front of Aurora and place a kiss on her belly. “Sorry, baby girl. I should have left earlier. I had to wait for an Uber, and traffic was horrible.”
The twins are with Lucas at his eye exam, and Rocco is in court. I still need to arrange transportation for our vehicles and belongings from LA—another problem for another day.
She gives me a gentle smile. “It’s okay.”
They delayed the appointment twice while she sat here. She has every right to be pissed at me, but she isn’t. She’s too understanding.
“No, it’s not.” I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “What do I need to do? Do I need to tell them I’m here?”
Jackson hops up. “I’ll do it.”
He talks to the receptionist, smoothing things over with a charming smile that adds to my irritation, and we’re called back.
The four of us follow the nurse—Kyra, according to her badge—down the hall, Aurora’s hand in mine, Reece’s jaw tight, and Jax buzzing with excitement.
Kyra stops in the hallway. “Shoes off, hon. Let’s get your weight.”
Aurora slips off her wool boots and steps onto the scale, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Before I glimpse the number, the nurse clears the reading, but it must not be bad, since Aurora releases a soft sigh, and her shoulders relax.
Kyra jots in her chart and leads us to an exam room. “Sit wherever you’d like,” she tells Aurora. “I’ll take your vitals, then you can change into a gown.”
She wraps a cuff around Aurora’s arm and presses a button. Numbers flicker across the screen, and she frowns. Behind me, Reece draws a slow, sharp breath.
“Let’s run that again.” She readjusts the cuff and gives Aurora a motherly pat on the hand. “Relax, sweetie.”
The machine whirs. Kyra stares at the display, then at Aurora. “Any headaches today?”
“No, just tired. I’m always tired.” She laughs nervously.
The nurse hums. “Any swelling? Nausea?”
“Some,” Aurora replies, the word clipped.
Reece huffs. “Her blood pressure has been elevated. Her feet and ankles are swollen.” He glances at our girl, his blue eyes hard with accusation.
“Mild headaches, dizziness when she stands, frequent nausea, and she has a history of fainting. Morning sickness has eased, though, and the baby has been moving.”
“And back pain,” I add. “She’s been having back pain.”
Aurora’s gaze meets mine. She offers me a tight, apologetic smile, and I squeeze her hand.
Whatever is going on, it isn’t her fault. Reece says her body craves sugar and caffeine for energy because her glucose levels are unstable, but what she really needs is more protein and fiber. When we get home, I’m throwing out all the sweets. Jax and Danny will have to deal with it.
Kyra flips to a new page on the intake sheet. “And your vision? Any blurriness? Spots?”
“Spots a few days ago,” Aurora rushes to answer before Reece can. “I was a little stressed.”
“Alright, let’s get a urine sample and have you change into the gown. The doctor will be in soon.” Kyra hands Aurora a plastic cup and points to the bathroom across the hall.
After Aurora and the nurse leave, Jackson leans in. “Not to be a drama queen, but I liked the place in LA better. They only have one kind of ultrasound here. Are you sure this is the top-rated OB in New York?”
His tone is thick with sarcasm. He’s being ridiculous—it’s how he copes and cheers up those around him. I’d reassure him more if I could, but I don’t have the energy. The air in my lungs feels pressurized, and my stomach is lined with bricks.
I shoot him a side-eye. “Dimitri recommended this doctor. Dr. Hill delivered his grandson. We don’t exactly have time to find someone else, and we’re not returning to LA.”
Reece shifts from foot to foot, arms folded across his chest. “You only need one kind of ultrasound—the kind that examines the baby.”
“What? No 8K-5D video?” Jax asks, being a snarky pain in the ass. “That’s disappointing.”
“Take one on your phone,” Reece snaps. “Do you not realize if Aurora isn’t well, Eli isn’t well? He probably weighs only two pounds right now. If something happens, he won’t survive.”
The room flashes bright white, and the building sways. My body feels both weightless and heavy. I reach out blindly and catch the counter to steady myself.
Arms wrap around my shoulders, and my senses fill with sunshine and sea salt.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Viking,” Jax growls. “Can you keep your blunt, traumatic shit to yourself? I’m trying to be happy and optimistic. Give it a fucking try. Do you think it’ll help Aurora if we’re all doom and gloom? Hm? If Ethan hits the floor?”
Reece grumbles under his breath. The door opens, and I force my head up.
The appointment continues in a blur. They take Aurora’s blood pressure several more times in different positions, then draw blood.
I hold her hand through it, but then I realize my skin is clammy, and she’s the one holding my hand, soothing me.
I’m terrible at this. I’m scheduling a vasectomy.
Shit, I’d probably pass out during that too.
They move us to another room to monitor the baby while we wait for the ultrasound. It’s set up like a bedroom, darker and more comfortable, with calming music in the background.
I help Aurora into bed, and once she’s hooked up to the machines, she falls asleep. Jax watches the screens and sucks on a Jolly Rancher.
We could be here for hours—we’ve done this before—but I can’t sit still. I pace the room.
“They’re going to put her on bed rest,” Reece says quietly. “She’ll hate it, but it’s the best thing for her and Eli. Her blood pressure is too high. Her lab results must be abnormal, or they wouldn’t be monitoring him so closely.”
I stop and face him. “Okay. So someone has to be with her. We can do that, right? Are you good? Are you going anywhere?”
Guilt flickers in his eyes. “No, I’ll stay with her.”
“What is it? Harper? Lucas?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ll let Rocco and Alexei handle Daniel unless Harper says otherwise. She trusts them.” He turns his baseball cap backward. “Aurora wants her grandmother here.”
Fuck. “If I arrange everything, can you travel with her? You know her medical history, and I’d rather she not take a med flight alone. I’ll stay with Aurora and work from home.”
I can’t even think about Jackson’s schedule right now.
Reece nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”
He doesn’t sound confident.
“What is it? Your partner?”
“No—maybe. I’m setting up a meeting with Bennett.”
Jax narrows his eyes. “Why? Just fucking quit. You don’t need her. You have us, and we rely on you. If money’s the issue, I’ll pay you to manage security.”
Aurora stirs at his raised voice.
“Shh.” I shoot him a scowl. “Don’t get her worked up over this.”
“I’m going to resign,” Reece insists. “Lucas too. We’re going to do our own thing—we always have.” He gestures to Aurora. “I can’t be fully present for her and the baby with this shit on my mind. I’d go above Bennett and never speak to her again, but I need to know what her motivation is.”
“True.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “Why is she gunning for the Rossis?”
“She’s not.” Jax shakes his head adamantly. “She’s trying to rein you and Lucas in. That’s all. She needs you. Fuck her—not literally.” He flicks his wrist. “No more knocking bowling shoes with your commander.”
Reece skewers him with a glare. “That never fucking happened.”
The door opens, and the ultrasound tech strolls in with a no-nonsense stride that seizes our attention. She sits on a stool beside the bed. “Mrs. Embers. Hi. Hello.”
Aurora’s eyes flutter open. “Hi,” she says softly, struggling to wake.
“I’m Jenna. I’ll be completing your sonogram today.” The technician scans Aurora’s bracelet and asks for her birthdate. “Which one of you is the baby’s father?” There’s no judgment in her tone, only clinical necessity.
I step forward. “Me.”
She keeps her gaze on the imaging screen as she types. “Any genetic conditions in the family?”
“Ah...none that I’m aware of.”
“Did your mother have any complications during pregnancy?”
My face flushes. “I don’t know. Probably—she was a drug addict. She’s dead now. Does it matter?” Real smooth. Not defensive at all.
“Possibly. Research suggests paternal genetics can influence maternal risk through fetal genes. A man may pass on susceptibility if his own mother had preeclampsia, which is what we’re testing for today.”
What did she say? I don’t understand all the medical jargon, but that vasectomy is sounding better and better. “I—I have no clue.”
Aurora’s brows furrow. “I was born prematurely. My mother was eighteen. I’m not sure what she had, but I can ask my grandmother. She might know.”
“I don’t have any genetic predispositions,” Jax announces, breaking the tension. “Except psychosis, but that shouldn’t affect the next pregnancy.”
Reece snorts. “You wish yours was next.”
The ultrasound tech smiles—thank fuck. “Let’s focus on this pregnancy, shall we? I think I have all the information I need. Dad, you should probably get your blood pressure checked.”
Is she saying I'm high-strung?
She spreads blue gel over Aurora’s belly. Jackson leans in, eyes wide, grinning like a fool. Reece moves closer, gaze fixed on the screen. Jenna glides the probe, and, within seconds, the baby appears, his heartbeat filling the room.
Aurora gasps and grabs my hand. “Oh my God, look at his tiny nose and lips.”
I squint at the image, my pulse hammering in my throat. “Is his head normal? It’s...big.”
Jenna laughs. “Totally normal. Babies’ heads are supposed to be big.”
Jax is glued to the screen, tears glistening as he points out every limb, every flicker of movement. He’s forgotten all about the video. “Look at his feet—they’re huge! He’s going to be a hell of a skater. Oh! He’s waving.”
“He’s not waving; he’s trying to suck his fingers.” Reece’s lips curl into a rare smile, his eyes lighting up, his tone soft with affection.
Each time I see my son, I’m in awe we’re having a baby—it doesn’t seem real, but fuck, I love him already.
Dr. Hill, a woman with a thick New York accent, comes in after Jenna finishes up. The ultrasound tech clicks through the measurements, and the doctor narrates her findings.
“Head circumference is right on track. Heart rate is good. Amniotic fluid is on the low end, but that’s expected with preeclampsia.”
Tears burn behind my eyelids. “Is the baby okay?”
“So far. He’s growing and moving. That’s positive.”
That doesn’t exactly sound positive.
Aurora sits up, her eyes shining.
I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. “What do we do now?” I roll my neck to ease the tension headache building. “What about the preeclampsia?”
“Bed rest and lots of fluids, and I’ll see you next week.”