Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The sun had barely risen over Los Angeles by the time the jet touched down. After nearly twelve hours in the air, I felt emotionally drained and empty.
Exhaustion consumed every part of me while the anxiety over Amelia sat like thick mud in my chest despite Titus’s text from hours earlier:
Titus: The baby has a heartbeat. No additional updates yet but John says everything with your sister and the baby is stable right now.
I must’ve reread those words at least fifty times during the long flight back to the States. Thank God, the baby had a heartbeat, and Amelia and the baby were stable. I think it was those two words—stable and heartbeat—that kept me from completely falling apart.
It was strange to feel so helpless. I’d never handled situations like this well. No control. No way to help. Just me sitting on a jet, wishing I could snap my fingers and be at Amelia’s side instantly.
The second the aircraft door opened, the cool early-morning California air rushed through the cabin as Wyatt stood and stretched casually beside me, as if he had slept peacefully through the entire transatlantic flight.
Which honestly? I think he had.
“How are you doing, carino?” he asked gently.
“I’m ready to get to the hospital,” I replied honestly.
“Then let’s get to it,” he smiled reassuringly at me, using his hand to guide me through the jet and down the steps.
Waiting at the private terminal below was a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, already running, with Titus’s driver, whom I remembered, standing beside the rear passenger door.
Thank God that everything about Titus Hawk seemed to run with terrifying efficiency. I truly appreciated that man’s ability to manage shit like this now, rather than judging him for it.
“Good Morning, Ms. Veléz,” the driver greeted. “Mr. Hawk asked me to take you directly to Saint John’s.”
“Thank you,” I answered as I slid into the backseat next to Wyatt.
The drive into the city was muddled together in a strange haze of exhaustion, anxiety, and adrenaline.
Wyatt was forced onto a business call the moment we pulled out of the airport, and I was certainly okay with that. I needed this moment to gather myself and prepare to see my sister. I needed to pull it all together so I could be a calm, reassuring presence for her.
Despite all my efforts to keep my nerves in check, it only took pulling up to the hospital to unravel them. By the time the Rolls pulled beneath the private entrance canopy at Saint John’s Hospital, my stomach was in knots.
Saint John’s was a magnificent place to behold. The massive building, made of glass and steel, rose above downtown like something from the future. Somehow, just walking through its doors instilled an immediate sense of calm, easing a little of the anxiety twisting in my chest.
Thank God.
As I walked through with Wyatt, I watched entire digital walls display patient information and calming visual displays while sleek autonomous transport carts quietly crossed parts of the massive lobby below.
Even at six in the morning, Saint John’s felt less like a hospital and more like one of the world’s most elite medical institutions. Which, quite honestly, it was.
“Cat?”
I blinked and looked over at Wyatt.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I will be when I see my sister,” I smiled. “Thank you for asking.”
“Understandable,” he answered with a sympathetic smile.
The second we entered the main lobby, several staff members immediately recognized Wyatt, then looked at me.
“Ms. Veléz,” one of the concierge nurses greeted softly. “Dr. Aster informed us you were arriving. Your sister’s room is upstairs.”
“Thank you, Jean,” Wyatt answered for me. “I’ll bring her up there.”
I glanced at the man and saw he had that same flirtatious look in his eye as he did with the flight attendant. Damn, this guy must’ve had a lot of fun with the ladies.
I followed Wyatt toward the private elevators as my pulse pounded harder with every passing second. Then the elevator doors opened directly onto one of Saint John’s luxury recovery floors.
Massive windows overlooked the Los Angeles skyline, while quiet lighting, private nursing stations, and modern suites lined the hallway, making it feel more like an upscale hotel than a medical floor.
Jesus Christ, this place is unreal.
My thoughts were interrupted by the overly lavish surroundings when I saw the familiar silhouette of Mickie Aster standing with her tablet next to one of the suites.
The second she saw me approaching, her expression softened immediately.
“Cat,” she greeted me gently, already moving toward me. “Amelia will be so happy you’re here.”
Without warning, the composure I’d barely held together across an ocean began to crack.
“She’s just inside here,” she pointed toward the entrance of a room, “and sleeping comfortably.”
I followed Mickie into the room, seeing Amelia look so impossibly small as she lay in the massive hospital bed.
Morning light spilled through the windows of the recovery suite as monitors quietly hummed around her, and the soft white bedding was carefully tucked beneath her arms as she slept.
My heart broke when I saw the exhaustion and emotional strain still written all over her face. For one terrifying moment after entering the room, I just stood there, looking at her.
Thank God she and the baby were okay. I had to keep that at the front of my mind so that emotions didn’t take over.
“Titus told me he already updated you on the heartbeat and that Amelia and the baby are stable,” Mickie said, most likely seeing me try to keep myself together.
I wanted to hug my sister so badly, but I also knew she needed to rest. The baby needed her to rest.
I brought my attention to Mickie. “Yes, he texted me during the flight back.”
Mickie smiled sweetly. “Good,” she said, glancing at the monitors. “I wanted you to hear the rest directly from me before Amelia wakes up.”
My stomach tightened again instantly when Mickie turned back to me and held the tablet at her side.
“She’s stable,” she reassured calmly, “and so is the baby right now.”
“Right now?” I asked, some fear that things could still go wrong. “What happened exactly?”
Mickie glanced briefly at Amelia before lowering her voice. “Amelia experienced what’s called a subchorionic hemorrhage,” she explained. “Basically, there was bleeding between the uterine wall and the gestational sac.”
I listened carefully, trying to force my exhausted brain to process the medical terminology.
“The amount of blood frightened her,” Mickie continued. “Honestly, it would frighten anyone. These hemorrhages can look dramatic early in pregnancy.”
“What caused the pain?” I asked quietly.
“The bleeding irritated the uterus and triggered significant cramping,” she answered. “Combined with stress, dehydration, lack of rest, and elevated cortisol levels?” Mickie exhaled softly. “It likely amplified everything physically.”
I looked back toward Amelia, sleeping in the bed. “She thought she was losing the baby.”
“I know.”
“Is that still the case? Can it still happen with this diagnosis?”
Mickie paused carefully before answering. “Right now, the baby has a strong heartbeat, her cervix remains closed, and the bleeding has slowed significantly since admission.”
Thank God. Relief nearly weakened my knees all over again.
“But,” Mickie continued gently, “the hematoma itself isn’t small either, which means she’s not completely out of the woods yet.”
I nodded slowly. “So how do we deal with this?”
“Strict pelvic rest,” Mickie answered immediately. “No travel. No stress. No lifting. No exercise. Likely modified bed rest for several weeks while we monitor whether the hemorrhage reabsorbs or expands.”
I almost laughed wearily. “Amelia doesn’t exactly know how to sit still.”
Mickie smiled knowingly. “She’s going to have to learn.”
My eyes drifted toward my sleeping sister again. “She’s really okay?”
Mickie’s expression softened. “She was very lucky Titus found her when he did,” she admitted. “The pain she was in, combined with the blood loss and panic, could’ve made this situation much worse physically and emotionally if she’d sat in traffic for another hour.”
I nodded, grateful that my sister mistook his building for mine and that he had just walked out and found her. He then went through all of this just to keep her safe and bring me back to her without any stress or strain.
“He stayed all night,” she added casually as she reviewed something on her tablet. “John finally forced him to go home about forty-five minutes before you arrived.”
That alone affected me more than it should have, but I needed to stop romanticizing what Titus did and focus on my sister.
“Is this an abnormal thing?” I asked Mickie. “This issue she is dealing with?”
“No,” Mickie answered. “I know the amount of blood and pain terrified her, but this is fairly common in early pregnancy.”
“So how long will she be in recovery?” I asked, relieved that this was common enough for Mickie to seem hopeful.
“I’d like to keep her for two days to continue monitoring her and the baby. Once I feel everything is stabilized and she can go home, she’ll be released with orders, and I’ll have scheduled a follow-up within three days after that.”
“Okay,” I nodded, my mind switching gears to how we would handle bed rest and appointments, with my hectic schedule already threatening to keep me out of the states for the next two months.
Mickie walked closer to me. “I truly believe you have nothing to worry about now. As I said, it was excellent that Titus was there when it happened.”
“Yes, thank God for that man,” I said.
A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Mickie’s mouth. “He’s a really great guy. It’s not surprising he stayed until he knew his driver had picked you up at the airport.”
“How’d he get home?”
“A man like Titus has drivers at his disposal,” she winked. “Listen, she’ll wake up soon to eat, and I’m going to finish my rounds before I go on-call this morning. You can rest easy now. She’s in great hands.”
“Thank you, Mickie,” I answered. “Please tell John thank you as well.”
“I definitely will,” she said, then turned to leave.
I had no idea where I’d lost him, but somewhere between me stepping into this recovery unit and seeing Mickie, Wyatt had disappeared.
I had to find a way to properly thank him and Titus for everything, but the second my sister woke up, and tears filled her eyes after saying my name in what sounded like pure relief, nothing else mattered.
I climbed carefully onto the bed, hugging her and holding her as she cried, holding onto me tighter than ever.
We would get through this together. That’s how we grew up. Just her and me, with all odds stacked against us, clawing our way through impossible situations. And this would be no different.
If it meant clearing my schedule until she was off bed rest, then that’s what I’d do. I’d take the financial hit. I’d even live off my savings if I had to. Whatever it took to make sure my sister knew I would always be by her side, even in the scariest of times.