Chapter 13
Karissa
The first thing I feel is cold. Not surface-level though…deep in my bones. My head feels heavy.
I try to open my eyes, but they’re stuck. My body doesn’t want to move. For a second, I think I’m on the couch, coming out of a deep sleep, but then I remember…
The baby. Emma.
I jolt, or I try to. My breath catches. Something pulls at my side and stomach, tight and sore, and a quiet sound escapes me before I can stop it.
“Karissa?”
That voice. Familiar. Rough, but so sincere and comforting. Cody.
I fight harder this time. My eyelids lift, slowly, like they’ve been glued shut, and the room finally swims into focus.
Everything’s blurry at first. Lights. Soft pink walls, a TV in the corner playing a chocolate bar commercial—the volume barely audible. Then I see him.
Cody is sitting beside my bed, hunched forward, wearing the same shirt I remember him throwing on before we left for the hospital. His hand gently holds onto my wrist and his eyes are locked on mine, like he wasn’t expecting to see them again.
And right beside him, in a clear bassinet on top of a cabinet on wheels…a baby. My baby. Emma.
I try to speak, but my throat’s dry and tight. Nothing but air comes out.
Cody’s grip tightens a little on my wrist and he stands. “Hey. Hey, take it easy. It’s okay.”
My lips move. “Is she—?”
“She’s perfect,” he says immediately, not taking his eyes off me. “Healthy. Strong as hell, just like her mom.”
I blink, and tears spill down the sides of my face before I can stop them.
He shifts forward, wrapping his arm around my head and bringing his body to mine, not putting his weight on me but hugging me as best as he possibly can. He doesn’t say anything, like no words are needed.
The door opens then, and a nurse steps in quickly. She glances at the monitor, then at me.
“There you are,” she says with a gentle smile. “We saw your heart rate pick up, figured you might be waking up.”
Cody clears his throat and steps back to let them do their thing. The questions start coming out of my mouth. “How long was I out? What happened?”
Another nurse checks my IV and glances at something on her tablet. “You had some heavy bleeding after delivery, more than expected. We gave you a transfusion and let your body rest. You’ve been out a little over nine hours.”
Nine hours hits me like a wave. I look at Emma, sleeping all alone, wrapped in her little blanket.
“I missed so much,” I whisper.
The nurse places a reassuring hand on my arm. “Could’ve been worse.”
My eyes find Cody’s again. He tucks his lips and nods. Something in his face is different, softer. I’m not sure what to call it.
I know it could’ve been worse, but that doesn’t mean I’m not upset. So I just nod, because I’m too choked up to speak.
The nurse checks my vitals. I barely register the movements. I’m too busy watching Cody carefully scoop up our— Not our…my baby like it’s second nature.
“She looks good,” the nurse says after a moment. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. They’ll come check your incision and talk more about recovery.”
I nod slowly, still trying to piece everything together. My body feels like it belongs to someone else.
The nurse glances at Cody coming over with Emma swallowed in his arms. “I’ll give you guys space.” She looks back to me and smiles. “She’s been in good hands.”
With that, she slips out of the room, leaving the three of us in the quiet.
“Wanna hold her?” he asks, voice soft and low.
Before I even respond, he’s passing her to me and I take her into my arms. My stomach stings with pain when I shift, but I’m quickly distracted by my daughter.
She’s warm and so tiny. I almost don’t feel like I should be holding her; she seems too fragile.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s great,” he says.
I stare at her, taking in her features for the first time. She’s got dark brown hair, a little button nose, and thin pink lips.
“What color are her eyes?” I look to Cody.
“Brown.”
I nod and look back down at her. Tears well in my eyes. I shouldn’t have to ask someone what color my baby’s eyes are. Just that idea alone makes my heart feel heavier.
I didn’t even realize he could see me crying until he gently brushes a thumb under my eye.
I glance at him. His eyes are red around the edges.
Pressure builds in my ears and tears drip down onto her blanket, but I run my fingertip down her cheek, barely brushing her skin.
She flinches a little, scrunching her nose, but then nuzzles against my arm, her lips moving as if she’s chewing the inside of them.
Then I feel his steady, warm hand gently smooth my hair back from my face. The motion is slow, tender, like he’s afraid or hesitant to touch me.
“You scared the hell out of me.” His voice is rough, almost cracking.
“Sorry,” I manage.
He shifts his weight. “Don’t apologize.”
I study his face. “Well then…thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me either,” he says with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.
“Yes, I do. Some people would’ve told me to go back to bed last night. That I was being dramatic or overthinking.”
“I’m not some people.”
“No,” I whisper. “You’re not.”
Our eyes hold, longer than they ever have before.
Something’s different. Maybe it’s the situation. Maybe it’s my hormones. Maybe it’s the fact that this man has stuck by me through the hardest days of my life and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.
Cody exhales through his nose, gaze dropping to Emma for a beat before he looks away. “They kept calling me her dad.” He gives a small laugh.
I blink. “Oh.”
“I didn’t correct them.” He swallows.
I want to ask why, but I don’t.
He shrugs one shoulder. “Didn’t want them kicking me out of the room. Or taking her away. I told you I’d keep her safe. And I meant it.”
My throat tightens. “I’m glad you were with her.”
He nods once, jaw flexing like there’s more he wants to say, but he holds it back. Then he clears his throat, voice low and rough. “You really scared me.”
I nod, and the tears come before I can stop them. He’s said that twice now, and a guy like him, the kind who seems fearless, untouchable…I was wrong about him.
Before I can speak, he moves. His hand slides behind my head, guiding me gently into his chest. I don’t resist. I can’t. I lean into him. It hurts like hell, but I do it, pressing my cheek to his shirt.
He doesn’t let go as he carefully lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. Mindful of Emma still in my arms, he wraps his other arm around me.
We stay there. His heart beating steady in my ear, his breathing uneven like he’s been holding it in this whole time.
When he pulls back after what feels like hours, our eyes meet again. Both of us a tear-streaked mess and sniffling.
His head leans in just an inch, but then the door swings open.
“Hey there,” a nurse announces, stepping in with a tablet and cart on wheels. She pauses midstep, and her face blanks. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I just came to check on you and baby.”
Cody pulls back even more getting off the bed quickly, as if he broke some rule.
“It’s alright,” I say quickly, wiping my cheek. My voice still sounds like gravel, but it’s audible.
The nurse moves closer. “Glad to see you back with us. We’ve been keeping a close eye on things.” She glances down at Emma. “And she’s been in good hands.”
My eyes glance over at Cody, but he’s not looking at me. He’s pacing slowly around the room. He runs a hand over his dark hair before crossing his arms and looking out the window.
That’s the second or third time someone has told me Emma’s been in good hands. I didn’t doubt it the first time, and certainly never will. I just wish I would’ve been awake to see it.