that was already broken and bleeding?
His heart shattered and guilt washed over him. Reagan had done this on her own. He hadn’t been there. He’d failed her. He’d failed them both.
All Kainan could do was turn and leave.
His heart was breaking along with his son’s.
THERE WAS SUCH a flurry of activity that Reagan forgot Kainan had followed her in. When Peter was stable again, and she’d spoken to the doctors, she turned to introduce Kainan to Peter’s team. But Kainan had slipped out.
Where did he go?
That was her first thought, and then she was disappointed that he’d left. He hadn’t even come over to the incubator. She’d lifted the blanket and he’d looked once, before she’d turned her attention to the nurse. Then she’d drowned out everything else. Her main focus had been her son.
With every day that she stepped through those doors, rinsing her hands, a deep, dark part of her told her over and over again that any future with her son became darker and darker.
The other part of her—the part that had sustained her since she’d found out she was carrying Kainan’s child—told her not to give up hope.
To keep going.
To be strong.
To drown out everything else and pour all that she had into her son.
And that was what she did. Day after day since he was born.
She had no other choice.
So she hadn’t noticed when Kainan had left because he’d never been there before. She was used to being on her own.
Reagan turned back to Sophie, Peter’s nurse in the PCCU. “I’m only a text away.”
Sophie nodded. “Sorry for dragging you away from your work. I know your first priority is to work with the new Hermosian doctor.”
“My first priority is Peter. Always.”
Reagan smiled and gave Sophie’s arm a squeeze. She wanted to tell Sophie that Kainan was Peter’s father, but she couldn’t really form the words. Like Sophie, everyone in the hospital had been told that Peter’s father was dead.
And that was not the case.
Kainan was alive. He’d have rights over Peter. She would no longer be in complete control. Kainan would have a say, and that made her nervous. Kainan might return to Isla Hermosa. What if he wanted to take Peter with him?
Don’t think about it now.
She didn’t want to make herself sick with worry.
“You okay, Reagan?” Sophie asked.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’ll swing by later, Sophie, if I don’t hear from you before then.”
“Okay, Reagan.”
Sophie turned back to the incubator and Reagan sent a mental kiss to her boy, since at the moment she couldn’t actually kiss him. She’d only kissed him once, before he was intubated.
Her heart ached at the thought that maybe she’d never be able to really kiss him, see his eyes open and look at her in wonder.
Focus. Find Kainan.
Once she was out of the PCCU she peeled off the disposable gown and mask, tossing them in the nearest receptacle. She was contemplating how she was going to page Kainan when she saw that he was pacing at the end of a dead-end hall near the PCCU.
All the annoyance and anger she’d briefly had for him walking out on their son melted away. She put herself in Kainan’s shoes. He’d just learned he had a son and that same son was gravely ill.
She remembered how she’d felt when she’d found out that Peter was so ill. When they’d whisked him away from her. When she hadn’t heard any wail when he was born and she’d been left alone.
Still, he had left.
“You left?” she said gently.
Kainan’s dark eyes were a bit wild, and he ran his hand through his thick, dark curls. He nodded and signed, Sorry.
“It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you better.”
Hard to prepare for that. Hard to prepare for learning about a son you never knew you had. He closed his eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I will be fine. The question is, are you? Are you okay?
The question took her aback, because she wasn’t fine. How could she be fine? Her son was ill, Kainan was alive, and she needed sleep. No, she wasn’t fine.
“I’m okay.” Liar. “I should’ve told you sooner.”
You didn’t even know I was alive until earlier today.
“True.”
They both smiled then, and a bit of the tension melted away.
What’s wrong with him? Kainan signed finally. You said before, but...
“Cardiomyopathy.” The word stuck in her throat. She rarely said it out loud, because if she said it out loud it became real. And she didn’t want it to be real.
She was deluding herself. It was very real—and scary.
At least she didn’t have to explain what cardiomyopathy was to Kainan. He understood the gravity of the situation.
Is he on the transplant list?
“Yes. We’re waiting.”
How terrible for you. How do you do it?
A spark of anger flared up in her. It was an innocent enough remark, but it had cut her to the quick.
How do you do it?
How could she not? There was really no choice in the matter. Just one foot in front of the other.
“There’s no choice,” she said wearily.
No. I suppose not. Kainan scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t sign anything else.
Reagan was waiting for him to sign I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Or Let me help, but he didn’t offer any of these things.
Instead he signed, Is he stable now? Can we get back to work?
It was a slap to the face—but then again a lot of stuff had happened to Kainan in a very short span of time. Still, he hadn’t even asked their son’s name.
Don’t take it personally. It’s a lot to process.
She’d been disappointed before. Countless times, when her parents had been too busy for her.
“I need help, Mom. Please. I’m tired and Peter is sick...”
“It was your choice to have the baby, Reagan. I told you to get rid of it.”
Her mother’s callous words still haunted her.
What’s wrong? Kainan signed.
“Nothing.”
Your expression says otherwise.
“He’s stable,” she said, answering Kainan and yet ignoring his questioning.
Good.
There was a hint of relief on his face, but only a brief hint. Reagan hoped it was in regard to their son, but again she’d been disappointed before.
“Let’s get back to Michael’s office and we’ll go through everything,” she offered.
Kainan nodded and fell into step beside her. There was silence between them,