Page 72 of Beau

Beau felt the air left his lungs and for a minute, he was frozen in place. He had wasted time not being here with her because of some petty issue. Because he had been selfish, thinking of his own feelings, of how he had never signed up for this.

“No," he whispered hoarsely. “I cannot accept that.”

“Sit-”

“No!” he cried hoarsely. “I cannot lose her. Oh God! I blamed her for putting us through this and I was punishing her. Now-” He groped for the chair and sank down weakly, his legs unable to hold him up.

“I cannot lose her. I have to tell her how sorry I am.” He passed trembling fingers through his hair. “I have to tell her how much I love her. Dad–” Words failed him. “I cannot lose her.”

“Hopefully, we won’t,” Blake said gruffly, alarmed at the look of hopelessness on his face. “I am praying we don’t.”

*****

It took several hours before they were able to hear anything. Beau let his father deal with the many phone calls from her sisters and friends as he could not bear to speak to anyone.

He had also ignored calls from Miriam, turning off his phone when she persisted. To think he had been with her in his office while his wife was in extreme difficulties. His demons were chasing him and guilt as thick as syrup curdled his insides.

He had left her alone, had shirked his responsibilities as husband and father to those babies. He could never forgive himself for that.

And if he lost her – he did not allow the idea to take form inside his head, because losing her was not an option. Losing her would be like losing himself, he wanted her back. Would do anything to touch her, see her spitting fire from her expressive eyes. Hear her laugh at his jokes and speak to him in that sultry voice of hers.

Have her touch him, in her own inimitable way. He wanted all of that. And he was praying it wasn’t too late."

He had gone to the chapel again to rage and beg God to give him another chance. Then he went back to demand answers, only to hear that she was still in surgery and the doctors will give him an update soon.

He felt as if he was climbing out of his skin.

“It’s been too long," he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head when his father handed him a cup of coffee. He could not get anything past the lump in his throat. “What the hell is taking so long?”

“I don’t–” They both swiveled around when the door was pushed open. Lucien was alone and the look on his face had Beau’s fear blossoming inside his chest. “No! No! No! Don’t you come in here and tell me–”

He stopped when the doctor held up his hand. “She made it.” Lucien felt as if he had been through the wringer. “The babies were delivered. Both boys are doing well, but the girl is tiny and is in the NICU.” He smiled thinly. “She is a fighter like her mother.”

“My wife, Georgie, is alive?” Beau lowered himself into the chair as his legs gave out.

“She is. Tired and spent, but alive and asking for you.”

“She wants to see me?”

“Yes.” Lucien smiled. “She does.

“Beau turned to his father. “Dad?”

“Go ahead son, I will see her later. I think I am going to take a look at my grandchildren.” A broad smile was on his lips. “Go and see your wife.”

*****

Georgie felt as if she was coming out of a long and deep coma. She had heard the good news and the not so good news about her daughter, but she was not going to worry about that. The little girl had fought her way into the world, and she had faith enough to believe she was going to fight to stay.

Her eyelids lifted when the door was pushed open, and she felt her heart slamming inside her chest as she beheld the man standing framed inside the doorway. He was a sight for sore eyes and the resentment that had been fueled by his absence melted away at the look of contrition and happiness on his handsome face.

“I don’t deserve to be in this room.”

“Is that so?

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his tan slacks, he rocked back on his heels. He had detoured and made a stop in the nursery to get a peek at his sons. They had been tagged with the names she had chosen. His little girl, with her creamy complexion and sparse dark brown hair, had held his attention longer.

She was so tiny, looked so helpless, that he wanted to gather her into his arms and shield her from everything that would hurt her. He wanted to rip the tubes stringing from her tiny body. And she was so tiny that he feared that she was going to break.