Chapter 59 CHAPTER 59: The Moment of Truth
William
As we entered the room, Hazel laid pale on the bed, hooked up to a symphony of machines that beeped relentlessly. Her birthday, the day I'd poured my heart into making perfect, had morphed into a terrifying fight for survival. I held her fragile hand in mine. A few minutes later it twitched, jolting me from the little slumber that had crept up on me. I looked around but no one was around.
“Please hold me again,” I whispered.
As if on cue, her hand twitched again but this time she held me back in a soft grip. I lifted the hand and kissed it, my heart bursting with joy. She looked around, frowning at the beeping machines that surrounded her.
“William, "What's happening, I feel light and empty.?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
My voice trembled as I spoke, "You lost a lot of blood during the delivery, Hazel. The doctors... they're still trying to figure out why." she gulped as tears glistened in her eyes.
“Where is my baby”? She asked
“She is sleeping” I replied, not wanting to alarm her and give her all the details.
Suddenly, the door flew open, crashing against the wall. Adam stormed in, a tempest of emotions swirling in his stormy gray eyes as every eye turned to the door to see who the mad man was.
"Hazel!" Adam's voice was a hoarse rasp, his gaze darting between her pale face and the empty bed as he came close and knelt beside her, taking her hand in his.
The nurse hovering over Hazel frowned. “Please sir, you will have to take it easy, there are lots of patients in here who cannot have any disturbance” she warned sternly.
He turned to her, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so loud before he turned again to Hazel. "Hey," he whispered, reaching for her hand. You're going to be okay, Hazel. We'll get through this," he said.
I looked over at Hazel, and she looked shocked and uncertain, which got me a bit riled up, but I calmed myself and cleared my throat.
At the sound, he looked around and had a little look of surprise on his features. “I'm sorry I barged in here. I had called Hazel’s phone several times knowing it was her birthday, but there was no response, so I called Maria, who told me she was in the hospital.
"William, Mrs George" he rasped, his voice raw. I just nodded curtly, unable to tear my gaze away from Hazel. Her eyelids fluttered, and a weak groan escaped her lips. Her eyes, usually sparkling with life, were clouded with fear and confusion. Her lips moved ever so slightly, but no sound came out. Tears welled in her eyes as she cleaned them with the back of her hand. My own throat tightened, the unshed tears burning behind my eyelids.
“You are stressing her out Adam, I think you should leave” I said.
“Why should I leave? I'm her best friend”, he countered.
At that point, I had had enough of Adam and was totally pissed. Then I lost it.
“You are the major cause of this problem. Preeclampsia is caused by stress and anxiety during pregnancy and throughout the whole pregnancy, you have been nothing but a pain. Haven’t you done enough? Trying to break my family?” By this time my voice had gone up an octave and Mrs. George, who had been quiet and listening to us, stood up, and held my hand.
“That's enough, both of you. I expected better from you both” she chided. “I just need him to leave this room at this minute, nobody needs his pity. I was there, and I saw the turmoil my wife went through because of you”, I spat, pointing at Adam.
Then Hazel spoke, her voice barely a whisper. I got close to hearing what she was saying. She repeated, this time her voice a bit louder.
“Adam please leave” she whispered, her voice strained as if in pain.
Adam turned to her, his face ashen. “What”? “Please leave” she ordered. This time her voice was stronger.
“I will just leave my sample with the lab” he stated, then continued, “You’ve made your choice, now you have to live with the consequences of your actions” he said in a grave tone as I watched as his jaw clenched, and he balled his hands into a fist, gulped and walked away.
“Where is my baby”? Hazel said in a choking voice.
I turned to the door to relate the information to a nurse but as if on cue, a nurse, the one we met earlier at the NICU, wheeled in a fragile little thing with a wristband attached to him. Once Hazel cited him, she tried to sit up but winced in pain as a nurse rushed to her to stop her from hurting herself. The baby was taken out of the incubator and placed on her chest as she rocked his tiny frame, tears streaming down her face. She stayed that way for as long as the nurse allowed then the baby was taken out. It wrenched my heart when her baby was taken away. I moved close and held her as sob after sob wracked her body.
Hazel
The sterile white of the nursery walls pressed in on me. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool air, a stark contrast to the tiny bundle swaddled in blue in her arms. Ethan, barely a week old, mewled softly, his face scrunched in concentration. Hazel tried to focus on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, willing her own ragged breaths to calm.
The joy of becoming a mother was a distant echo, overshadowed by a relentless wave of nausea that threatened to consume her. Every coo, every gurgle sent a fresh surge of dizziness washing over her. She could not believe her premature baby had survived after everything that he went through. He was really a strong baby.
The birthing specialist, a kind woman named Sarah, had chalked it up to postpartum fatigue, but Hazel knew it was more. The ever-present ache in her lower abdomen whispered a different story, a story she desperately wanted to ignore.
"He's handsome," Sarah cooed, placing a gentle hand on Hazel's shoulder. "Just look at those ten little fingers."
Hazel forced a smile, her throat dry. "He is," she rasped, her voice weak. Her gaze drifted to the bassinet, where a stack of legal documents mocked her with their stark black and white. Guardianship agreements, paternity tests. Adam had wired a lawsuit to the hospital demanding a DNA test. She had taken it badly as her heart broke over the damage that had happened between her and her best friend. She could not believe how sour their relationship had gotten. A battle for Ethan's future raged beneath the surface, a battle she was woefully unprepared to fight.
"Are you alright, dear?" Sarah's brow furrowed with concern.
Hazel shook her head, blinking back tears. "Just a little... overwhelmed."
Overwhelmed? It was a gross understatement. Overwhelmed with love for this tiny scrap of humanity, overwhelmed with fear for her own health, overwhelmed by the shadow of doubt that stretched across Ethan's very existence. Just then, the nursery door creaked open. William had been her rock throughout the whole chaos that had been her life over the weeks. He walked in, his face etched with worry.
He took one look at me and his brow furrowed. "Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on my cheek.
I leaned into his touch, a small flicker of comfort in the storm. "Sarah said you haven't been feeling well."
"Just a bit off," l mumbled, focusing on Ethan's tiny fist that had uncurled, revealing a delicate palm. William’s gaze flickered at the bassinet, then back to me. "Any news?" he asked, his voice tense.
I knew exactly what he meant. The DNA test results. The key that could unlock a future filled with uncertainty or a semblance of peace.
"Not yet," I whispered, my voice shaky.
William let out a frustrated breath. "This waiting is killing me, Hazel. We need to know." he complained.
l squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of fierce protectiveness. "I know, Will," I said, my voice stronger than I felt. "We will. But right now, all I can do is focus on him and on getting better." William nodded, his jaw clenched tight.
As the day wore on, the nausea intensified. l spent most of it hunched over the bathroom sink, my body wracked with dry heaves. Sarah's concern grew, and finally, with a gentle but firm hand, she directed me back to bed. The world blurred as exhaustion claimed me, taking me with her into a fitful sleep. Images of the newborn swaddled in blue, of William's worried face, and of a daunting courtroom danced behind my closed eyelids.
l woke with a gasp, the harsh overhead light jolting her awake. William was by my bedside, his face etched with worry. "Hey," he said softly. Then the door swung open and Sarah walked in. "The results are in," she announced in a grave tone as my heart hammered against my ribs.
As the nurse handed me the envelope containing the results, a sense of dread washed over me. With trembling hands, I tore it open, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it. The moment of truth, the moment that would determine the course of our lives.
Taking a deep breath, I forced a smile and looked over at William, who looked as if he was about to pass out. The weight of it in my hands was almost suffocating.
With a shaky breath, I tore it open, each movement deliberate, yet trembling. And then, as my eyes scanned the words on the page, time seemed to stand still. A gasp escaped my lips, my world tilting on its axis.