Chapter 31 The Call
Life after the wedding settled into a rhythm. Mornings were chaos. Evenings were quiet. Waffle grew bigger and chewed three shoes. The children argued and laughed and learned to be siblings.
I thought we had left the surprises behind.
Then the school called.
It was a Tuesday afternoon. Rain tapped against the windows. Damian was at work. I was folding laundry when my phone rang. The caller ID showed Lily's school.
"Ms. Winters, this is Nurse Patterson. Lily fell during recess. She hit her head on the monkey bars."
My heart stopped. "Is she okay?"
"She's conscious and alert, but she has a small cut above her eye. We think she needs stitches. You should come pick her up."
I grabbed my keys and drove too fast. The rain blurred the streets. My hands were shaking on the wheel.
Lily was sitting in the nurse's office when I arrived. A bandage covered her forehead. Her eyes were red from crying, but she smiled when she saw me.
"Mommy, I flew."
"You flew?"
"Off the monkey bars." She touched her bandage. "The ground is hard."
I knelt beside her, checking her eyes, her pupils, her breathing. "Does your head hurt?"
"A little."
The nurse handed me a form. "Take her to the pediatrician. She'll need a few stitches. Nothing serious, but better safe than sorry."
I signed the paper and carried Lily to the car. She was heavier than I remembered, but I did not put her down.
Damian met us at the doctor's office.
He burst through the door, his face pale. "What happened? Is she okay?"
Lily waved from the examination table. "Hi, Daddy. I flew."
He crossed the room in three steps and lifted her into his arms. "Don't fly anymore. It's not allowed."
"Even with wings?"
"Especially with wings."
The doctor came in. She was young, kind, with steady hands. She cleaned the cut, numbed the skin, and stitched Lily's forehead with careful precision. Lily held my hand. Damian held hers.
"All done," the doctor said. "She'll be fine. Just keep the area clean and watch for signs of a concussion."
We nodded, relieved.
Then the doctor looked at Lily's chart. "I noticed something in her medical history. You mentioned she was born premature?"
"Yes," I said. "By six weeks."
"And her twin sister. Any health issues?"
"Rose has always been healthy. A few ear infections, nothing more."
The doctor nodded slowly. "With premature twins, we sometimes see genetic markers that require monitoring. Nothing urgent, but I'd like to run a simple blood test on Lily. And I'd recommend testing the whole family."
Damian tensed beside me. "What kind of markers?"
"Nothing to worry about now. But having a complete family history helps us catch things early." She smiled. "I'll send the orders to the lab. No rush. Just something to keep in mind."
We drove home in silence. Lily fell asleep in her car seat. Damian stared out the window.
"Damian," I said. "What's wrong?"
He did not answer immediately. Then: "My family has a history of blood disorders. My grandfather died young. My father had a mild form. I was tested as a child and told I was clear."
"But?"
"But I never told you. Before we got married, I should have told you."
I pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "Why didn't you?"
He looked at me. "Because I was scared. Because I thought if you knew, you might not want to have children with me. And then I lost you anyway."
I reached for his hand. "Damian, I had your children. They're healthy. Lily fell off monkey bars. That's not a blood disorder."
"But the doctor wants to test them. Test all of us." His voice cracked. "What if I passed something to them? What if I'm not as clear as they told me?"
I squeezed his fingers. "Then we deal with it. Together. That's what family does."
He closed his eyes. "I should have told you."
"Yes. You should have." I waited until he looked at me. "But I forgive you. Just like you forgave me."
That night, after the children were asleep, I sat in the yellow room. Lily was in her bed, the bandage white against her dark hair. Rose was curled beside her, holding her hand.
Damian stood in the doorway. "I made an appointment. For my own blood work. Tomorrow."
I stood and walked to him. "That's good."
"I'm scared, Ava."
I wrapped my arms around him. "I know. But you're not alone."
He held me tight. "What if the test shows something? What if I passed it to them?"
"Then we find the best doctors. We make a plan. We fight." I pulled back and looked at him. "But we don't borrow trouble. One step at a time."
He nodded. "One step at a time."
The next morning, Damian left early for his appointment. I took the girls to school. Leo and Max stayed with Eleanor.
My phone buzzed at noon. A text from Damian.
Results in three days. I'll be home late tonight. Need to think.
I typed back: Come home. We'll think together.
He did not reply.
I spent the afternoon pacing. Rosa brought coffee. Waffle chewed another shoe. I barely noticed.
At six, the front door opened. Damian stood there, his face drawn.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For shutting you out."
I crossed the room and took his hand. "Come inside. Eat something. Talk to me."
He let me lead him to the kitchen. I made tea. He sat at the table, staring at his hands.
"The waiting is the hardest part," he said.
I sat beside him. "I know. But you don't have to wait alone."
He looked at me. "Promise you won't leave? No matter what the results say?"
I cupped his face in my hands. "Damian Blackwood, I married you. I'm not going anywhere."
He closed his eyes. "I love you."
"I love you too."
We sat in the quiet kitchen, the tea growing cold, the dog asleep at our feet. Three days of waiting stretched ahead like a dark road.
But we would walk it together.