Chapter 126 Meeting Her

Chapter 126 Meeting Her
Daylan's POV

I couldn’t think straight. The minutes had passed in a blur, and I was still standing in the hallway, pacing back and forth, trying to hold it together. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart, piece by piece. Every time I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, I looked up, hoping someone would come out and tell me something... anything. But it was quiet, too quiet, except for the relentless buzzing in my ears.

Brie had been taken into the emergency theater. She hadn’t even been conscious when they wheeled her past me. The sight of her, so pale and fragile, hooked up to machines, her breathing shallow… it was too much. I felt completely powerless, and the weight of it was crushing me. I had spent my career saving lives, diagnosing problems before they became fatal, but here, with the woman I loved and our baby, I couldn’t do anything.

I leaned against the cold wall, clenching my fists. Why hadn’t I done more? Why hadn’t I pushed harder for more tests, for better medications? I knew her condition. I knew the risks. How had I let it get this far? The guilt was overwhelming, suffocating.

A nurse approached me, her expression soft and sympathetic. "Dr Hart," she said, her voice gentle, like she knew what I was going through, "I know it’s hard, but you have to be strong. Brielle is in good hands. We are doing everything we can for her."

I wanted to believe her, but her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Be strong? How could I be strong when the love of my life was being wheeled into surgery, her life hanging in the balance?

I snapped before I could stop myself, my voice harsh and broken. "What if she doesn’t make it? Do you even understand the severity of her condition? I’m a doctor. I know what this could mean. Her pulmonary embolism could—” I couldn’t finish my sentence. My throat closed up, choking on the words I didn’t want to say.

The nurse flinched slightly at my outburst, but she remained composed, her hands clasped in front of her. "I understand, Dr Hart, truly. But you have to have faith in our team."

Faith. The word felt hollow. I should’ve done more. I should’ve insisted on closer monitoring. If something happened to Brie because of this, because of those clots, I would never forgive myself.

"I'm trying to," I said.

"You are a doctor, and you know what it's like to do your utmost to save patients. She will be okay, I know she will." She gave me a gentle smile.

Another nurse walked over, cutting into my spiraling thoughts. "Dr Hart," she said softly, "Would you like to meet your daughter?"

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My daughter. The words felt foreign, like they belonged in a dream I wasn’t part of. I swallowed hard, wiping the tears that had already begun to sting my eyes. "Yes," I managed to say, nodding stiffly. "I want to see her."

The nurse smiled gently and motioned for me to follow. I glanced one more time at the doors of the theater where Brie was. The thought of leaving her, even for a second, twisted a knife in my chest, but I knew I had to meet our baby.

As we walked to the nursery, the knot in my stomach only tightened. My emotions were all over the place. I was terrified for Brie, but then there was this overwhelming sense of anticipation, of love for someone I hadn’t even met yet. It felt like I was caught in a storm, pulled in two different directions at once.

We reached the nursery, and through the glass, I saw her. My daughter. Tiny, wrapped up in a soft pink blanket, her little face peaceful as she slept. The nurse stepped inside, and after a moment, she gently picked her up, cradling her carefully as she walked over to me.

"Here she is," the nurse said softly, handing her over.

The second I had her in my arms, everything else faded away. The worry, the panic, it all seemed to melt as I stared down at her. She was perfect. Tiny fingers curled into fists, her little lips pursed, her eyes closed as she slept. My heart swelled, so full of emotion I thought I might burst.

I was smitten. Completely and utterly smitten. Already, she had me wrapped around her little finger, and I hadn’t even heard her cry again after that piercing cry earlier when she was delivered. She shifted slightly, squirming in my arms and a soft little whimper escaped her lips. I adjusted her, holding her close to my chest, marveling at how small and delicate she was.

The nurse smiled at me, a clipboard in her hand. "Do you have a name for her yet, Dr Hart? We need to fill it in for the birth certificate."

I didn’t hesitate. The name had been in my heart from the moment Brie and I had discussed names. "Brielan." I said softly, brushing my thumb over the baby’s soft cheek. "Her name is Brielan Phoenix Hart."

The nurse nodded, jotting it down on the form. "A beautiful name," she said.

I stared at my daughter, unable to take my eyes off her. Brielan was a combination of Brielle and me, a symbol of our love. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and despite the chaos swirling around us, holding her in my arms brought a kind of peace I hadn’t known existed. But the peace didn’t last long. My mind quickly returned to Brie. She wasn’t here to meet our daughter, and that fact gnawed at me like a persistent ache. I needed to know that she was okay, that she would come through this. I couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not when we had come so far.

I kissed the top of Brielan’s head, her baby-soft skin warm against my lips. "You are going to meet your mommy soon," I whispered, though the words were more for me than for her. "She is strong. She is going to be okay." But I couldn’t shake the fear. What if she wasn’t? What if something went wrong in that theater? What if I lost her?

The nurse placed a hand on my shoulder, drawing me out of my thoughts. "Would you like to stay here with the baby, or would you prefer to wait in the hallway for news about your wife?"

I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave my daughter, but I couldn’t stand not knowing what was happening with Brie. "I’ll wait outside the theater," I said, handing Brielan back to the nurse with great reluctance. "I need to be there when they bring her out."

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "We will take good care of her. Don’t worry."

I nodded, though my heart ached as I handed my daughter over. I felt torn in two, wanting to be with both Brie and Brielan at the same time. But I knew where I needed to be. I needed to be waiting, ready to see Brie the moment they wheeled her out.

I walked back to the hallway, my footsteps heavy, my heart even heavier. I had to believe she would be okay. She had to be. Our family wasn’t complete without her.

The wait was excruciating, but I clung to one thought, repeating it over and over in my head like a prayer. Brielle is strong. She will come back to me. She will come back to us.