CHAPTER 54 - Smaller than expected

The days blurred together in a haze of sterile hospital rooms and constant monitoring. My body felt heavy, as though the weight of my fears and my growing belly had anchored me to the bed. I could hardly remember the last time I had slept without an IV drip in my arm or an oxygen mask over my face. My world had become a series of beeping machines and hushed voices, the only consistent presence being Grace, who had hardly left my side.

Jayden’s cold indifference continued to haunt me, but I couldn’t focus on him right now. I needed to focus on the life growing inside me, on the fragile little being that had already been through so much.

I stared out the hospital window one afternoon, the sun casting long shadows over the city. It felt like the world was moving forward while I remained stuck in this unending limbo. I could hear the distant voices of nurses and doctors discussing my condition, but their words became a blur.

"How’s she doing today?" a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned slowly, startled to see my father standing at the door, his expression one of concern.

"Dad," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on you," he said, his voice softer than I remembered. He walked over to my bedside, his eyes scanning the monitors hooked up to me. "How’s the baby?"

"Smaller than expected," I replied, forcing a smile. "But... still alive. They’re keeping me here for a while."

He nodded, clearly relieved, though his eyes betrayed a mixture of sadness and guilt. "I’m sorry, Daphne. I should have been there for you, for all of this. I’ve been so caught up in my own world, I didn’t even realize what you were going through."

I swallowed hard, the words catching in my throat. My father, the man who had always been distant and unfeeling, was standing here now, offering a shred of empathy. But I couldn’t let him off the hook so easily. The hurt was too deep, the resentment too fresh.

"You should have been there," I said quietly, my eyes never leaving his. "But you weren’t."

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "I know. I’ve made so many mistakes, Daphne. But I want to make it right. For you, for your mother, for everything I’ve done wrong."

I didn’t respond immediately. I wasn’t sure what to say. The truth was, I was angry at him. Angry for being absent, for not standing up for me when I needed him most. But I also realized that he was trying, in his own way, to make amends. And for that, I could give him a little grace.

"Just… be here now," I said, my voice quiet. "That’s all I need. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need you here."

He nodded, sitting down in the chair next to my bed. "I’m here. For as long as you need me."

The room fell silent, the weight of everything pressing in around us. My thoughts kept drifting back to Jayden. I wondered if he even thought about me or the baby. Did he care at all? Or was I simply a pawn in his game, something to discard when it was no longer convenient?

"Have you talked to Jayden?" my father asked, breaking the silence.

I clenched my jaw at the mention of his name. "No," I said, my voice tight. "He hasn’t been around much. He’s… busy."

I could see the skepticism in my father’s eyes. "Are you sure that’s the whole story?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked away, out the window again, my thoughts consumed by a storm of emotions. Jayden’s lack of involvement, his refusal to even acknowledge the baby, hurt more than I cared to admit.

"Maybe he doesn’t know how to handle this," my father said gently, his voice filled with an understanding I hadn’t expected.

I shook my head. "He’s never been the kind of man who handles anything. Not when it counts."

My father didn’t respond, but his expression softened. He reached out and placed a hand on my arm, squeezing it gently. "You don’t have to face this alone, Daphne. You have me, and you have Grace. And when the baby arrives, you’ll have your little one. That’s all that matters now."

The words were meant to be comforting, but they only deepened the ache in my chest. The truth was, nothing mattered more to me right now than the well-being of my child. And yet, the man who should have been standing beside me, the one whose blood ran through the baby’s veins, was nowhere to be found.

Grace returned later that evening, her face lighting up when she saw my father. "Hey, Dad," she said with a bright smile. "How’s she doing?"

"She’s hanging in there," he replied, his voice softer than usual. "We’ve talked, and I think she’s doing better."

Grace pulled up a chair and sat down next to me, her presence a comforting balm for my frazzled nerves. "I’m glad you’re here," she said to my father. "Daphne needs all the support she can get."

"I know," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I’m not going anywhere."

As the evening drew to a close, a strange sense of calm settled over me. I leaned back into the pillow, letting my eyes flutter shut for a moment, allowing myself a brief respite from the overwhelming weight of everything. The constant hum of the machines became almost soothing, a reminder that, despite everything, the baby and I were still holding on.

I felt a strange sense of peace. There were still so many questions, so many things I didn’t have answers to, but for the first time in a while, I allowed myself to feel something other than fear. Maybe it was because I wasn’t alone anymore. My father was here, Grace was here. It was a small comfort, but it was enough.

But then, the peace was shattered.

The beeping of the machines around me grew erratic, faster and louder, until it felt like my heart was racing in sync with them. My breath caught in my chest, and I shot upright, panic surging through me. The room erupted into movement as nurses rushed in, their faces tight with urgency. I looked at Grace, whose expression had gone pale with concern. My father stood up, his hand on my shoulder, as the doctor hurried into the room.

“Daphne, what’s happening?” my father asked, his voice filled with alarm.

The doctor didn’t answer immediately. He was focused on the monitors, his face grim as he quickly assessed the situation. "We’re losing stability," he said, his voice steady but full of concern. "The baby’s condition is worsening. The bleeding is under control, but the risk of further complications is too high."

My stomach twisted as the panic inside me grew. “What… what does that mean?”

The doctor’s eyes flicked to me, and I could see the weight of his decision hanging in the air. “We’re going to need to force the baby out, Daphne. We can’t wait any longer. It’s too risky.”

My heart pounded in my chest, and I felt a wave of nausea sweep over me. “But it’s too soon. The baby’s not ready. Please, there has to be another way!”

“We don’t have time for another option,” the doctor replied gently. “The longer we wait, the more the risk increases for both you and the baby. We need your consent to proceed, but there’s one more thing…”

I felt my throat go dry, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach. “What else?”