CHAPTER 57 - “Please, baby, please be okay”

I didn’t want to hear Jayden’s apologies anymore. I didn’t want to deal with the mess. The hurt. The anger. The betrayal. The guilt. It all seemed so overwhelming, so suffocating, that it was easier to block it out. I couldn’t fix anything with him right now. My focus had to be on something else. Someone else. Someone who needed me more than he did.

The nursery was the one place that made sense to me now, the one place where I didn’t feel lost in a sea of confusion and hurt. The soft, rhythmic beeping of the monitors, the sterile scent of antiseptic, the quiet shuffle of nurses as they moved between the babies, all of it faded into the background as I approached the glass. My baby was still there, still fighting, though so small, so fragile. I could barely stand to look at her, at the delicate form connected to the machines that were helping her survive. But I couldn’t look away either. She was mine. My responsibility. I needed to be here.

I placed my hand against the cool glass, pressing my palm flat against it as if I could somehow transfer the warmth of my touch to her. Her tiny chest rose and fell with the rhythm of the machines, and a pang of helplessness struck me deep in my chest. I wanted to hold her. To protect her. To take away the pain and the fear and the uncertainty.

“Please, baby, please be okay,” I whispered, my voice shaky. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to say those words until they left my lips, a prayer, a plea for mercy, for her survival. My heart ached with the weight of the words.

Jayden had followed me into the nursery, I could feel his presence at the edge of my awareness, but I refused to turn around, to acknowledge him. Right now, he was just a shadow, nothing more. I couldn’t let him distract me from the one thing that mattered most.

I stood there for a long time, my eyes never leaving my child, even as Jayden shifted restlessly behind me. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I wasn’t ready for words. Not yet.

It was only when the nurse came in to check on the baby that I left the nursery. My eyes were tired, my body heavy from the strain of everything. The weight of everything. But I couldn’t stay in the nursery all day. I had to face reality. Jayden was still here. I didn’t want to think about him. I didn’t want to think about anything other than my baby. But life didn’t give you the luxury of avoidance forever.

I wheeled myself back to the room, taking slow, steady breaths. The silence was deafening as we made our way back through the sterile halls. Jayden was following behind me, but I didn’t want to acknowledge his presence. Not yet. Not until I had a moment to collect myself.

Once we were in the room, I turned to face him for the first time since the hospital had become my temporary home. His expression was a mixture of relief, anticipation, and something else I couldn’t quite place. But I wasn’t in the mood for whatever he was trying to convey. I had to talk to him. I needed to get this out, but I wasn’t sure how to say it without everything coming crashing down again.

Jayden stood awkwardly by the door, his hands twitching at his sides, the bouquet of white roses he’d brought earlier still sitting on the table, forgotten.

“I…” he started, but I cut him off.

“Jayden,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. “I need to talk to you. About our baby.”

His eyes widened, and I could see the tension leave his body for a moment, replaced by an almost desperate hope. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up. I wasn’t ready to give him anything, not yet. But this was something we had to discuss. For her sake.

He took a step forward, his hands now fidgeting nervously. “What… what do you want to talk about?” His voice was soft, cautious, as though walking on thin ice.

I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before I continued. “I want to know if you… if you want to name her.”

There was a long pause before he responded, and for a moment, I thought he hadn’t heard me. He didn’t say anything at first, his gaze flickering from me to the flowers, and then back to the floor. His face was a study in uncertainty, but also something else, something that made my chest tighten. Did he really care? Did he feel as lost as I did?

“Are you… sure?” Jayden asked, his voice trembling slightly. “I thought… I thought you might want to name her, considering…”

I shook my head, cutting him off before he could finish. “She’s our daughter. I think we should decide together. And you should get to choose too. You’re her father.”

There it was. The word. The title. The one thing that had kept me holding on, that had kept me from cutting him off completely. He was the father. And as much as he’d hurt me, as much as I wanted to shut him out, he deserved this. He deserved to have a say in her life. He might not have earned my trust back, not yet, but he had earned the right to be a father.

Jayden seemed taken aback by my words, as if he hadn’t expected me to give him that. To make this a mutual decision. He swallowed hard, looking down at his hands for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet mine again.

“Okay,” he said, his voice quiet. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

He exhaled slowly, as though the weight of my words had settled over him. A small, hesitant smile appeared on his lips, and he stepped closer. “Then I… I’d like to call her Jade.”

I blinked, not expecting that name. Not at all. “Jade?” I repeated, testing the sound of it in my mouth. It was beautiful, simple. Strong.

“Yes,” Jayden said, a look of pride entering his eyes. “She’s my treasure, Daphne. A rare gem.”

The words hit me harder than I expected. They were so… genuine. And in a way, I could see it. I could see her in my mind’s eye, her tiny, delicate fingers, the way she gripped my hand, the way she fought through the hardest moments. She is a treasure, my little Jade.

I didn’t say anything. I just nodded, trying not to show how much his words had affected me.

“That’s a beautiful name,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled again, a little more confidently this time. But before I could say anything more, he seized the opportunity to tell me something else.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jayden said, his voice a little more upbeat now, as though this moment of decision had unlocked something inside him. “I had the mansion baby-proofed. And I had a special playground built for her. It’s going to be perfect for when she’s old enough.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and I could feel a warmth spreading through me. He’d done that for her. For Jade. And for me, too, I realized. Maybe he was trying. Maybe this was his way of showing me that he wanted to be a part of this.

“Jayden…” I started, my voice wavering for the first time in a long while. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I know,” he said, stepping closer again, his eyes soft. “But I wanted to. For her. For both of you.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay. I wasn’t ready to let myself feel. Not yet. But his effort, his care, it touched me more than I wanted to admit.

Just as I was about to speak again, the door opened, and the doctor walked in. His expression was serious, his face unreadable.

“I have news,” he said, his tone firm.