THE THIRTIETH pt2

The rest of the day follows a similar pattern with visitors popping in and out bringing with them food and gifts for Millie. The relief on people’s faces when they see me has been a stark reminder of what I have been through, despite doing my best just to sweep it under the carpet and forget about it. It's only when Bea says something about ‘crashing’, a nugget of information that I tuck away to confront Taylor with later, that I get the impression that maybe things were more serious than I had been told.

By the time I am tucked up in bed with Taylor that evening with Millie sleeping beside us peacefully in her basket, I’m exhausted. I relish the fact that I can curl my body once again into his, laying my head on his chest and listening to the steady thump of his heart.

“Taylor?” I murmur. “What did Bea mean about crashing?”

Taylor lets out a sigh and the tempo of his heartbeat increases. Uh-oh, this can’t be good. “You don’t need to know this, Abs,” Taylor says a little harshly.

My body tenses as I prepare to snap back at him but then I realise he would only be like this if it were really bad so instead I modulate my voice, “Please, Taylor. I need to know. The not knowing is always worse than guessing or imagining what could have happened.”

Taylor is quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room being Millie’s gentle snores and squeaks beside us. “After they had taken you into theatre, they had you stabilised but Bean was still in distress. I was waiting outside and I had no idea what was going on because they wouldn’t let me into the theatre room. Suddenly they came out demanding my consent so that they could remove Bean by C-section. The guy was covered in blood, your blood. For the rest of my life, I will never forget that image,” Taylor mutters.

“I signed the paperwork as quickly as possible but as he ran back through the doors, I could hear people shouting. “We’re losing her,” they were shouting and then I heard someone else calling out that the baby had to come out now. I couldn’t hear anything else but you can imagine what was going through my head.

“Your mum and dad turned up then, just as they brought Bean out. They had her wrapped in this blanket and they were telling us that she was fine and healthy but all I could think of was you lying on that table; I didn’t know if you were dead or alive. The midwife took Bean down to the maternity ward with your mum to do all the checks and stuff that they normally do but I was just frozen to the spot.

“The next thing I know this woman in scrubs comes pelting up the corridor carrying bags of blood and then disappears through the door, your door, and all I can hear is them yelling that you are crashing.” Tears slide down Taylor’s face and I gently wipe them away with my thumb. I had no idea it had been that bad.

“I had to wait over an hour before they came out to tell me that they had stabilised you. The bullet had done so much damage that they were struggling to control the bleeding, and that combined with the trauma of getting Bean out had meant your pressure had dropped. They told me later that you actually died for a minute and that they had to shock you back to life.”

“Bloody hell, Taylor,” I whisper. “I had no idea.”

“I know, Abs. I didn’t think you needed to know. I will live with the memory of the fear I felt until the day I die. I didn’t want you to have those images in your head because, believe me, once they are in there you can never get rid of them.”

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that alone,” I murmur.

“I wasn’t alone, Abs. Your dad stayed with me the entire time. He was amazing, an absolute rock. Seriously, I have no idea how I would have gotten through it all if it wasn’t for him.” Taylor falls silent and I know exactly what he’s thinking, that he wished his own father could have been there for him like that.

I squeeze Taylor tightly, “I’m here, Tay, and I promise you I’m not going anywhere for the rest of our lives. Believe me, I think we’ve earned some peace in our future.

We lay like that for hours, our limbs entwined so that you wouldn’t be able to tell whose belong to whom. The twinkle of the LED lights that fill the indigo ceiling gives the room a magical quality so that as we chat quietly about plans for the future it really does feel like anything is possible.