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24. Rosie

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rosie

The light from above glinted on my wedding band, drawing my eyes to it. Almost every time I noticed it was on my hand, I internally started, followed by a softness in my heart.

I loved Wyatt. Of that, I had no doubt. I told myself all the things I thought I should. That being anxious about commitment was normal for anyone. Even for someone whose mother had died in a startling way. I told myself it was worth the risk. That Wyatt was worth it all.

So when my worst nightmare happened when I was on shift at the hospital, I told myself it was just pure coincidence. It had nothing to do with my conversation with Wyatt about my mother. I feared his faith in me and my ability to keep it cool during an emergency might've been misplaced.

When a woman gave birth and we couldn't get the bleeding to stop, it was all hands-on deck. I couldn't help but think of my mother and what that night must've been like for her. The mother was in her thirties, just like mine had been. This was her second child, and the labor seemed to go fairly smoothly, although her OB-GYN had been monitoring her in the past week due to concerns about bleeding.

She got to hold her little baby boy, who they named Danny. As the nurses began going through the usual steps after the baby was born, the bleeding wasn't slowing. At all. She began to look scared when her breathing became labored, and it was clear she was weakening.

With modern medicine, it was easy to trick yourself into thinking we could handle anything. We certainly could handle many things, far more than in earlier times. Yet childbirth was always risky. A multitude of factors were at play, but the data started to point us to a serious problem. Her blood pressure was plummeting, nothing we did could bring it up, and multiple doctors began filling the room.

"What's happening?" Her voice was shaky. Giving birth stretches a body to its limit.

I ran in and out of the room, sending people to check on our blood supply and making sure we called for more if needed. I obviously hadn't been there when this happened to my mother, but the old memories were fresh at this moment. The hospital staff allowed us in to see her, and I remembered a sense of panic setting in when we were escorted out later. I hadn't understood what was happening but knew it was serious. I had felt the somber tone of the room. It took my mother approximately twenty-four hours to essentially bleed to death.

I wished I had never looked at her records. Before the ability to give people blood transfusions to keep them alive, literally, she would've died much more quickly. There would've been no way to even hope she could've made it.

My mind was jolted back to the moment when one of the ER doctors, Dr. Jackson, spoke my name. His voice was calm and low like it always was. He was older, and he only worked part-time now. He said he liked to do the ER shift because it helped keep him on his toes. He said it was an injection of vitality because he remembered just how much life meant.

When he approached me, I was in the break room with my elbows on my knees, fighting the exhaustion setting in. I didn't even know how many hours I'd been at the hospital.

I glanced up with blurry eyes to see him standing in the doorway. "Cassie is going to make it. She's finally stabilized," Dr. Jackson said.

I burst into tears. He walked across the room and sat down on the bench beside me, his big hand landing between my shoulder blades. He moved it in a slow circle. His touch alone was soothing. He was a big man, easily a few inches over six feet tall. Nothing seemed to rattle him. Until tonight, I'd thought nothing rattled me at work.

"Breathe, Rosie."

I took several slow breaths. After a few moments, my tears had stopped, and I could straighten up. I glanced over at him, feeling sheepish. "I'm sorry," I said quickly.

"You don't need to apologize. We all have those cases. For some, they're few and far between. I understand why it's happening for you. I wasn't the doctor who treated your mother, but I was on duty that night. I remember how everyone felt. It was a long night, and, unlike Cassie, she didn't make it. I'm not telling you anything you don't know, but there's always a risk in life. Some of those risks are very close to our hearts. I want you to go home to your new husband." His eyes twinkled a little at that. He had teased me about my Vegas wedding the other day. "And remember to tell him you love him. Are you okay?"

Whenever Dr. Jackson asked that question, it was always slow and with purpose. You could tell he really wanted to know if you were actually okay.

I nodded slowly. "I'm okay."

He moved his hand in one more slow circle before he held it in place and gave me a light pat, almost as if to emphasize my answer. "You are okay. It might help to pop in and check on Cassie before you leave tonight."

After Dr. Jackson left the break room, I remained seated for another few minutes. I did an internal body check. I felt tired and weary in a way that wasn't typical for me. I was just exhausted, sucked dry from the emotion of trying to help keep someone alive. That was difficult, no matter what. But to have it be something that had actually led to my mother's death was something else altogether. I let out a sharp breath. Tonight's events had taken me by surprise, resurrecting a grief I thought had passed.

If I'd learned one thing in all the years since I'd lost my mother, it was that you truly could not change the past. There were no do-overs. All you could do was try to find a way forward through the pain. Over time, the loss did become smaller, except you were always carrying it in your heart. Sometimes the pain of it was sharp, like when you hit your funny bone on something. It reverberated like an electrical shock, unexpected and piercing enough to take your breath away.

I swallowed and gulped in a breath of air before I stood. A few moments later, I took Dr. Jackson's advice and stopped in to see how Cassie was doing. I was a professional, and this was my job. Even if tonight's events had hit startlingly close to home, preparing yourself for the life-and-death moments we faced daily was always a challenge.

I was so profoundly relieved Cassie had made it through, that modern medicine helped turn the tide. It wasn't as if I thought our team had completely saved her. It was a combination of details: her body responding in the right way at the right time and her having just enough reserves in her system to make it through a dicey situation.

When I walked into her room, she was propped up in bed, holding her newborn son. Her husband was in a chair beside the bed, sound asleep. I knew he had been awake for much of this, trying to be there for her the whole time.

Cassie had a weary and deeply felt smile on her face. My hands were actually shaking a little. This was the moment that my mother never got. I had to blink away the tears stinging my eyes.

I almost didn't trust myself to touch her. Typically, I might've rested a hand on a patient's shoulder. In this case, I started by lightly curling my palm around the back of her baby's head. "He looks great. So do you." I was relieved my voice was steady.

Her smile softened as she let out a sigh. "Thank you. I still remember your voice telling me to hold on. I tried. Thank you so much. I don't know what happened, but I'm glad to be here now."

I tipped my head to the side and felt my strength rolling in along with the calm I had called upon time and again. "We can explain it later when you're feeling a little better. For now, you're okay, and that's all that matters."

She blinked up at me. Her son was sound asleep on her chest.

"I'm done with my shift, so I'm heading out. They'll keep you for a few days to make sure you're stable. I'll check in on you tomorrow, okay?"

Cassie nodded, her eyes sliding over toward her husband. "I think he's tired."

I laughed softly. "I'm not sure how much you remember, but he was with you for most of it."

"I know he was." Tears glittered in her eyes. "Thank you again."

As I left, all I could think was that I needed to see Wyatt. It was a near desperate feeling to be in his presence.

I texted him before I drove away.

Me: I need you tonight.

Later, I would realize how raw and vulnerable it was for me to write that.

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