Chapter 27

27

Rhett

We pull up to an accident on the 440 Parkway. I jump out of the ambulance and grab my bag as we start assessing the situation. Atta and Ghost Pepper are up ahead while I check the woman who is sitting on the side of the road. Blood runs down her temple.

Throwing on some disposable gloves and grabbing some gauze, I hold it to her head. "Can you tell me your name?"

"S-Susan. The truck, the truck cut us all off." She's pale, and when I take her vitals, she is stable.

I pull the gauze away and then pour some saline over the wound. Using the gauze, I wipe as much blood as I can away from it. "Susan, I'm Rhett. You're going to need stitches. Is there someone you can call?"

"M-My husband."

Two ambulances pull up and I pass her off to the paramedics. The other ambulance drives past us to another car. Marchy comes rushing over to me.

"Brother, I need you to come with me, but keep it together," he states, as Hawk and Atta follow him to me.

I try to look around the ambulance. "What's going on?"

Marchy grabs my shoulder and leads me toward the car. That's when I recognize a familiar blue BMW. My brothers hold me back as I try to shove them off me, while the paramedics load Sofia onto a gurney.

"Let me go, man. That's my fucking wife." They let me go and I run to them as they're loading her up into the ambulance. One of them opens their mouth to protest, but I hold out my hand. "She's my wife, I'm not leaving her."

I hop in the back and hear Marchy shout, "Go, brother, we'll let Cap know!"

I grab Sofia's hand. "Baby, you're going to be okay."

Sofia begins to cry and squeezes my hand. "It hurts," she cries as she clutches her stomach. "The baby?"

I feel my heart racing as I hold Sofia's hand. "Try to stay calm, baby. We're going to get you to the hospital and make sure you and our little girl are okay."

The paramedic works quickly, checking Sofia's vitals and starting an IV. "Mrs. Ferguson, can you tell me where it hurts?" he asks calmly.

Sofia winces. "My stomach... and my head. Please, is my baby okay?"

The paramedic glances at me before answering. "We're going to do everything we can for both of you. Just try to relax and breathe deeply."

I stroke Sofia's hair gently, trying to keep her calm even as panic threatens to overwhelm me. "You're doing great, baby. We'll be at the hospital soon."

The ride to the hospital feels agonizingly long. I keep talking softly to Sofia, reminding her to breathe and telling her how much I love her. Inside, I'm terrified. The thought of losing Sofia or our daughter is unbearable.

When we arrive at the hospital, everything happens in a blur. Sofia is rushed into the emergency department while I'm left to fill out paperwork. I call her mom and my parents, my hands shaking as I try to explain what happened.

After what feels like hours, a doctor finally comes to update me. "Mr. Ferguson? Your wife is stable, but we're concerned about some bleeding we've detected. We're going to admit her and monitor her on the labor and delivery unit. As long as she doesn't begin having contractions, she should be able to go home tomorrow. We are going to give her some steroid shots to help mature the baby's lungs."

He checks his phone. "They should be moving her there soon, but you can come back and see her. I follow the doctor to Sofia's room, my heart pounding. When I enter, I see her lying in the hospital bed, looking pale and tired but alert. Relief washes over me as I rush to her side.

"Sofia," I breathe, taking her hand in mine. "How are you feeling, baby?"

She gives me a weak smile. "I'm okay. Just scared." Her hand moves to her belly protectively. "Have they said anything about the baby?"

I nod, stroking her hair gently. "They're monitoring you both closely. As long as you don't start having contractions, they think everything will be fine. They're giving you some shots to help the baby's lungs develop, just in case."

Sofia lets out a shaky breath. "Okay. That's good, right?"

"It's very good," I assure her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're both fighters. Everything's going to be okay."

Just then, a nurse comes in to check Sofia's vitals and help move her to the labor and delivery unit. As they wheel her bed down the hall, I walk alongside, never letting go of her hand.

Once we're settled in the new room, Sofia looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rhett. I should have been more careful..."

I shake my head firmly. "Hey, none of that. This wasn't your fault. The important thing is you and our little girl are going to be okay."

Sofia nods, wiping away a tear. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," I murmur, leaning down to kiss her softly. "Both of you. And I'm not going anywhere."

As the night wears on, I stay by Sofia's side, holding her hand and talking softly to her and our baby. The monitors beep steadily, reassuring us that our daughter's heartbeat remains strong.

Despite my exhaustion, I refuse to sleep, not wanting to leave Sofia alone for even a moment. As dawn breaks, the doctor comes in with good news—the bleeding has stopped and there are no signs of preterm labor. Sofia will need to take it easy for a while, but they believe she and the baby will be just fine.

Relief washes over us both as I pull her hand to my mouth, kissing it. Once we're discharged, I can't get us out of there fast enough. We take an Uber home, and once we're home, I lift her out of the car and carry her inside.

"Quit treating me like I'm going to break," Sofia barks from our bed.

I take a deep breath, to keep calm. She's on bed rest for another week and then we'll see her doctor and see if she can be off bed rest. There has been no contractions or bleeding, but she's been in bed since the accident.

This hasn't tested our relationship too badly, but I'm not sure how much more either one of us can take. We just want our daughter and Sofia to both be healthy.

That's what I tell her. "I'm sorry, but not sorry. I just want you both safe," I say softly.

Sofia grabs a pillow and screams into it. "Ugh…I know. I want the baby safe too, but I'm tired of being in bed. I'm tired of being on the couch I'm tired of everyone tiptoeing around me. I might not be able to do a lot, but I just want to be treated like I'm normal."

"Is it really so fucking wrong that I love you and want to take care of you? For fuck's sake, Sofia, people have rearranged their schedules to come hang out with you. The least you could do is act fucking grateful." I leave her in the bedroom, grab my keys, and slam out of my house just needing to walk away before one of us says something we'll regret.