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“That’s great. I’m sure it will.”
“Do…do you think Scarlett would…”
Oh. Fuck. The part I absolutely was not qualified to handle and did not have the skills to deal with.
“…agree to meet with me?”
CHAPTER 31
Scarlett
Okay, so there was a plan. There was action. The doctor had contacted my birth mother, and we were just waiting to hear back. Which meant there was hope. Thank fuck for that.
God, I couldn’t believe I was even saying this, but I was actually grateful Rhett had been so persistent about getting that information. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right - having that family medical history could make all the difference for the babies. I just wished he had handled it better, I guess.
But in the end, that was how Rhett was. He bulldozed through everything, intent on getting the job done, no matter who he had to run over in the process. It was frustrating as hell, but... I don’t know, maybe it wasn’t all bad. Because when it really counted, when the chips were down, he had shown that he was willing to go to the mat for me. And for the babies. And that... that meant more than I wanted to admit. Fucking hell.
I shifted uncomfortably on the hospital bed as a nurse breezed into the room. “Hiya. I’ve got a bit of lunch for ya. Roast chicken and veg, if that takes your fancy.”
“Thank you. That’s great.” I watched her place the tray carefully onto the rolling table, trying to pretend to be interested. My appetite had been non-existent ever since Dr. Morris dropped that bombshell diagnosis on me and Rhett. But I knew I had to look after myself, for the babies, so I dragged the table toward me and lifted the cloche. The scent of chicken and gravy almost punched me in the face, and it was all I could do not to hurl.
“Not feeling up to it?” The nurse asked, giving me a sympathetic smile.
“Not really, but I’ll manage.”
“I’m glad to hear that because you’re sure going to be busy over the next few days.”
With a forkful of chicken and potato halfway to my mouth, I frowned at her in confusion. “How so?”
“Well, with the thirty samples we’ve got coming in right now, one of them is bound to be a match, which means we can start the infusions. You should see the blood bank. I’ve never seen it so full!”
I stared at her, my brain struggling to compute what she’d just said. Thirty samples? Thirty living, breathing relatives, all here to help me and the babies? My blood rushed in my ears, and I felt a tightness in my chest - oh god, was I going to have a panic attack right now?
“Thirty?” I breathed, the fork slipping from my fingers and clattering against the plate. “Thirty... relatives?” The word felt foreign on my tongue, like I was speaking a language I’d long forgotten.
She nodded enthusiastically. Clearly, my absolute shock hadn’t registered for her. “Isn’t that great? It’s always wonderful when families rally around a loved one like this. I love to see it! And lucky you for having such a big one!” Finally noticing the state I was in, she reached out to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. “I know it must be overwhelming, but try not to worry. We’re gonna find a match, I just know it.”
Overwhelming didn’t even begin to cover it. My chest tightened further, making it hard to breathe. Thirty people who shared my DNA, my history, my very existence. For so long, it had just been me - lonely, isolated, the odd one out. And now, in the span of a few days, that had all changed.
I swallowed hard, willing the tears that threatened to fall to stay put. I couldn’t break down, not here, not now. I had to be strong for the babies. But the mere thought of meeting these strangers, of having to explain my story, my fears, my hopes - it was almost too much to bear.
Hands shaking, I reached for the glass of water on the tray, taking a long, desperate sip. I needed to get a grip, to find some semblance of control in this whirlwind of upheaval. But as the cool liquid slid down my throat, all I could think was: Thirty. Thirty people who had stepped up for me. Jesus fuck.
The door to my hospital room swung open and my gaze snapped up to see Rhett stride in. Before I could even process his arrival, the chipper nurse turned to greet him.
“Ah, Mr. Rivers! Glad you could make it. I was just trying to get our patient here to eat a little something.” She gestured to the untouched tray in front of me. “But I know how it is - the appetite can be the first thing to go when you’re dealing with a high-risk pregnancy and stress.”
Rhett’s eyes flicked to me, and I felt a pang of guilt at the worry I saw there. “How is she doing?” he asked the nurse, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
“Oh, she’s a tough one, this one,” the nurse replied with an encouraging smile. “Hasn’t let a little thing like a high-risk twin pregnancy slow her down. Never stops working!” She turned back to me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “Now you try to eat what you can, alright? I’ll be back to check on you shortly.”
With that, she bustled out of the room, leaving Rhett and me alone in a charged silence. I toyed with the edge of the hospital blanket, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. After everything that had happened over the last few days, I knew I owed him an apology.
He cleared his throat, as though he was about to speak, but I cut him off. It was now or never and it was already awkward as fuck.
“Rhett, I...” My voice trailed off as I searched for the right words, my eyes down as I continued to fidget with the blanket. “Um, you were right.”
Rhett didn’t respond right away, and the silence stretched on uncomfortably. I finally glanced up, only to find him watching me with an unreadable expression. Just as I was about to speak again, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smirk.