Page 91 of Dirty Hearts

Tears pulled at my own eyes. Better if he was silent. Sometimes silence told you everything. Things you already knew.

Marissa started shaking and sat up, moving away from me.

“Save him? It’s… come to that?” she stuttered.

“I’m truly sorry, but it has come to that stage. We thought of all the options.”

“What are the options?” I really didn’t mean for that to sound as tense and verging on threatening as it did. I really didn’t, but I noticed the wariness in Dr. Braithwaite’s face.

He knew who I was. He probably knew to be careful around me, but what could I do? Who I was counted for shit in times like these.

“As the baby is thirty-eight weeks, we thought we could either deliver by caesarean or induce labor for a natural birth, but we don’t know if he would survive either of those procedures. I hoped that his heartbeat and rate would improve over night, but it… it hasn’t.”

Marissa started to cry.

“What now? What should we do now?” My hands tensed around her.

“The decision… the best decision is to do the caesarean, but we can’t guarantee anything. Your son had an unusual birth defect that we didn’t pick up earlier. These things happen, and while our equipment is advanced and we use the latest technology we can get our hands on, there are some things that we just can’t pick up until it’s too late.”

I stared at him. I knew he was trying to explain as best as he could, and he probably showed more emotion and compassion than a lot of doctors I’d come across, but it wasn’t helping.

Nothing was helping.

“Can you leave us? Please.” I needed him to go. To leave us in private to deal with the bomb he’d just dropped on us.

“Of course. I’ll need to come back in at least half an hour to prep for surgery if you decide to go ahead with the emergency caesarean.”

“Yes, we will do that. She’ll be ready in half an hour.” I didn’t know where the strength came from to give such a confident definitive answer, but there it was. Of course, we would do whatever it took to save our child.

“You understand that—”

“Leave us.” I held up my hand to him and shook my head. I didn’t want to fucking hear that the surgery might not work.

He’d already told us that.

He’d already told us there was no hope. So, he could fuck off and go prep for whatever he needed to prep for and leave us to talk.

He left, and Marissa cried harder. Hard to the point of shaking, and more to the point where she was gasping. I pulled back a little so I could look at her. She tried to look away, but I guided her face back to me.

“Marissa, I need you to be strong. It’s hard, but please. Stress will only make your pressure go up.”

She wiped away her tears, but more came. “You should go.”

“What?” I searched the solemn expression on her face. I didn’t know what she meant.

“It’s over. Just leave me. There’s no reason for you to stay. He won’t make it. I can feel it. I can’t even feel him inside me anymore.” She wept, and the tears choked her.

I gripped her shoulders. “You think I would just leave you?”

I didn’t know why I was surprised. Of course, she would think that. It wasn’t true though. I wasn’t leaving.

“You’re with me for him, and I love you for being so good to us. I tried to be what he needed, but I failed.”

I lowered my head and pressed my forehead to hers. “I love you for trying.” That was true. I never said anything I didn’t feel, so she knew that was true. “You didn’t fail, and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens.” I moved back as I said that so she could see the seriousness in my expression.

Once again, that was right, the right thing to do. It didn’t matter what circumstances had brought us together. She was my wife, and I wouldn’t leave her. No matter what happened.

“Oh, Claudius… you’d stay with me?” She swallowed hard and looked me over in disbelief.