Page 5 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Chapter Four

Julian

“ D addy?”

“I’m coming, baby girl,” I shout through the bathroom door. I’d hoped that Wren would start feeling better, but she hasn’t. I can’t lie. It’s starting to worry me a bit. She’s barely been able to stay awake. I’m trying not to spiral, but Maya was the same way, and now she’s gone. I barely survived losing her. No way I’ll survive losing Wren.

Stop, Julian. Wren’s okay. She’s just sick. Kids get sick.

I step out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. “Did you have a good nap?” I ask. Wren nods, but it doesn’t look like she had a good nap at all. She looks like she hasn’t slept all week. God knows I haven’t.

“I have a boo-boo, Daddy,” she says.

“Oh, that’s no good. Where at?”

She lifts her shirt and my stomach fucking drops out, falls straight to the floor. She has a bruise on her stomach. I try not to let my panic show on my face. “How did that happen, baby girl? Did you hurt yourself on something?”

“Don’t member,” she mutters.

“Let Daddy see,” I say, sitting down beside her on the bed. “Does it hurt when I touch it?” I ask, reaching out to touch the bruise.

“No,” she says.

That’s good, right? It has to be a good sign. “Are you feeling any better?” I ask. She shrugs, blinking up at me with bleary eyes. The worst part of this whole thing is there’s really nothing for me to do. She’s not throwing up. She’s not running a fever. She’s not coughing. Not a single symptom that I can try to treat or fix. She’s just… not herself. And that worries me, almost more than anything else.

“Let Daddy put a movie on for you. I’m gonna call Mamaw, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods, so I get her set up with a movie, and step out of the room.

Ruby, thankfully, answers on the second ring. “Hey, Julian. How’s our little one doing today?”

The genuine concern in her voice makes my throat tighten, and I have to swallow hard a couple of times before I can speak. “I’m not sure, really. She’s still sleeping a lot.”

“Hmm, still no other symptoms?”

Should I mention the bruise? It’s probably nothing, but something about it has me a little freaked out. “She has a bruise on her stomach. It wasn’t there yesterday.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line that makes my heart try to climb its way into my throat. “Ruby?” I choke out.

“You may want to take her to get seen.” Fear spirals so quickly through my body that I forget to breathe. “She’s probably fine, but if she is fighting an infection, she may need antibiotics.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. To be fair, I don’t think I could manage to talk right now if I tried.

“It’s going to be okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” I say, but it comes out more like a croak than an actual word. I clear my throat. “No. Should I take her to the hospital, you think? Or should I just wait until Monday and take her to her doctor?”

Ruby hums. “Well, she’s been feeling down for a week, so if you want to wait a couple more days, she should be fine. But if it is something that needs medicine, it’ll be better to get it in her system sooner.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll take her in today,” I say. Ruby sounds calm, which calms me down too. “I’m so thankful for you, Ruby. Honestly, no way I could do this without you.”

She chuckles. “You’re a great dad, Julian. Give yourself some credit. Please call me anytime you need me. I’ll always be here for the two of you,” she says.

“Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.”

After saying our goodbyes, I head back into my room and Wren is asleep again. All the calm I managed to gather during my talk with Ruby disappears in a flash, anxiety taking its place. God, what is wrong with my baby? I lift her into my arms and carry her to the car.

By the time she’s buckled into her seat, she’s awake again, and I’m trying to keep the tremor in my hands to a minimum. It’s not quite working for me.

I watch her in the rearview mirror as I drive to the hospital. I was hoping to be more calm, but I’m not at all. Hospitals are a major trigger for me, and I’m not at all looking forward to this. By the time I pull into the parking lot, I’m nauseous. God, I just about lived here when Maya was sick. Wren and I spent many hours in these halls, trying to make sure she got to spend as much time with her mom as possible.

I climb out and open Wren’s door, unbuckling her and lifting her out of her seat. “Walk, Daddy?” she asks. I’d really like to hold her, but that’s a me problem, and the fact that she wants to walk is probably a good sign. She’s probably totally fine, and I’m freaking out for nothing.

I set her down, and she lifts her hand up to grab mine. I can’t help but smile down at her as we walk through the parking lot and into the hospital. The harsh antiseptic smell makes my stomach turn, but I try to ignore it. They’ll probably take her to the pediatrics area, right? No reason at all for us to be in oncology. I glance down at her and watch as her wide eyes take in the chaotic activity around her. I know there’s no way she remembers how much time we spent here the way I do, and honestly, I’m thankful for that.

I get her checked in and a few minutes later, they have us in an exam room. The nurse asks some basic questions about her symptoms and tells me the PA will be right in.

Wren’s sitting on my lap, and I pull my phone out so she can play on it, but I don’t even have time to set her up because there’s a knock on the door. A blonde man walks in, a bright smile on his face. “Hey, guys, I’m Beck. I hear Miss Wren isn’t feeling too great.”

She blinks up at him. She’s always been shy, but she’s barely even spoken since she started feeling bad. “She’s been sleeping a lot,” I blurt out, unable to stop myself.

The doctor nods, and after washing his hands, sits down on a stool and rolls toward us. “Can I touch your neck?” he asks. She doesn’t answer him, so he glances up at me.

“Yeah, whatever you need to do.” I take a deep breath, trying to keep myself calm.

“Have you noticed any other symptoms or are we just sleeping a lot?” he asks as he gently checks her neck, then looks in her ears. “Open wide for me,” he says, before looking at her throat as well.

“Well, it’s mostly just the sleeping,” I say. “She hasn’t thrown up or ran a fever or anything. But today I noticed a bruise on her stomach.”

He frowns. “Can I check it out?”

She nods shyly at him. He lifts her shirt, just enough to see. “Can we lay her back?” he asks, so I stand and lay her down on the exam table.

He’s all concentration as he pushes on her stomach. “Does any of this hurt?” he asks.

“No,” she says, blinking up at him.

“Well, that’s what we like to hear,” he says, giving her a grin.

“What do you think’s wrong? Why does she have that bruise?” I ask.

He directs his attention to me. “It’s not all that abnormal for kids to get bruises, even if they don’t quite remember where they came from. Can you remember anything she could have hit herself on?”

I shake my head. “No, she’s been sleeping a lot this week, so she hasn’t even really played.”

He gives her a little tickle to her sides that has her giggling and him smiling, and then he pulls her shirt down. “I’m thinking it’s probably a viral infection that’ll need to run its course. Her ears are clear, and her throat looks fine, but I’m going to send you up to pediatrics to get a blood draw. When there’s no clear cause and parents are concerned, I like to cover all the bases.”

I hesitate. He thinks it’s a viral infection, which means nothing to really worry about. I’m already a lot calmer than I was, but doing some blood work wouldn’t hurt. If anything, it’ll just put me at ease more to know for sure. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do that, as long as it’s not a big deal.”

“Not at all,” he says, before turning his attention back to Wren. “My friend Holden works up there. You’ll really like him. He’s super nice. Tell him Beck said to give you extra stickers.”

His words give me a little jolt, my pulse quickening, but I brush it off quickly. No way it’s the same Holden from last weekend. Wren nods at him, with the biggest smile I’ve seen on her face all week. I read on a parenting blog once that kids are always super sick until you take them to the ER, and then they snap right out of it. I chuckle a bit to myself at the reality of that right now. Maybe I really am worrying for no reason. That would be nice.

“Okay, I’ll get the order put in, and someone will be around in a few to take you all up,” he says.

By the time we make it to our room in the pediatric unit, I’m much calmer. Wren is quietly playing a game on my phone, and I’m watching her, happy that she seems to be feeling a bit better.

There’s a slight knock, and then a nurse walks in, shutting the door behind them. “Hey, guys. How are we doing today?” That voice. I know that fucking voice.

“I’m playing Daddy’s phone,” Wren says, shyness forgotten, holding it up to show him.

“Oh yeah? That sounds fun!” And then he turns, and my gaze collides with emerald green, and I’m drowning all over again. I’m frozen in place, unable to say a single fucking word. This cannot be happening right now.

Something flashes in his expression, there and gone so quickly, I have no hope of figuring out what it was. “Hello,” he says, holding his hand out to shake mine in a way that is so achingly familiar it almost takes me out. “I’m Holden.”

I stare at him in confusion. Does he not remember me? We literally had almost this exact same exchange a week ago. A week ago, today, actually. He blinks up at me, hand out in front of him, his expression expectant. I reach out and clasp his hand in mine, the same sharp crackle of electricity that fired up my arm last time, hitting me again, nearly taking my breath away. “I’m Julian,” I say. I guess we’re pretending like we don’t know each other, then. Cool. This is fine. Really. No big deal. I’m totally okay with this.

He pulls his hand from mine and turns to Wren. “And who’s this little cutie?”

“I’m Wren,” she declares proudly, setting my phone to the side, her eyes locked on him like he’s the best thing she’s ever seen. She’s never like this with new people. I guess something about him puts her at ease, which makes sense because he put me at ease too. Until I started drowning, that is.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he says, smiling down at her. My stomach gives a little twist at the way he’s looking at her. Stop it, Julian. This is his job . When he turns to me, his expression is blank—none of the smile he gave Wren to be found. “So, we’ll get her blood drawn and you two can be on your way. It’ll take about twenty-four hours or so to get the results back. Someone will call you if there’s anything abnormal.”

Wren’s eyes light up. “Beck said stickers,” she says, looking at Holden like she’s scoping him out for stickers he may have hidden on his body. He laughs. Light and bubbly—musical, almost. My heart does a slow roll in my chest, something inside me lighting up at the sound. Not a fucking appropriate reaction, Julian.

“I do have stickers. Let’s get you taken care of and I’ll get you some. Sound good?” he asks her, tapping her on the nose. She smiles at him like he’s the sun, and yeah. Felt that, kid. Nope. Not doing that. Redirect those thoughts. He turns his attention to me again. “I’ll be right back. They can get a little iffy with needles. You should probably come hold her.”

My eyes follow Holden’s movements as he walks out of the room. The second he shuts the door, I’m sagging in relief. Jesus Christ. Did he really not recognize me at all? Why does it matter if he didn’t? It doesn’t. It’s fine. Totally fine.

“Daddy?” Wren asks, and my attention is pulled quickly to her. Fuck. Dad of the year, everyone.

“Yes, baby girl?” I ask. I step toward her, lifting her into my arms before sitting down on the exam table with her on my lap.

“Stickers?” she asks, dark brown eyes blinking up at me.

“He said he’d bring you some,” I respond, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She nods and reaches for my phone again. We sit like that for a while—the sound of some YouTube video playing softly in the background. I peek around her to see what she’s watching, but I lose focus when the door opens.

Holden breezes into the room with what looks like supplies to collect her blood sample. It’s nothing like the number of samples they collected from Maya over the time she was sick, but it makes my vision go a little dim around the edges and my heartbeat pound in my ears anyway. I watch his hands as he gets everything set up. Wren squirms in my lap, but I barely even notice it. I can’t pull my eyes away from the small needle he has, nothing like the giant one they used to poke Maya with, the tube that’s going to be holding my daughter’s blood, the gloves—the fucking gloves. My chest is burning like it’s on fire. Am I breathing? I’m not sure that I’m breathing.

I feel Wren’s hand patting my chest, but it’s dull. Muted. Holden’s saying something, but it sounds like he’s underwater. Jesus, Julian, breathe.

Wren’s weight is lifted from my lap, and then Holden’s staring at me, inches from my face. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear anything he’s saying. He lifts my hand and places it on his chest. Oh, I like that. I can feel it rise under my fingers. I watch his lips as they move, and it looks like he’s counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Then he exhales, his chest deflating with it. One. Two. Three. Four. Oh. He wants me to breathe with him. I can do that, I think. I force my chest to fill with air, watching his lips as he counts, then let it out slowly when he does. He nods, then starts back up. I follow his breathing until awareness starts to creep in—Wren crying, Holden counting, the feel of his body heat against my fingers through his scrubs.

The second I realize what’s happening, I pull my hand away, almost falling off the exam table in my haste to get to my crying daughter. I lift her into my arms and tuck her against me. Her little sobs sink under my skin and make me want to cry with her. “Daddy’s sorry, Wren. It’s okay,” I whisper, rubbing her back as she cries into my shoulder.