Page 59 of Thorns That Bloom (Venusverse #3)

Theo

“I’m really going to need you to stop pacing.

You’re making me dizzy,” I hear him say.

I pause in front of his hospital bed, but only for a moment.

I can’t even look at Sam, lying there in the gown, connected to a bunch of machines to monitor him and the baby, without feeling the guilt ripping through me.

I say nothing and walk to the other side of the room again, chewing at my bottom lip. My heart might actually explode if I stop moving.

Where are the doctors? They said they would be back with the results soon.

What if he starts bleeding again? What if something bad happens?

Sam lets out another sigh. “Theo…”

Before I can turn to him, the door opens. I halt, fixated on the doctor with a tablet in her hand. Finally.

“Mr. Snyder, apologies for the wait,” she says, smiling at Sam calmly, as if nothing is happening.

“It’s okay. I’m not in any pain,” Sam responds to her, emphasizing every word of the second sentence, his eyes shifting pointedly toward me with a frown.

I wish I could calm down for his sake, I do.

I was there to soothe him and drive him to the hospital, but once we got here and since they took him away to admit him, I haven’t been able to control this overwhelming panic taking over me.

Every possible negative scenario rushes through my head, over and over again, and in the end, I know I am the one at fault.

“That is good. I’m Dr. Denver,” she tells me. Sam had already spoken to her when he was admitted, I think. “First off, let me assure you that neither Sam nor the baby are in any danger.” Relief hits me like a tidal wave, powerful enough to weaken my knees.

Succumbing to his indication for me to come closer, I move to rest against the side of Sam’s bed, holding his hand. He flashes me an ‘I told you’ expression, as if he wasn’t as panicked and worried just a few moments ago.

“Okay.”

She continues, looking down at her tablet. “The bleeding was caused by partial detachment of the placenta from the uterine wall. The condition is called Placental Edge Separation, and it’s not at all unusual in male omegas.”

“Is that serious?” I ask, trying not to sound too freaked out.

“In severe, rare cases. Sam’s is fairly mild, as we’ve concluded from the ultrasound we did earlier. We also checked the baby’s heart rate and well-being, and like I told Sam, she was essentially unaffected,” she says with a calming smile.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I nod and squeeze Sam’s hand. He looks much more relaxed, too.

“Usually, we’d send you home, with strict orders to rest and avoid any physical strain.

But…considering your late stage of pregnancy, you being a male, and the fact the separation is larger than we would like—not concerning or dangerous, only worthy of monitoring—I would like to recommend you stay in the hospital and possibly induce.

Not right now; in a day or two, perhaps. ”

I feel Sam tense up. “Oh?”

“Pregnancy of male omegas differs slightly from that of females, as you know. It is a few weeks shorter. You are already nearly thirty-six weeks,” she says, pausing only to double-check on the tablet, “which is an ideal time we like to reach. Waiting longer, and allowing the baby to grow larger, might be counterproductive and make labor more difficult. I always like to aim for a natural birth before choosing a Caesarean, which is needed in many post-term labors of male omegas. But if you wish to—”

“No,” Sam interrupts, looking at her firmly. “No, I want to do what you think is best. This…this is fine. As long as it’s beneficial for both of us.”

“It is. You’re in good health otherwise. It’s quite likely that once we start inducing, your body will take over and lead you into it smoothly. All the positive markers are there.”

I gently brush Sam’s hand with my thumb, realizing he might be nervous about the finality of it all.

He thought he had more time. I did, too.

Or rather, I didn’t even think about how close he was to this massive change.

No wonder, with all the chaos happening lately.

But now everything is okay, and he can go through labor with a little more peace knowing that.

“Can you please tell him it’s not his fault this happened?” Sam blurts out with a slightly pinched expression on his face.

Dr. Denver laughs lightly.

“You said at admission that you were engaging in a…”

“He was fingering me. No penetration,” Sam says matter-of-factly, making my cheeks burn. Maybe I am a lot more immature than he is.

What did he say? That I have a ‘young spirit’? She might be a doctor and a professional, but it still makes me feel like a naughty kid, talking about that sort of thing in front of her.

“Ah, yes. I can assure you that it couldn’t have caused the issue,” she announces confidently, giving me a tight-lipped smile.

“It was most likely due to a slight excess of amniotic fluid. It increased the pressure in the uterus and the subsequent separation. Again, the degree of the excess wasn’t too concerning, though it is something worthy of monitoring in advance with any possible future pregnancies. ”

Sam turns his head to me, a crooked smile on his face. “Told you.”

“Okay. You were right.” If I could sink through the floor right now, I would.

“Thank you, doctor,” Sam says.

She nods. “Very well. You say you are comfortable, yes? Wonderful. I’m going to leave you for now. We will work out the details of the birth later. I’ll come back or have a nurse discuss with you the exact timeline.”

The moment Dr. Denver leaves the room, I let out a shaky exhale and bury my face in Sam’s hair, nuzzling it before he pulls away. “What was that about staying calm for me that you talked about in the class, hm?” he teases me.

“I was terrified I did something wrong! That I hurt you. Either of you…”

“All you did was make me feel good. Come on, bring the chair and sit down.”

The room might be small, but it’s private.

One bonus of working at the company we do is pretty good healthcare.

I pull the big blue chair in and lean on Sam’s bed again.

He’s absolutely gorgeous, even in a hospital gown.

White suits him. All that matters is that the fear is gone from his face. He looks almost content.

After a quick glance to make sure he’s fine with it, I reach out to rub his belly gently. There are two straps over it, some sort of monitor for the baby. I place my hand on top and hold it there, waiting until there’s a smooth movement.

“I’m so happy you’re both safe.”

Sam smiles, resting his head back. “Me too.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” A horrible sensation seizes my chest again, pushing the air out of my lungs. I try to shake it off, to remind myself it’s okay. When I look at Sam again, he has a strangely distant expression in his eyes.

“What is it?” I ask, squeezing his hand by his side. “Something’s bothering you?”

“It’s just…with the birth coming and— There’s something I’ve been thinking about. Something I haven’t been able to get out of the back of my mind ever since he turned up.”

“He can’t do anything anymore.”

“I-I know. It’s not that, it’s…” Pausing, Sam shifts his gaze to me again, and this time there’s almost too much closeness.

Too much emotion as he studies my face. “I know this is stupid. But I keep thinking about the moment I’ll be filling out the paperwork for her after she’s born”—he touches his belly—”and about the empty space under the ‘non-gestational parent’ field. ”

I open my mouth to object. Sam interrupts, determined.

“No, I know. I know that I don’t have to fill it.

I know it’s okay for me not to put anyone’s name in there.

I just… This has nothing to do with Brandon or what happened.

Well, maybe a little, but I think it bothered me even before he showed up.

It feels like…if I leave it empty, I’m somehow allowing this hypothetical space for them in her life. ”

Put my name in there.

It should be there.

I swallow the burning urge to voice those frenzied thoughts. I have no right. No claim. All I want is to protect him, protect both of them, and be there, and I don’t know what to say without sounding completely insane.

Sam closes his glistening eyes. Is he crying?

I reach out to cup his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. I can’t ask you to write your name there, no matter how much I want to. No matter how right it feels, when it shouldn’t.”

My heart skips a beat. “What? You…you want to?”

He shakes his head and looks away, but I pull him back in, staring at him without blinking or breathing. My pulse drums inside my head. “I want that, Sam.”

He chuckles bitterly. “Of course you do,” he mutters.

“What if I’m not the one being swayed by hormones here, Theo?

You know people’s pheromones change when they’re pregnant, right?

What if all this…what you’re feeling…is just that?

What if this baby comes out and that changes?

I know how much you want to be with me, and that you’d do anything for me, so asking you this felt like taking advantage of—”

I let go of his face and take both of his hands into mine, squeezing them tightly.

“I’m an adult. I’m sane, and I know what I’m feeling in my heart, Sam. This won’t happen. What you worry about is never going to happen.”

He’s fighting it. I see it on his face. Doubt and hope wrestle in his eyes, leaving behind distress that I just want to kiss away.

“It isn’t just some paper. It would make you responsible for child support. Give you rights you might not want. We both experience all these powerful emotions, but we barely know anything about each other. Don’t you think that’s irresponsible?”

“What do you want to know?” I understand it’s not that simple, not really.

At the same time, it is that simple inside my heart.

“I like pineapple on pizza. I’m kind of freaked out by spiders, but I hate killing them.

I love playing the guitar, sure, but I’ve always wanted to learn the violin.

My favorite animal is the fox—they’re cute, smart, and quirky, and the way they giggle maniacally is adorable.

My whole life, I’ve always gone with the flow and lived in the moment.

I never cared about having kids or the future, and now all I can think about is how to improve myself and my life and how to be the best person I can be.

For you. For her. I’ve never been one to change my mind fecklessly, Sam. ”

He stares at me without moving an inch, a tear gently rolling down his cheek.

I draw in air sharply to continue. “I know plenty about you, too. You’re left-handed.

I know that because you do a lot of things with your dominant hand.

You hold a knife and a fork the other way around, though, only the spoon in your left.

You don’t really like people, but you never gossip.

Not even about people who annoy you. You enjoy sour notes in food more than sweet ones.

Yeah, I don’t know what school you went to, or why you decided to do the work you do, or…

or a bunch of other stuff, but I want to learn, slowly. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

He parts his lips, shedding more tears. “Theo…”

“But maybe you’re right, and you shouldn’t put my name there. Maybe I pushed you, and this is only some hormonal, innate urge to latch on to a safe person to take care of you in your time of need. Maybe you won’t want me in your child’s life when this is over, and I don’t want you to have to—”

“Shut up,” he says, pulling me closer. “I might be hormonal, but I’m not out of my mind. I’m a fucking adult, too, and I…I’m not doing this for that reason.”

“I know you aren’t. I wasn’t suggesting that you were.”

“I didn’t need anyone before you came along, you understand?

I was determined to go through this alone.

To do it all by myself. I didn’t want anyone.

And now, when I think of something happening to me, god forbid, and her being alone, I…

I don’t think of my parents taking care of her, I think of you.

” Sam lets out a sob that sounds like joy, like relief.

I move in to hug him tightly, feeling his hands immediately wrap around my back and squeeze on tight.

His words keep playing in my head, like this is a dream I’m going to wake up from, and my mind is trying to hold on to it, to remember, until it slips away.

“Shhh… You’re going to upset the baby and make all the machines blare for the doctors to come,” I say, hoping to make him laugh, but even my voice breaks as I shed tears into his soft hair smelling of blackcurrant and sage and comfort.

It smells exactly as I always imagined love being like.

“I’m not upset,” he mumbles between sobs. “I’m happy. I’m…I’m telling you that maybe I’m buying into us being fated mates, okay? That’s what I’m trying to get out.”

I move away, perhaps a little too quickly. “Are you serious?” I whisper, a quaver passing through my voice.

Sam glares at me. “Of course I’m serious!” He sounds almost offended.

I want to believe him. My god, I want to believe that he’s telling me what I’ve longed to hear and never imagined I would. At least not for a…long time.

“I might not experience it the same way you do. Maybe… Ah, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he mutters to himself while wiping away his tears.

“Maybe everybody experiences it differently. Yeah, I haven’t felt the instant, unmistakable pull toward you that you have, but there was something, looking back.

Something difficult to grasp but…steadfast and true. ”

My heart feels so full I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to squeeze him so hard he’ll feel it beating against his chest, and I want to kiss him until there’s no air left in my lungs.

“Now you’re the one getting upset.” He chuckles, petting me over the head.

“I’m not upset. I’m…”

“Happy. I know,” he says softly. “Whatever this is, even if there’s no such thing as fated mates…then we choose to love each other. I choose you because you made me feel understood. Safe. And that’s powerful in itself.”

Sobbing like a baby and shaking with pure, unfathomable joy, I kiss him again.

He’s right. Fated mates or not, I choose him, and will always choose him, no matter what. And by some damn miracle, he chose me, too.