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Calm, he says? Calm? That’s the last thing I could possibly be right now.

I have no idea how Alex has pulled it off, nor do I really give a shit, but when he comes back out of the club with our wide receiver, Daren, he tells me we’re heading to a private airstrip. I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here and get to my girl and my baby.

Alex isn’t getting any more information out of Quinn before we take off, but she’s said that she’ll email updates if there are any. There haven’t been yet… It’s pure torture.

My mind hasn’t slowed down since Alex told me about the accident. What on Earth was Ashley doing out that late? Why did that drunk fuck have to hit her? Of all people, why Ashley? Hasn’t she been given enough shit to last a lifetime? What if she doesn’t make it? What if the baby doesn’t make it? Oh God, the baby!

“Tag, you need to breathe, buddy,” Alex says, coming over to sit next to me as soon as the pilot tells us we’re free to move around the cabin. “We have no idea how bad things are yet. I’m sure that when we get there, they’ll have her stabilized and everything will be fine.”

I give him a look that says something between “Are you fucking kidding?” and “Do you really believe the shit that you just said?”

Alex seems to understand my glare immediately and says, “I don’t know what to think, but I have to hope, man. I have to believe everything will be okay when we get there.”

“And what if it’s not?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Do you not remember what Quinn said? They had to use the Jaws of Life, man. When has that ever resulted in everything being okay? I can’t lose either one of them.” I’m on the verge of tears. “I just can’t.”

“Just try to stay positive. That’s all you can do for right now,” Daren says from his chair across from us. I’d totally forgotten he was here. I should probably thank him for leaving early and letting us catch a ride with him on his flight home, but I can’t focus on him right now.

“He’s right, Tag,” Alex chimes in.

I shake my head, thinking about how much I’ve really fucked everything up. “She should have never even been in Jersey today, Alex. She should have been in Miami with us. She would’ve been if I wasn’t such an asshole. Anything happens to either one of them, it’s on me, man. It’s all on me.”

“Tanner, it was an accident. It’s not your fault at all. It’s the fault of that motherfucker who got behind the wheel drunk.”

“You can tell me that all you want, but we both know the truth, bro. If she had been with us, she would be perfectly fine right now. Why wasn’t she with us, Alex? Me—that’s why. Because I was such a blind bastard.”

Alex continues to argue his point, but his reasoning falls on deaf ears. He can keep on until he’s blue in the face; I know that this is my fault. And if something happens to either one of them, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.

Arriving at the hospital does nothing to calm my nerves. If anything, it makes them worse. The sun is rising, and it feels like judgment day. Going into that building might rip my world apart, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’ve spent the twenty minute drive from the airport to the hospital terrified of what I would find when we got here. The time had gone faster than I’d expected, not giving me much time to steel myself—unlike the three-hour flight that had felt like a year. It’s been over four hours since we found out about Ashley’s accident, but it already feels like a lifetime ago.

“Come on, buddy. We need to head in. Quinn needs us, and we have to find out what’s going on,” Alex says, ushering me through the revolving door into the emergency department. Alex stops at the reception desk to ask where we need to go. As the desk clerk is giving him directions, his phone rings.

“Hey, baby, we’re here. Okay… okay… We’ll be there in two minutes. Ask him to hold off just a second, okay?” Alex hangs up, turning to grab my arm and pull me down the corridor I’m assuming, based on the signs, leads to the ICU.

“The doctor just came out to give an update on Ashley, and they’re asking for the baby’s father. We need to move it.”

Those words snap me out my trance, and I pick up the pace, forcing Alex to do the same. If they’re asking for the baby’s father, that has to be a good sign, right? I know it could mean anything, but I’m hoping—praying—it means everything is okay with both of them.

We round the corner into a larger waiting room where we find Quinn. She’s hard to miss as she paces in circles, her face splotchy and eyes swollen. It takes him less than a second to rush to her side and wrap his arms around her—like I wish I could do for Ashley, but Lord knows where or how she is in this godforsaken place.

When the doctor appears, Quinn informs him I’m the baby’s father, and we all wait to hear what news he has.

“First of all, Ashley has sustained many severe injuries.”

Quinn gasps audibly, and her eyes fill with tears. None of us wanted this conversation to start that way. Alex pulls her into his side as he grabs a hold of my arm in support for what is about to come next. Taking a deep breath, I give a nod for the doctor to continue.

“Ms. Taylor, as you know, Ms. Mitchell has given you medical power of attorney, so all healthcare decisions are your responsibility for the time being.”

Quinn gives a halfhearted nod. “That stupid form wasn’t ever supposed to matter,” she whispers. “I only signed it because she said over her dead body would she allow her mother to make important decisions in her life…” A few tears slide down her cheek.

After giving her a moment, the doctor continues, “As I said, Ashley has several severe injuries. Let’s start with the least complicated first. Her spleen was ruptured in the accident, causing a large amount of internal bleeding, which led to hypovolemic shock. That’s typical with a lot of blood loss. We removed her spleen due to the rupture and gave her several units of blood. She has also sustained a punctured lung from a broken rib, which subsequently led to a collapsed lung, so we inserted a chest tube to remove the excess air. Right now, Ashley is on a ventilator to help her breathe while her lung recovers. She shouldn’t need it for more than a day or two, but we’ll monitor her progress closely.”

Good God, please let that be all.

“Ashley’s left arm was also broken, and an orthopedic surgeon was needed to repair it due to the severity of the break, which required screws and pins to be set. Her arm will be monitored for signs of infection, just in case any debris from the accident was missed during surgery. Her right knee was also partially dislocated but was repaired after her arm, and she won’t require any major reconstructive surgery for that. For now, she just needs to keep it elevated and free from pressure. All of the injuries I’ve mentioned should heal just fine, provided there are no complications. Our main concern right now is the injury to her brain.”

Quinn can’t hold back her sobs any longer, and I can’t say that I blame her. My poor Ashley. She’s so broken. I wish it were me in here. I would give anything to trade places with her. Based on everything the doctor’s said so far, I know deep down there’s nothing good left to say. It sounds as though he hasn’t even given us the worst of the news yet, and he hasn’t even mentioned anything about the baby.

Once Alex seems to have Quinn calmed down, the doctor continues once more, “Ashley’s brain went without a sufficient amount of oxygen for a while and also suffered trauma from the impact itself. There’s some swelling. We’ll be watching closely to make sure that the swelling doesn’t get to a point where we need to alleviate the pressure by opening her skull. The brain hypoxia is more of a concern right now. We won’t know the extent of the damage it caused until she wakes up—if she wakes up. More often than not, people with extreme hypoxia have severe to permanent brain damage. We’ve done what we can, but from this point on, it’s all on her.”

Hearing those last words, my knees buckle, and Alex struggles to guide me into a seat on my way down. I don’t care that everyone can see the tears freefalling from my eyes. All I can think about is that my beautiful, vibrant Ashley may never be the same. I’d rather have her hate me forever than wake up with brain damage—if she wakes up at all. God, this can’t be happening. No. No. No. A sudden loud sobbing pulls me from thoughts of Ashley. I open my eyes to see Quinn and Alex kneeling in front of me, trying to comfort me, but I don’t hear anything other than the gut wrenching sobs all around me.

“Tag, calm down. She’s going to pull though. I know it,” Alex says, fighting back his own tears.

“She’s too stubborn to go like this, Tanner. She’s going to wake up,” Quinn adds.

It’s then that I realize the loud sobs are coming from me. They’re trying to console
me
.

“What about the baby?” I ask, looking back up to the doctor.

The grim expression on his face is all I need to confirm my worst fears.

“The force of the accident caused the placenta to detach from the uterine wall. There wasn’t anything that we could do by the time Ashley arrived. He was stillborn. We’re just thankful that the abruption didn’t cause us to lose Ashley as well, which is very common. Part of the reason I was asking if you’d arrived is because we can allow you to spend some time with the baby and Ashley before we have to take him away,” he explains apologetically.

“Him?”

Ashley had never told me if she’d found out the sex of the baby. She’d barely told me anything at all about the pregnancy. She’d been too busy telling me it was too late and that they didn’t need me. I’d gladly step away now if it meant life for both of them.

“Yes, the baby was a boy. If you like, I can have the baby brought to Ashley’s room so that you may spend a little bit of time with the two of them. I’m so sorry that this is all I have to offer you,” the doctor says sincerely while motioning for me to follow through the double doors behind him.

I look back at Quinn and Alex before heading through the doors. Quinn cries into Alex’s chest as he rubs her back. His eyes, filled with sympathy and sorrow, never leave mine. I would gladly take the look of disgust that he’d been giving me for weeks instead if it meant that this wasn’t really happening. Maybe this is one of my god-awful nightmares, and I’ll wake up soon to realize that this was nothing but my subconscious telling me to get my shit together once again.

I know that isn’t the case as soon as the doctor leads me into Ashley’s room. She looks so small and broken, lying in the middle of the bed, hooked up to tubes and wires and machines that are keeping her alive. There are so many wires.

God, this isn’t fucking fair! Why Ashley? Couldn’t this have been anyone other than her? Why her? Why me?

The doctor is explaining to me how she’s getting fluids, antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and pain medication when there’s a small knock on the door. A nurse enters, carrying something small bundled in a blanket—my son. She gives me a grim smile while gingerly handing over this special little man. He’s barely as big as my hands.

I choke on a sob at my first glimpse of his perfect little face. He’s a handsome devil, despite his purple color. His head is smaller than my fist, and I’m terrified that the slightest movement will break him. Then I remember that I can’t break what’s already broken.

Placing my forehead against his, I let it all out. I cry for everything that he’s lost, everything that he’ll never experience because the world is an unfair place. I cry for the things that I’ll never get to tell him, the lessons I’ll never get to teach him, the love he’ll never feel for anyone—the sort of love I feel for him and his mother. I cry for Ashley and the fact that she’ll never get see him, never get to hold him, and never get to smell him. I cry because, unlike me, she’ll never get to tell him to his face how much she loves him.