[ARTEMY]
I vowed to stand guard against those demons. I pledged to wage that battle for her, just as I had promised to restore her shattered serenity.
My chest constricted, and unbidden tears welled in my eyes. It was a rare instance, an unexpected vulnerability.
Tears. Damn tears. I was allowing them to flow.
“I’ll await your call,” Claire murmured before rising from her seat. Nona swiftly took her place, readjusting the towel around Rebecca. With a gentle gesture, she drew the comforter over her, then stepped back.
Bernadette’s gaze was fixed on Rebecca, her usual expressionless visage unchanged. After a brief moment, she departed with Claire, their departure devoid of words.
Wyatt approached me, his voice gentle. “Can I proceed with stitching you up?”
In response, I extended my injured leg toward him. As he extracted the bullet and sewed the wound, I clenched my teeth, enduring the searing pain that felt like a relentless fire. Yet, amidst the agony, my attention kept returning to the serene sight of Rebecca sleeping, a balm to my discomfort.
Caught in her presence, I scarcely acknowledged the needle’s prick as Wyatt concluded his work. After scrutinizing his efforts, he placed a fresh bandage over the injury before standing up.
Wyatt exited the room wordlessly, leaving a concerned Nona to tend to Rebecca, her forehead furrowed with lines of worry.
My voice almost absent-minded, I inquired, sweeping Rebecca’s hair from her face, “How’s Lynda?”
In hushed tones, Nona responded, “She’s resting.”
A silent nod from me conveyed my understanding. The weight of all that had transpired hung heavily, and I pondered how we could ever recover from it.
As I began to draw the comforter over myself, Brayden entered the room. “Painkiller,” he muttered, passing me a glass and a handful of pills.
“What did Wyatt and Claire say?” He queried.
I shrugged, hastily swallowing the pills. “Rebecca’s bruises will heal. Claire mentioned an ultrasound.”
“Artemy, the baby-”
“Not now,” I interrupted, halting him. “I can’t dwell on that now. My focus is on Rebecca.”
As I turned away, Brayden sighed audibly. After a pause, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Tenderly planting a kiss on Rebecca’s forehead, I enveloped her with my arm, pulling her close to my chest. Disregarding the persistent ache in my leg, I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Angel. For letting you down, for not listening. I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I swear I’ll never falter again,” I murmured in her ear. “You mean everything to me, Rebecca. I just need you to wake up. We’ll sort out the rest later. I promise, I won’t leave your side,” I whispered, my voice laden with emotion.
Yet, she remained still, not a hint of movement. Her motionlessness felt like a blade stabbing at my heart, an ache for her well-being.
As the seconds, minutes, and hours ticked away, my resolve wavered. My eyelids grew heavy, and despite my efforts, they refused to stay open.
A surge of frustration washed over me as my vision blurred and weariness overtook me.
My hold on Rebecca tightened once more. As darkness swept me into its embrace and my eyes closed, realization dawned.
That damn bastard. He had drugged me. Foolish sleeping pills.
***
Drowsiness gave way to the fluttering of my eyelids as consciousness slowly seeped in. The world around me was a blur, and I teetered on the edge of wakefulness.
After a few seconds, my eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight, and I found myself holding Rebecca tightly, her form nestled against mine.
A surge of alertness shot through me when I noticed my hand resting on her gently curved abdomen. I hesitated, a wave of uncertainty freezing me in place.
My throat felt parched suddenly, and I swallowed, attempting to dislodge the lump forming there. Gently, I pressed my palm against the roundness beneath it. The towel had slipped away, leaving my hand in direct contact with her skin.
Her belly was taut, yet surprisingly soft to the touch.
Fixated on the contrast between my rugged, broad hand and her delicate skin, I marveled at the sight. My palm covered about half of the swell of her stomach, a stark juxtaposition to her enduring beauty, even adorned with faint bruises.
My gaze lingered on her abdomen, and almost unconsciously, I began tracing small circles with my fingers. As realization dawned upon me, I moved to retract my hand, but an abrupt halt arrested my intentions.
Wide-eyed, I drew in a sharp breath, a rush of bewilderment coursing through me.
Something had happened again. Another sensation, more pronounced this time.
My hand had shifted as I felt it-the movement within her.
Could it be…?
Leaning closer, my face mere inches from her belly, I counted the seconds, anticipation building within me.
Just as doubt started to creep in, it happened again. And again. Each time with more vigor. I recoiled slightly, taken aback by the force of it.
–
“Mommy, can I feel the baby?”
Her hand guided mine to her gently rounded abdomen. Upon contact, I was met with a vigorous kick.
“She’s kicking really hard,” I whispered.
“You used to kick even harder.”
“I was feeling Princess moving.”
–
Suppressing the surge of unwelcome memories, I placed my hand on Rebecca’s pregnant belly once more.
And there it was again-the movement. A kick, perhaps a punch.
The baby was active, and I was connected to his activity.
Without conscious thought, my fingers brushed over the spot where the motion had occurred. “You’ve finally decided to make yourself known,” I murmured, a sense of wonder in my voice.
A slight tremor passed through her belly, and I watched in awe, completely entranced.
Emotions swirled within me, a complex blend I struggled to untangle. Dissonance prevailed-resentment for the situation juxtaposed with fascination for the baby’s movements.
The constriction in my chest and the fluttering of my heart told a different story. It wasn’t the baby I despised, but the circumstances. Yet, the baby was intrinsically tied to those circumstances.
The baby’s movements interrupted my introspection once again. I withdrew my hand, shaking my head as I glanced up.
And then I saw them-startlingly beautiful green eyes locked onto mine.
A beat skipped in my chest, my heart momentarily suspended.
Those eyes, so longed for, met mine, and in that instant, my breath caught.
A fragile smile quivered on my lips as I leaned in, drawing closer to her. Her eyes, a shimmering shade of emerald, held a captivating gleam in the morning light. Her black hair sprawled across the pillows as she blinked at me, still drowsy.
Radiant. She was a vision of divinity, an earthly angel.
My Rebecca had returned.
A gentle smile adorned my face as my hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek.
“Rebecca,” I uttered hoarsely, my thumb tenderly gliding over the soft, velvety texture of her skin.
A subtle warmth enveloped her gaze, and a delicate smile graced her lips like a whispered secret.
“You… you… have his eyes,” she murmured with a voice that held both fragility and significance.
Her words caught me off guard, her voice a fragile croak that seemed to carry a profound weight. Rebecca was speaking!
Yet, a cloud of confusion quickly dimmed my elation. “Whose eyes, Angel?” I inquired, my mind struggling to make sense of her cryptic words.
Silence lingered, my muscles tensing with anticipation. After a beat, she finally continued, her voice as soft as a breeze, “A… Ar… Artemy.”
What?
“Rebecca, what are you talking about? It’s me, Artemy. I am Artemy,” I protested, my perplexity deepening. And then, unexpectedly, she closed her eyes.
“No, no, no,” panic surged within me. “Angel, open your eyes. Come on, reveal those beautiful green eyes.”
But my pleas fell short. Barely catching a glimpse of her eyes, I yearned for her to stay awake, to hear her voice. I was ready to beg, to discard any semblance of dignity for that one connection.
All that mattered was her, in that moment of desperation. “Angel,” I implored, my grip on her shoulders growing urgent. “Please, say something.”
Stillness prevailed; she remained unmoved.
Had I missed her awakening? Had I been asleep during her conscious moments?
How could I have been so recklessly negligent?
This time, sleep was out of the question. I resolved to keep my eyes open, vigilant against the encroaching darkness.
My heartbeat raced like a caged bird’s wings, its frantic rhythm a reflection of my own feeling of captivity and suffocation.
I felt as though I was an outsider, observing events from a distant vantage point. Rebecca appeared distant, slipping away each time I tried to reach for her amidst the shadows.
She faded relentlessly, and I was left with an overwhelming void.
No!
Gently, I clasped her hand within mine, pouring out words as time stretched on.
I pleaded for her awakening, for absolution, for her love.
Promises flowed, commitments to safeguard and cherish her.
Despite my coaxing, my urging, my relentless pushing, Rebecca remained still, untouched by my efforts.