I walked down the tiled hall. Everything was white—white tile, white walls, white doors, white ceiling, white rooms—if it weren’t a solid white, it’d be speckled in blue.

The typical sterile scent of the hospital invading my nostrils, not helping at all with the knots in my stomach nor my heavy heart.

The frowning nurse led me further into the unsettling halls and my mind continued to overbear itself with thoughts of not having Areila in my life anymore.

I’d go back to working long hours with no one to come home to. I wouldn’t come home to the wonderful smells of her baking or her quiet humming of nursery rhymes as she did chores around the house. I wouldn’t come home to the pounding of little feet or shrieking giggles like I’d hoped when our children had grown up enough to run and play and laugh.

But they wouldn’t get that chance—nor would they get they’re chance at life. My two little boys or girls would never be born.

My life would go back to being dull and nearly meaningless. It would consist of number crunching and problem solving and business meetings and nothing else. Not even women.

Yes. I couldn’t do that to Areila, almost-wife or wife-of-convenience or not, we had both agreed to marry each other and marriage means that you stick by their side ’til death do us part.

We’ve parted, but I know that I will never again find a woman like Areila. In my heart, we will never part.

The nurse stopped in front of a room and gently opened the door, letting me pass. Once I entered the room, my heart shattered painfully. My chest constricted, my throat closed with tears, and my feet refused to move any closer.

Her body, thin and delicate like it’d always been, was paler than usual and probably dead cold.

Wrong words to use, Geovani. I chastised myself, refusing to let the tears fall as they brimmed my eyes.

The gentle, yet obvious curve of her stomach was covered by the blue and white hospital blankets and my heart broke twice more for the loss of my unborn children.

Quiet footsteps were heard and I looked up to see a familiar face walk in. “Dr. Hanson?” I asked. The man smiled and shook my hand.

Why did he have to smile at a time like this?

“Funny seeing you two again. You know, Areila had a hard time in the ER, but she’d perfectly fine now. A mild concussion, a few stitches on her lower lip and forehead.” Dr. Hanson rounded her hospital bed and tested the amount of liquid in a bag hanging off to the side of her unit.

Wait. My broken heart skipped a beat. She was. . .perfectly fine? She’s not. . .dead?

My eyes switched to the heart monitor and suddenly, the sounds of the hospital flooded my ears. There were steady beeps and hums filling the room and I realized Areila’s chest moving up and down gently, breathing, living.

She’s alive! The whole time I thought she was dead—she was alive!

In that moment, Areila’s eyes fluttered open but squinted in the bright light. I hurried to her side and grabbed her hand, gently brushing her hair back, away from her face. “Rafe?” She wondered aloud, “How’d you get here?” I smiled, trying to keep my voice from wavering with unshed tears,

“I drove you to the hospital after I found your car crushed against a tree.”

“Oh. . . Am I okay?” I nodded and bent down to kiss her forehead, letting a hot tear out, feeling it travel quickly down my heated skin to her’s.

“Yes, baby, you’re okay.”

“What about the babies?” I felt her head turn towards the doctor and I slowly straightened myself, only tightening my grip on her hand.

“Well. . .” Dr. Hanson turned and focused his attention to another machine somehow connected to my fiancèe’s small body.

“Well. . . ?” I prompted. If Areila was okay, the babies had to be okay too, right?

“Well,” Dr. Hanson repeated, “Areila gave us a bit of a scare in the ER causing the babies to go into something you could call shock. Baby A recovered quickly as we saw on the ultra sound we’d given you will you were still unconscious. I apologize for that, given we did not have your permission to, but I thought it’d be in your best interest that we found out what we could about your children’s health state—”

“Baby A? Only baby A? What about baby B? Is he okay?” Ari’s hand gripped on to mine, fearful of the doctor’s next words.

What if he didn’t make it? Areila would be so crushed. I would be crushed.

“Baby B is fine now, of course. The shock simply lasted longer than its sibling’s.” Dr. Hanson assured, “They’ll both be perfectly fine.” Both Areila and I let out breaths we weren’t sure we were holding.

Areila was safe and the kids were okay. I was relieved.

Dr. Hanson fiddled with a notch on the machine once more before turning to Areila with a smile. “Have you found out the their genders or are you waiting to be surprised?”

“I have an ultra sound scheduled on Monday, but I can’t wait much longer,” Areila replied in a voice shaky with excitement, “I’d like to know what my babies are, but I’m not sure about Ra—”

“I want to know as well.” I cut in, smiling down at Ari.

“Well, I could let half the mystery go, or would you two like to wait for Monday?” Dr. Hanson grinned at the both of us, hands in his coat pockets.

“Half the mystery?” Areila asked. What did he mean by only half?

Dr. Hanson pulled out dark pictures from one pocket and handed them to Ari. “Baby A decided to reveal himself while baby B seems a bit more shy.” The doctor chuckled as Ari gazed at the sonographs from the ultra sound they performed with great interest.

“How can you tell?” She asked in awe. Dr. Hanson pointed to one baby and explained that his genitals were pointed up, whereas a girl would not show.

“Now it’s perfectly normal,” Dr. Hanson said, answering the question evident in Areila’s eyes. “You’ll just have to wait until Monday when the second baby is in a different position. But, otherwise, congratulations.”

Ari looked up at me with tears in her eyes, her hand over top her stomach. “Boys.” She laughed a moment later and shook her head, “You and your mother was right. I guess I am carrying mini you’s.” Before I could chuckle and revel in the slight victory, the doctor cut in with a chuckle of his own.

“Now, now. Just one boy. We’re not sure of the other one, although it is a seventy to thirty percent chance. . .baby B will most likely be a boy but he believes it’s too early to tell.”

Dr. Hanson’d quietly left moments later, leaving Areila gazing admiringly into my eyes. “Okay, boy,” she corrected, “but I’m still excited.” I found myself leaning down closer to my fiancèe as she spoke dreamily. “I can’t wait. Two little boys running through our house. Giggles and laughs and little clothes,” she giggled and my chest swelled with pride and happiness as she spoke of children in our home.

“You know, I’m really leaning towards Leo.” I told her, our lips just inches apart now. She shook her head teasingly,

“I like Antonio better.” She countered.

“How about Luca,” I tried.

“How about Raphael,”

“I could live with that,” I said, my lips pressing against her’s.

“So Raphael and Antonio?” She quizzed moments later.

“I’ll think about it.” She giggled and I kissed her forehead. “Get some rest tosoro, we’ll be home soon enough. And then you can debate on which names fit my children best.”

_____________________

 

Back in the waiting area, Valentine rushed towards me the moment I stepped out the heavy swinging doors. “Is she okay?” She questioned, her voice strained. I nodded, a large grin on my face.

“She’s perfectly fine. Just a mild concussion and a few stitches. She’ll be out tonight.”

“What about the kids?” Owen asked, coming up behind Valentine.

“They’re fine, too.” My grin only grew when I switched my gaze between the two. “And one of them is a boy.”

“Congrats, man.” Owen clapped me on the shoulder as Ari’s best friend awed dreamily.

“What about the other on though?” Valentine asked.

“The doctor said they weren’t sure yet, the second baby was turned away from the camera I guess,” I chuckled at the thought as I continued, “But he also said the first baby will most likely have a brother.”

_________________________

I sat in the bedside chair as Ari rested before she’d be released from the hospital, Dr. Hanson cleaning up a few of his tools and supplies, his back to me, at the other side of the small room. My eyes were just about to droop closed from the hard, long day Ari unintentionally put me through, when the door opened and an officer stepped in. He glanced at Ari’s sleeping form and turned to the doctor, whispering something in his ear and nodding when Dr. Hanson looked up at him in concern. A quiet moment passed before the aging doctor looked down at his hands and thanked him and the officer left without another word.

I watched Dr. Hanson’s still form for a silent beat before I called his name. When he didn’t answer, I stood, “Dr. Hanson? Is everything okay?” The man turned to face me with a solemn expression.

“That was on officer who was on Areila’s accident sight. They were inspecting the car and found a note between the windshield and wiper.”

“A note?” I asked, both curiosity and concern mixed into my voice. He nodded.

“Yes, they believe it was a threat. This wasn’t an accident.”

“What did the note say?”

“He gave me photographs of it because it’s evidence to her case now.” Dr. Hanson said as he pulled out a thin stack of pictures from his coat.

“Her case?” I muttered absentmindedly as he handed me the stack. I flipped through the pictures. Sure enough, a yellow paper was attatched to Ari’s from window, held down by the windshield wiper. The message faced the driver’s seat. Right where Ari had laid, left for dead. I finally flipped to a close, focused picture of the note.

My heart stopped. My lungs were void of air. My body paralyzed from shock before the anger could trigger in my brain, to let my body boil with rage. But for moments to come, I was only stunned still.

He can’t have you bitch, 
you and my kid belong to me, 
why don’t you understand that? 
You’re mine.
But if I can’t have you, 
no one will.