138 Hospital and Things
Lucian
I told Austin to take Tina in for a full medical check-up. After what happened to Tiffany, I wasn’t taking any more chances. I didn’t care how manipulative Tina had been-I wanted her alive to care for her child and eventually go back to Joey. I wasn’t going to have another woman fall apart on my watch.
That week, I worked from home and helped Mara with Darian’s newborn. He stayed at the hospital, refusing to leave Tiffany’s side. He hadn’t even named his daughter yet-said Tiffany would name her when she woke up. If she woke up.
He looked rough. His beard had grown out in the space of a week, a far cry from the clean-shaven man we all knew.
Honestly, he looked more like me now.
But Tiffany hadn’t improved. No movement. No response. Just silence and machines.
Mara was getting attached to the baby-cradling her, humming to her, even speaking softly as she rocked her to sleep.
And I couldn’t blame her. That child had no one else.
Our s*x life took a hit that week. Between the baby’s schedule, Mara’s pregnancy, and the weight of everything going on-it was hard to find time or energy. But it was worth it. For Mara. For that little girl. For Darian.
That night, Mara and I were lying in bed. We’d just changed the baby’s diaper and finally rocked her to sleep. The lights were dim, and the house was quiet. Mara curled into my arms and rested her head on my chest.
“Lucian,” she said softly.
“Hmm?”
“If Tina’s baby turns out to be yours… do you think we should take the baby from her?”
The question hit me harder than I expected.
“That’s… a big commitment, Mara,” I said slowly. “You’re pregnant. Tina’s going to have to care for her child herself. I’ll pay for a nanny if I have to. And who knows-maybe my father will take the child.”
She sat up in bed and looked down at me.
“Darian doesn’t trust his daughter with Martha, and she’s his mother. You really think your father or Tina are the better
options?”
I sighed. I didn’t want to talk about Tina. The whole situation made my skin crawl. She was due in a few weeks, and my
panic had been climbing steadily. Deep down, I didn’t want the child to be mine. But knowing how manipulative Tina was,
there was a high chance it was.
“Can we not do this right now, Mara?” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’ve got enough on my plate.”
She shook her head. “We have to talk about it. If we don’t make a decision now, we’ll be scrambling when the baby gets
here.”
“I said not now,” I snapped, then immediately regretted it.
I got out of bed, pacing.
“Please, Mara,” I said more gently. “I just… I can’t deal with her tonight.”
She didn’t argue. Just nodded, quiet, pulling the blanket tighter around her. I hated disappointing her-but I was already drowning in stress, and Tina was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have.
1/3
< 138 Hospital and Things
Two Weeks Later
The call came in the morning.
Darian.
Tiffany’s awake.
+8 Points
Mara was already getting dressed to go to the hospital when her phone rang. She answered-and then her face lit up for the first time in days. Tears filled her eyes, but they weren’t from sadness this time.
We were both overjoyed.
We gathered the baby, packed what we needed, and headed straight to the hospital.
For the first time in weeks, there was hope.
Real, tangible hope.
When we stepped into the hospital room, Tiffany was sitting up in bed:
She looked… peaceful. Rested in a way that almost didn’t make sense after everything. But I figured the coma had given her body what it needed-time to repair, to recover. She turned her head as we entered, and when her eyes met Mara’s, she stretched her arms out without a word.
Mara rushed forward and hugged her tightly.
I stepped up and gently placed the baby into Tiffany’s arms.
The moment she held her daughter, the tears came-soft, quiet, but impossible to miss. Her whole face crumbled with emotion. I looked over at Darian. His eyes were red, his beard now thick and unkempt. He looked exhausted, but in that moment, there was a glimmer of relief on his face.
This was a second chance.
I hoped he had the sense to grab it.
“Well,” I said, trying to give them space, “since Tiffany’s awake and looking strong, maybe we should give the two lovebirds some privacy to work things out. We’ll wait outside.”
But Tiffany shook her head immediately.
“No,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm. “There’s nothing to work out.”
Everyone froze.
“I don’t love Darian anymore,” she continued, eyes steady, voice even. “Right now, I just want to take my daughter, go back to that awful place, pack my things, and leave. I stayed this long to prove I wasn’t a slut. To prove the baby was his. Now I have nothing else to prove.”
Darian didn’t speak. Couldn’t, probably. His mouth opened, but no words came.
She held her daughter a little tighter, gently rocking her. And just like that, the walls that had once held the hope of
reconciliation crumbled.
It was clear now.
If Darian wanted a future with her, he’d have to fight for it from scratch.
