The nurse reached out her hand, touching his forearm lightly. “There isn’t. As I said, she was adamant about this.”
“But…”
“Mr Trevalyen, the hospital takes patient care very seriously. I’m sure it’s what Miss Harper had in mind when she chose to deliver her baby here.”
My baby, Theo amended inwardly. And he’d chosen that hospital to guarantee Imogen’s privacy and comfort. The idea of her being hounded by paparazzi all because of him had been abhorrent, and he’d heard along the grapevine that the patient care offered here was second to none.
It was a decision that was coming back to bite him in the most unappreciated manner. A loud cry tore him out of his angry reverie and his heart throbbed, twisted and split into thousands of pieces. Imogen. Crying out. She sounded like she was being murdered or skinned or worse.
“Sir?” The nurse prompted with a sense of urgency. “I have to get back in there.”
He nodded, but as the door pushed inwards, he heard Imogen cry out out again and every fibre of his being tore at him, begging him to go to her.
The nurse popped her head through the doors. “Don’t even think about it, or I will call security.”
More curses littered his mind. His stride was long as he paced towards the waiting room. But he didn’t sit down. He strode up and back, up and back, slowing outside Imogen’s door, waiting, listening, and praying. What would he say to her? Where had she been? Was she okay? How could he explain the Godawful mess his mother had unwittingly got him into? After all, it wasn’t all a complete misunderstanding. He had drawn up watertight custody arrangements. He swore under his breath, pacing a little more.
Finally, after two long hours, he heard it.
The cry of a newborn. A baby.
Their baby. His heart squeezed and tears filled his eyes. He stopped walking and stared at the doors, his heart in his throat as he waited, waited, waited. Seconds felt like hours. Time stopped.
Eventually, the nurse was there, a distracted smile on her face as she burst through the doors and turned towards the waiting room. But she saw Theo and adjusted her course.
“Well?” Theo asked, his face rich with emotion.
The nurse nodded. “The baby’s here.”
“Is it … is everything …”
“Mum and bubs are both fine.” Theo expelled a long breath of relief. “I’m going to tend to Imogen and then I’ll ask if she’s happy for you to come through.”
Imogen now, not Miss Harper. He supposed helping someone deliver a baby eroded the formal professionalism of last-names only.
“Thank you. Nurse? Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” she smiled kindly and turned around, moving back into Imogen’s delivery suite.
The wait was interminable and Theo was on the brink of overpowering every rational impulse and barging into the suite when, an hour later, the nurse reappeared.
“She’s asked you to come in,” the nurse said. “But she’s tired. I’m giving you five minutes.”
“Five fu--- five minutes?” He repeated, all the ice in his body sledging into the nurse.
She was unaffected. “Five minutes.”
Theo ground his teeth together and pushed into the room.
And froze. Time was still refusing to budge; it was thick around him, so too the air. He was wading through reality, and Imogen was an anchor he needed to get close to.
She was sitting, propped by at least four pale pillows, in the middle of a hospital-issue bed, her face flushed, a small, pink bundle in her hands. She held it clutched to her breast. She was wearing a soft, violet nightgown and her hair sat around her face in total disarray. A white blanket covered her from the waist down, and there was a tray of food beside her.
He stared at her and emotions he’d never known threatened to fell him; to bring him to his knees. He hadn’t seen her in a week but it felt like so much longer.
“Hey.” It emerged as a husky croak. He cleared his throat and took a step towards her but the fierce, angry resentment in her face made him ache for her.
The blame for her anger stood squarely at his feet.