What could he say?
What could he do to make her see that he loved her and he regretted what he’d done? He loved her so damn much, and there didn’t seem to be a damn thing he could do about any of this.
He was a man who’d built himself up from nothing, and now look at him. He couldn’t figure out how to get his wife to forgive him.
There was no way he’d accept defeat. They were going through a rough patch. They would get through this.
With the ultrasound in his hand, he went back to the table and ate every bite of his dinner. She’d made it for him. There was no way he was going to let his wife come home to find it in the trash.
After he finished, he took his plate to the kitchen and washed it. Rather than let it drain, he dried it, and then headed back into the dining room.
He checked the time and saw it had been nearly half an hour. Fear ran up his spine as he constantly glanced at his watch.
Just when he was about to lose his mind, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. The elevator opened and closed, taking him down to the main floor. He stepped out of the elevator as his cell phone rang.
Without looking at the person on the display, he answered. “Eastwood.”
“Is this a Mr. Drake Eastwood?”
“Yeah, who’s calling?”
He stopped as the woman on the line told him her name, and that she was calling from the hospital.
“We have a Mrs. Mira Eastwood—”
Drake took off out of his apartment building. The hospital wasn’t too far from where he lived. There was no time to get to the underground parking. He stopped listening to the woman on the phone and ran the short distance to the hospital.
He saw several police cars outside of the hospital and he ran straight past them, pushing people out of his way as he entered the building. There was a small line of people waiting to speak to the main receptionist.
Ignoring all of them, even their complaints at him jumping the line.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to get—”
“You called me. Told me my wife was here. Mira Eastwood.”
“Sir, I haven’t made any such call.”
“Damn it, I was just on the phone with you. From someone here.” He started to get angry and noticed two police officers approaching. He didn’t care if they wanted to arrest him, he wasn’t going anywhere until he had seen his wife. The call wasn’t a prank. “You told me my wife was here. Don’t play games with me. I’ll have your fucking job, do you hear me?”
“Sir!” one of the police officers said, approaching.
He held his hand up. “Don’t make me call your fucking boss. I got a call my wife was in this hospital, and she’s fucking pregnant.”
“You need to remain calm.”
“Fuck calm.”
“Mr. Eastwood?”
He turned to the feminine voice. A nurse approached and the two police officers stepped back.
“You called me?”
She nodded. She looked to the police officers. “He’s the husband of the woman you just brought in.”
Drake looked at the men and he saw the pity in their gaze.
“What the fuck happened? Where is Mira?”
“Your wife is in surgery. There was an accident.”
Mira was in surgery. Drake listened, feeling his world starting to tilt. While Mira was at the pharmacy, an addict had entered the store. He’d been on drugs and held a gun. Drake couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
The addict had gotten angry and started to shoot up the store. Mira had been hit.
“The bullet is near her heart. We have been able to stabilize her and the baby is fine.”
“Fuck the baby,” Drake said.
“Sir?”
“No, you listen to me. I will shut down this entire fucking hospital if anything happens to my wife. She is the only person that matters. Do you hear me? She has to live. She has to … live. I fucking love her. Tell the doctors, I don’t know how long it takes but they have to make sure she wakes up. They … make sure she wakes up.”
“Sir?”
Drake grabbed his chest. Everything was spinning. Mira was in the operating room. His wife could die. Shot at.
“Breathe.”
He couldn’t get enough air.
The world started to move from under him. He looked into the police officers’ faces as the world went black.
Chapter Twelve
“Drake, Drake…”
He opened his eyes slightly, groaning as he shifted under the starch-white sheets.
“Can you hear me?”
Mira ran her hand through his hair. She’d been a basket case, crying and praying, reliving their short time together over and over. Why had she been so hard on him? How would she raise a child on her own?
“Mira?”
He tried to sit up, but she put a hand to his chest to keep him down. “Rest, Drake. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“You’re up walking already? How is that possible?”
When he grabbed her hand like a lifeline, he surprised her. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re out of surgery. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Thank God you’re okay.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “I wasn’t in surgery, Drake, you were. But everything’s going to be fine. You’ll be home before you know it.”
Drake shook his head, tugging her closer. Even though he’d been out cold for two days and undergone surgery, he was still strong. “They said there was a bullet next to your heart. They didn’t sound hopeful. The baby? Is the baby okay?”
He was talking crazy. Maybe it was the painkillers
