Page 12 of They Found Us
Noise outside my room pulls me away from my stare. Heavy footsteps and a nurse shouting has everyone turning to the door. It swings open, and my breath catches in relief and happiness. “Leo.”
He is a thing of beauty. He stands powerfully. His crisp suit is a little dishevelled, and his hair is far from the immaculate slicked-back style it was when he left. But he has never looked so handsome. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the reminder of when we first got to together in Italy. It was far from ideal, but it is our story, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. After a moment of Leo being stuck to the spot, I realise he hasn’t looked at me or our sons yet. He looks like he has seen a ghost. When Ilook along his line of vision, I see Vanna’s husband wearing the same disturbed expression.
“Alex,” Leo croaks.
The emotions running through me have my head spinning and my eyes blurring. My limbs start to feel heavy, and I’m worried I might drop my son.
“Paula, please,” I manage to muster through the shallow breaths I can’t help but take.
Paula quickly comes to my aid and takes my baby from my arms and then lifts Mark from the bed as well. Leo’s eyes eventually land on me. But his face disappears into darkness.
Just before I lose consciousness, I hear Leo boom through the room, “Get out! Get the hell out!”
Leo
The air is sucked from my lungs as watch my wife lose consciousness.
“Get out! Get the hell out!” I bellow at my dead brother. My mind is in overdrive, but my priority is my wife.
“What’s wrong with her? You need to help her,” I demand of the nurse, who is working quickly, checking monitors and changing a drip.
“Why don’t you take your boys to the family room, and I’ll send a doctor to come and speak to you.”
“No, I’m staying here.” My outbursts and the seriousness of the situation have Mark screaming and clinging on to my leg.
“Please, sir. Take your boys. Your wife is in good hands.”
Three more medical staff enter the room. One of them helps me push the tiny cot my newborn son has been placed in into the family room. I feel helpless. I don’t do well with not being in control. But for now, the best thing I can do is take care of my boys.
A nurse brings some milk, a blanket, and pillows for Mark, and he is soon asleep on a sofa beside me. Then she passes me some formula and the baby bag.
“Here.” The nurse places my newborn son in my arms. “He’s ready for a feed and no doubt a nappy change. If you need a hand or if there’s anything you need, just give me a shout. I’m right outside the door.”
As I hold him in my arms, I study his little face. His eyes are closed, but his brow is creased with a frown. His arms stretch out, and I place my index finger in his wrinkly hand. He squeezes it tightly and opens his eyes.
“Hello, little one. I am your papa.” And in that moment, our unbreakable bond is made. My protective mode is activated. I feel a wave of guilt for not being here when he was born and for leaving my wife alone in what has she been through. I wasn't there to protect her. I vow never to leave their sides again. As my youngest son begins to stir, I place his bottle between his lips. Once he tastes the milk, he feeds hungrily. While I appreciate these first moments with my son, I cannot help but think of my wife. While I cannot call myself a religious man, I turn to the god of the universe, praying for my wife to live.
Once feeding time is over and I have winded and changed my son, my impatience gets the better of me. As I open the door of the family room, I’m met with a red-haired man I presume is a doctor, given his attire.
“Mr Smith? Is it?” the doctor asks, rereading the notes he has in his hand. As no, I do not look like a Mr Smith.
When we relocated, we decided to keep our first names, as it would get too confusing, but we had to change our last name. So, for all intents and purposes, I am Mr Smith.
“Correct. How is my wife?”
“She is comfortable and conscious. And demanding to see you.”
Of course she is.
“Before you go to her, I would just like to go through her past medical history. Please take a seat.” The doctor gestures to the chair I was sitting on a moment ago.
“No, I’ll stand. Please continue.”
“As you wish. Has your wife ever suffered with any cardiological issues?”
“No.”
“Does she have any previous diagnoses or illnesses?”
