“Yeah, it’s not uncommon. Especially for someone who had as good of a last half of the season as Griff did. He was the leading point-scorer in all of college hockey.”
I already knew this. Even though Griff had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me, I still kept tabs on him. I needed to make sure he was doing okay. And by the looks of his stats, I’d say he was doing morethan okay.
It shouldn’t surprise me with how he behaved the last time I saw him that he would ignore my attempts to reach out to him. But there was still some small part of me that held out hope that he’d have a change of heart—that he’d want to be in his child’s life.
The following day, the surgeon comes into Cadence’s room just after seven in the morning.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Wilder. My name is Dr. Jordan. I’ll be the cardiologist performing your daughter’s procedure.”
I don’t correct the doctor, fearing they may make Carson leave the room if he isn’t a parent of Cadence.
“Thank you, Dr. Jordan,” I say, and he shakes both of our hands before leaving the room.
“Well, he has a strong handshake, so that makes me feel like he’ll have steady hands during the operation. That’s a good sign.” Carson attempts to put me at ease.
I love him for trying, but there’s no reassuring me right now. I’m a complete mess. Signing paperwork stating I consent to a medical procedure that could cause injury or even death to my daughter is not something I envisioned doing when I thought about what it’d be like to be a mother someday.
A nurse comes in and says, “I’m going to be taking your daughter to the operating room. Can you please confirm her name and date of birth?”
I do. Then the nurse states Carson and I can go with Cadence until we get to the entrance of the sterile field. I wish I could take her out and hold her just one time before they take her away.
The moment the nursing staff wheels Cadence’s incubator past the sterile field, I crumble into Carson’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably for so long my tears run dry. I pray with every fiber in mybeing for my daughter to make it through this procedure and, hopefully, into my arms.
Watch over her for me, Katie.
Part 2
Almost a year and a half later . . .
20
July
I’m panic cleaning our new place. It’s not a mess, but I want everything to be as tidy as possible for when the woman I’m interviewing gets here.
Carson just purchased a house a few weeks ago with his rookie signing bonus. I told him not to, but he said between his trust and the signing bonus, he had more money than he knew what to do with and that investing in real estate was something his agent suggested.
Speak of the devil, I remove Carson’s noise-canceling gaming headset from his head. He peeks up from his spot on the couch with a what-the-fuck look on his face.
“Carse, can you help me pick up quickly before she arrives?” I ask.
He answers me with a question. “Before who arrives?”
“You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?” I question with a huff. “The nanny I’m interviewing to help watch Cadence a few days a week.”
“Wait, you’re hiring a nanny? Is she hot?”
“Seriously? No. Nope. You’re not messing this up for Cades and me. I need someone I can trust to take good care of my daughter and not bone my brother!”
“I mean, multitasking is a great skill to have on a resume—definitely comes in handy while nannying.”
“You’re incorrigible. I wonder why you’re still single . . .”
“Coming from my very single twin sister.” He flashes me the sassiest of smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Can you just help me? Quickly. She will be here any minute. Just pick up the wrappers from the coffee table and fold the blankets on the couch. I’ll do a quick sweep of the kitchen.”
Just as I’m putting a few of Cadence’s toys away, the doorbell rings. I jog to the front door and swing it open to find a beautiful brunette woman in front of me. She’s got the brightest smile that reaches up to her emerald-green eyes.
