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JESS
Walking into Laura’s hospital room was like stepping into another world–one that felt suspended in time. The sterile beeping of the machines filled the space, a constant reminder of how fragile everything was. Luke’s hand brushed against mine as we entered, our daughter holding tightly to my other hand, her little fingers wrapped around mine for comfort.
Josh was sitting in the corner, cradling his baby girl. The sight was enough to crack my already fragile composure. He rocked back and forth in the chair, his eyes locked on the tiny bundle in his arms. His lips moved, murmuring something soft and reverent, and it wasn’t until I moved closer that I could hear him.
“She’s so perfect,” he whispered, his voice cracking. He didn’t look up, and he hadn’t noticed us yet. His entire world was in that child–and in Laura, lying so still in the hospital bed. “She has to wake up. I can’t do this without her. I need her. I need her with me.”
The words were like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my own emotions in check.
Luke gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking over to Josh. He crouched down beside his best friend and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Josh, you’ve been here all night,” Luke said softly. “Why don’t you let me take her for a bit? Go home and have a shower. Eat something. We’ll be right here when you get back. I promise.”
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Josh finally looked up, his eyes red and puffy, the glaze of exhaustion and despair etched into every feature. He hesitated, clutching his daughter closer for a moment. “I don’t want to leave her,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
“I know, man,” Luke said, his tone steady and patjent. “But you‘ re no good to her like this. She’s going to need you to be strong when she wakes up. Let me help you.”
Josh’s resolve faltered, and he sighed heavily. “Okay,” he said finally, standing slowly. He handed his baby girl to Luke with a tenderness that nearly broke me. Watching him relinquish her felt like watching him hand over a piece of his soul.
Luke cradled the baby effortlessly, his fatherly instincts kicking in immediately. Meanwhile, Josh walked over to Laura’s bedside. His movements were hesitant as if he was afraid she might shatter under his touch. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, his lips lingering momentarily.
“I’ll be back, beautiful,” he murmured. “Don’t wake up without me.”
His hand found hers, and he clutched it tightly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. The sight of him–this strong, proud man brought to his knees by love and fear–shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.
As Josh turned to leave, he paused when he reached me. “Call me if anything changes,” he said. “I’ll be like fifteen minutes max.”
I couldn’t just let him walk out without some kind of reassurance. Reaching out, I took his arm and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened momentarily before melting into the embrace,
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his head dropping to my shoulder. “She’s going to be okay,” I whispered, hoping–praying–that it was true.
He nodded against me but didn’t say anything. When he finally pulled back, there was a flicker of something in his eyes–hope, maybe, or just the tiniest sliver of strength. He gave me a weak smile before walking out the door
I watched him go, my chest tightening with every step he took.
“Aunty Laura is sleeping right now, honey,” I said softly to my daughter, guiding her toward the bed. “But you can go hold her hand if you want.”
She nodded solemnly, her little face serious as she climbed onto the chair beside the bed. Her small hand reached out and wrapped around Laura’s limp one. Seeing it brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly.
Luke glanced at me from across the room, his expression unreadable as he held Josh’s baby. He was so good at this- steady and calm in the face of chaos. It was one of the reasons I loved him so much.
“She’s going to be okay,” he said quietly, echoing the words I’d just said to Josh. This time, I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself.
I nodded, even though my throat felt tight. “She has to be,” I replied.
The room was quiet for a long time; the only sounds were the soft beeping of the machines and the occasional coo from the baby in Luke’s arms. I sat down in the chair on the other side of Laura’s bed, reaching out to take her other hand. It was cold,
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and I rubbed my thumb over her skin, willing her to wake up.
“Come on, Laura,” I whispered. “We need you. He needs you. Your baby needs you.”
But there was no response, just the steady rise and fall of her chest as the ventilator did its job. I closed my eyes, sending up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening. Please, let her come back to us.
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