True Love

Marco paced the pristine white linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. He held his hands behind his back, his nails digging little crescent-shaped grooves into his palms. He tried to breathe—he kept telling himself to breathe—but he struggled to as images of what was happening beyond those double-doors invaded his mind.

“Marco!” a woman shouted his name. “Marco! We’re here!”

He turned to see a woman in a yellow sundress and a man in a wheelchair rushing in his direction. He stopped pacing and waved meekly at them but could not muster so much as a smile.

“What’s going on?” the woman asked as she and the man’s wheelchair came to a stop in front of Marco.

Marco shook his head, barely holding the tears back.

“Last night, Isa and I were in bed…we thought her water broke, but…there was blood, so much blood…” he said, his voice scarcely above a husky whisper. “We brought her in. The doctors said something about underlying coagulation problems and premature birth…they don’t know if…”

Marco felt the dam break. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He mentally cursed himself for being so weak. He had to be strong, for Isa, for their child.

The woman put her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be all right,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “Isn’t that right, Roberto?”

The man in the wheelchair nodded.

“¡Claro que sí!” Roberto replied. “You just have to have faith.”

“I don’t know, Charlotte,” Marco replied, reaching up to wipe away the tears. “The doctors…”

“Don’t you worry about the doctors.” Charlotte squeezed Marco’s shoulder. “You let Roberto and me worry about the doctors for now. How long have you been here? Eight hours?”

“Ten.”

“Have you had anything to eat or drink except this disgusting hospital coffee?” Charlotte motioned toward the coffee machine set up in the far corner of the waiting room.

Marco shook his head.

“Go home then, amigo,” Roberto said. “¡Comas! ¡Descansas! Leave this mess to us for now.”

Marco glanced back at the double-doors.

“But Isa…”

“She’ll be fine,” Charlotte said, though something in her voice did not sound so sure.

Marco sighed.

“If you’re sure…”

***

Marco walked into the three-bedroom house with the feeling that it was all too empty without Isa. They had bought the house specifically for their expanding family at the beginning of Isa’s pregnancy, almost as soon as they had learned that she was pregnant, but they had been saving up for one for years. Marco could remember the day that they had set up the savings account specifically for that goal, the day that Isa had become an RN at the very hospital where she lay bleeding to death now…

No, he told himself. They’re taking good care of her. They will make sure that she pulls through, both her and the baby.

Marco trudged through the foyer and into the living room. Everything was just as they had left it before they had gone to bed the night before: a bit messy but organized in its own chaotic way. He hadn’t married Isa for her housekeeping skills, and Isa—who knew that Marco got enough of cleaning at his job as a janitor at the local community college—had not married him for his, either. So, most of the time, their place was in disarray. It was something that they vowed to change once the baby came. Marco hoped that they would get the chance to keep that promise.

On the coffee table, he spotted the photo album they had been flipping through after dinner. His heart ached.

He plopped down on the couch and opened the album to the first page, a picture of him making the game-winning goal at the first soccer match of his senior year in high school. It was the game where they had first met. He had just been the forward who had gotten lucky on one kick, and Isa had been the star journalist for the school newspaper. He had been immediately smitten. It took many flowers and hours in the “friend zone” to get Isa to come around, but by the time senior prom arrived, they were the school’s “it” couple.

Marco turned the page. A picture of them as prom king and queen smiled back at him. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He forced them back. This was no time to get emotional, no matter how beautiful Isa looked in her turquoise low-cut gown. He had always wanted to call it blue, but she had insisted that it was turquoise. He cursed himself. When she didn’t correct him the night before, he should have known that something was wrong.

Page after page, Marco was confronted with the timeline of their life together. Photos from Isa’s college graduation—Marco had taken up his current position at the community college to put her through that, and he did not regret it—including the one where he proposed to her. Thank God she said yes. A pressed rose from their first anniversary, during which they had a picnic at a local pond and he surprised her with an assorted bouquet. The number Marco wore during his first marathon as Isa cheered him from the sidelines. Little mementoes, sure, but they meant the world to Marco.

Marco paused on the page with the ultrasound of their baby. The baby that was premature. The baby that was currently in danger of dying. The ultrasound looked perfectly normal. Beautiful, in fact. The technician told them nothing wrong with their child then. Could this have somehow been prevented? The doctors had said something about an underlying coagulation problem with Isa. Could her doctors have detected this and prevented it?

Marco slammed the album shut and closed his eyes tightly, trying to prevent the surge of tears from flowing down his face.

“Damn it!” he yelled. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!”

***

When Marco returned to the hospital, Charlotte and Roberto were waiting for him. They were beaming.

“What?” he asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Marco Garcia?” a nurse asked, walking up to him.

“Yes?”

“We have good news about your wife and child.”

Marco’s eyebrows and heart raised, but he tried to not get his hopes up.

“What is it?”

“Your wife has been stabilized and is out of critical condition,” the nurse replied.

Marco swallowed against the hard knot in his throat.

“And my child?”

“She’s in an incubator but seems stable.”

“She?”

“Yes, Mr. Garcia. Congratulations, you are the father of a beautiful baby girl.” The nurse smiled. “Would you like to go see them?”

“Yes, of course!” Marco shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the sudden turn. “Who…who should I see first?” 

“I’ll take you to your wife first. She’s been asking for you.” 

Marco impatiently followed the nurse down the twisting hallways until they reached Isa’s room. When they arrived, Marco was relieved by what he saw: Isa, sparkling brown eyes wide open, alive. Her normally brown skin was slightly pale and glistened with sweat, and her dark hair tangled in the back—that would be a pain to brush later—but to Marco, she never looked more beautiful. 

“Isa!” 

Marco all but ran over to her side and embraced her.

“Careful, Marco, careful,” Isa said weakly. 

“Sorry, Isa, sorry.” Marco pulled away slightly but did not release her. “I’m just…I just can’t believe that you’re alive!”

Isa smiled.

“Me either, sweetheart.” She reached up and brushed a stray hair out of Marco’s face. “Have you seen our little girl yet?” She chuckled. “I can’t believe it. We have a daughter.”

Marco shook his head. “Not yet. I’m going to go see her after I’m done with you.” He kissed Isa on the forehead. “If I’m ever done with you.”

Isa laughed. It sounded like bells.

“Marco, I want to name her Angelina,” she said. “Is that OK with you?”

“Angelina…” Marco smiled. “Our little Angel. I love it.”

Isa wrapped her hand around Marco’s.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Author's Note: This story was for Veva Jacques's Summer Romance Challenge, the link to which can be found below.