Midnight Sanctuary (Bugrov Bratva #2)(77)

Straight to business today, it seems. He conducts the exam in silence, both nurses hovering over him like sentinels. I keep waiting for him to tell us something good, clinging to the hope that something has changed overnight.

Please. Please. Please.

Finally, when I can’t take it anymore, I just ask the question outright. “Do you have good news for us?”

Dr. Grigory looks down at his clipboard and I know instinctively that’s a bad sign. If it were good news, he’d have just told it to us straight.

The doctor clears his throat. “I’m sorry, Alyssa. One baby’s vitals have dropped considerably. I doubt it will get any better without intervention. I’m afraid it’s time for the two of you to make a decision.”

I glance at Uri. His arms are crossed tight across his chest, his face stormy and brooding. “And our options are to operate now and deliver both babies or wait it out and hope?”

Dr. Grigory nods. “My medical recommendation? We go in now and deliver those babies by Cesarean. You’re close enough to thirty weeks that the weaker baby has a chance of survival. And the risk to you will be lower as well.”

“Okay,” Uri decides without so much as glancing my way. “Then let’s do it.”

“Wait!”

Both Uri and the doctor turn to me sharply. Dr. Grigory puts down his clipboard and gets to his feet. “Alyssa, you’re going to have to be on constant bed rest if you continue with this pregnancy. The slightest issue could cause premature labor or fetal distress.”

“But if I do, then the weaker baby will have the chance to grow a little more, get stronger. Right?”

Dr. Grigory groans, pained. “Er, well, yes, theoretically speaking—”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Alyssa—”

“Give me a number. Put a number on it and then I’ll decide for good.”

He twists back and forth like he’d rather sacrifice a finger than pick a number. “Alyssa—” he tries again.

“Please,” I say. “In your expert opinion, just give me an educated guess.”

He sighs, his shoulders drooping forward and that damned clipboard dangling loosely between his fingertips. “Thirty percent. Forty tops.”

I nod. “Then I think I should wait. I can do it. I can keep these babies safe until it’s time for them to be born.”

“Ty, dolzhno byt', shutish' nado mnoy!” My head swivels towards Uri, who’s glaring down at me with shock and outrage. “Are you fucking serious?”

Dr. Grigory clears his throat and retreats toward the exit, mumbling, “We’ll give the two of you a moment.” Then he and his nurses scurry out of the room like mice clearing a burning building.

I shove myself upright in bed. “If I let them deliver these babies now, there’s a sixty to seventy percent chance that we’ll lose one!”

“And if we don’t let them deliver those babies now, we’re running the risk of losing one baby anyway and losing you.”

I square my jaw. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“No.”

My eyes go wide. “No?”

“I’m saying no,” Uri growls. “As the father of those babies—”

“Screw you! You may be the father, but I’m the mother and I’m the one carrying them. My body, my decision!”

Uri’s hands are clenched into fists. His eyes are flared with danger—and once upon a time, I would’ve done anything he told me to do if he said it while he looked like that.

But things have changed. I’m not the scared little girl dangling on the fence anymore. The game has gone up a level, the stakes have raised, and somewhere along the way, Uri showed me how to be stronger. How to stand my ground.

He has only himself to blame for my defiance now. Terrifying though he may be, my fear of losing a child is greater.

“Don’t do this,” he rasps as he grabs my hand. “Don’t do this. We’ll still have one baby. And we can make more if that’s what you want. I don’t want to risk your life in the process.”

It’s the most earnest request he’s ever made. And if I hadn’t lived through losing a sister, he might have stood a chance of swaying me. But as it stands, I know I can’t make any other decision.

“This is my choice, Uri. I don’t need your blessing or your permission; I just need your support.”

His eyes go cold. He drops my hand. The next thing I know, he’s storming out of the room. And no matter how desperately I call after him, he doesn’t stay.

He doesn’t even spare me a glance before the door slams shut.





48





URI





The whole point is to storm out to show Alyssa how I feel about her choice. But I only get as far as the hallway right outside her door. Going farther than that feels like ripping out my own heart. So I pace up and down, unable to justify actually leaving the hospital. Even moving out of sight of her room is impossible.

The truth is, no matter how pissed off I am with her, no matter how unreasonable I think she’s being, I can’t bring myself to leave her. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through. The most I can do is prowl the corridors like a caged beast and shoot furious glances at her door when I pass.