From Teen To Mom

Chapter 21

                          Greyson POV

My heart races as I catch sight of her standing on my doorstep. It's been years since she left, unexpectedly ending our relationship and wrecking my world. I step out of the car, my legs feeling weak beneath me, and approach her slowly, unable to find the right words to express the multitude of emotions mixing inside me.

Her voice trembles as she begins to speak, apologizing for showing up out of the blue after all this time. I notice a faint British accent in her voice that she didn't have before, a reminder of the time she spent away. My mind races, trying to process her sudden appearance and the flood of memories that threaten to overwhelm me.

She looks at me, concern engraved on her face, and asks if I'm okay. I struggle to form a coherent response, my mind still grappling with the shock of seeing her here, in front of me. "Um... Yeah... Just surprised to see you here," I manage to stutter, my words stumbling out awkwardly. She looks breathtakingly beautiful in her short white dress, but I try to shake off the way my heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

I remind myself of my current reality - I have a girlfriend, Mercedes, who is carrying our child. I can't let myself be swept away by the memories and emotions that Aspen's presence brings. I have obligations now, a future that I've built with someone else. But the ache in my chest is definite, a reminder of the love I once felt for this girl. The love I might always feel for her.

She asks if she can come in, and I reluctantly agree, opening the front door and leading her into the living room. As she takes in the sight of the baby items scattered around, a mix of shock and regret flashes across her face. "You have a baby?" she asks, her voice filled with disbelief. I nod, the weight of impending fatherhood settling heavily on my shoulders.

"A son. He's due in a few weeks, but Mercedes was in a car accident recently, so we're hoping he won't be born prematurely. I need to get back to the hospital soon," I explain, my voice tinged with worry.

Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widening in genuine concern. She looks even more vulnerable like the Bambi I used to know. "Greyson, I'm so sorry, I had no idea. I wouldn't have come here if I had known," she says, her voice shaking.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask her why she came here after all this time. Her eyes drop to the floor, filled with shame. "I wanted to win you back, to see if there was any chance for us... but I can see now that it's too late," she confesses, her voice heavy with regret.

The conflicting emotions inside me threaten to burst forth. I remind myself that Aspen left for Europe, knowing I couldn't wait forever. "I know," I say, trying to keep my tone steady. "I have a family now, and I need to get back to the hospital to check on them. I'm sorry Aspen but that part of our life is over and has been for a long time."

She nods, understanding, and slowly walks back to her car. As I watch her drive away, a whirlwind of emotions consumes me. I try to push aside the lingering thoughts of what could have been, reminding myself that my life is good now. I'm on the verge of graduating and about to welcome my child into the world with the woman I love.

I've made progress in cutting back on my bad habits, and my priority is on building a stable future. Aspen's spontaneous visit has stirred up old wounds, but I won't let it derail the life I've worked so hard to build. I hope that this is the last time I'll ever see her, and I cling to the belief that I have everything I need right now.

I quickly take a refreshing shower, trying to clear my mind of the encounter with my ex-girlfriend. As I dry off, I grab Mercedes' pink backpack and fill it with all the essentials - comfortable clothes, socks, underwear, and a toothbrush. I also grab her favorite Lion King blanket. With the weight of worry hanging over me, I head out the door and make my way back to the hospital.

During the drive, I forcefully push Aspen to the back of my mind, refusing to let her presence linger. I park the car and hastily grab the backpack and blanket, hurrying into the building. I rush to the elevator, eager to reach Mercedes' room. However, as the elevator doors open, I'm greeted by a sight that sends a shiver down my spine.

Instead of finding her in the room, I see her mom and Brandon in the waiting room, their faces pale and filled with worry. Panic quickly surges through me as I approach them. "What's wrong? Are they okay?" I ask, my voice trembling with fear.

Kayla looks at me, her eyes tired and filled with tears. "Mercedes went into premature labor, and they couldn't stop it. She's undergoing an emergency c-section right now because the baby is in a breech position."

"Breech?" I repeat, my mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "But she was fine just an hour ago... I should have never left her side."

"It means the baby was trying to come out feet first," she explains, her voice filled with worry. "I'm sure they'll both be fine," she adds, attempting to reassure me, but I can see the concern carved in her eyes.

A nurse in light pink scrubs approaches us, diverting our attention. "Are you the father?" she asks, and I nod in response. "Okay, Mercedes is about to undergo a c-section. She panicked and had to be put under for the surgery, so she was unconscious. However, you can still be there for her if you want to."

"Of course," I reply without hesitation, following the nurse down the hallway as quickly as I can. We stop outside the room, and she hands me a set of scrubs, rubber gloves, and a plastic hat to cover my hair. "You must wear this to go inside," she instructs, putting on the same gear over her scrubs.

I nod, my hands shaking slightly as I quickly put on the protective clothing, making sure everything is secure. Please, let them both be okay, I silently pray. The nurse opens the door, and I step inside, my heart pounding in my chest.

My eyes immediately lock onto Mercedes, lying on a cold metal table, surrounded by a team of doctors. They've created a small plastic barrier, shielding her sleeping face from the surgical procedure. I move closer to her, unable to witness the incision, and instead, I gently stroke her hair, offering what little comfort I can. I just couldn't tell if that comfort was meant to be for me or her.

Time seems to crawl as I anxiously wait, putting all my focus into staring at Mercedes's face, sleeping peacefully as the doctors cut through her. Finally, I look up to see the doctor holding a tiny baby, barely larger than their hands. My son. Tears well up in my eyes as I take in the fragile form of my child. But why isn't he crying? Shouldn't babies cry when they're born?

He hands Bentley to the nurse, who instantly starts working on him. Panic grips me as I notice his pale and lifeless body, the absence of any sound. The fear of the unknown consumes me, and I pray with all my might that my precious son will be alright. I have never considered the possibility of losing a child and now, all I wanted to do is give my life for him.

"Will he be okay?" I choke out, my voice filled with tears as I tightly grasp Mercedes' unconscious hand. Grateful that she is unaware of my spiraling fear and our son's limp body.

The doctor seems to ignore my question, focused on finishing the stitches to close Mercedes' incision. Meanwhile, the nurse vigorously rubs my son's fragile body, desperately attempting to provoke any response. Holding my breath, I wait anxiously, my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, the sound I've been craving fills the room - his cry. Relief floods over me, momentarily washing away the fear.

"We need to transfer him to the NICU immediately," the nurse urgently declares, placing him in a hospital bassinet and swiftly wheeling him out of the room before I can catch a proper glimpse of him. My heart lurches as the separation begins.

Suddenly, the alarms and monitors connected to Mercedes erupt into a symphony of urgent beeping. The doctor's voice blends with the noise, relaying a series of complex medical terms that I struggle to comprehend or process. My mind fixates solely on the woman I love, the mother of my child. Her face turns an alarming shade of pale, mirroring the sterile sheets beneath her. The blood drains from my face, realizing the dangerous reality of the situation as her lips began to turn a pale shade of blue.

Lost in my panic, I must have detached from my surroundings, before I can fully grasp the gravity of the crisis, a nurse forcefully guides me out of the room, shutting the door in my face. The harsh separation from Mercedes intensifies my fear, leaving me feeling helpless and isolated.