One More Night: a Adam Levine story

Chapter Seven

sorry it's so short.

**

I woke up at past six the next morning. I still lay in bed for a few minutes, going over the events of the previous few days. I thought things would turn around the night I walked home from my boxing match, as a winner. But I was wrong. Things couldn't have been worse. I had a wife who was so hurt by my actions that she wouldn't come home to me and a little girl with a sick heart. I felt like a hopeless husband and a pathetic father. In some parallel world, I would call my mother and ask her for advice. She seemed like that kind of woman who would have the right words to say. Or so I'd come to think, based on the stories Aunt Denise used to tell me as a child. She'd wanted to preserve my mother's memory. I thought about calling my dad, but decided against it. Instead I showered and dressed very quickly. I arrived at the hospital, a bit hungry, at 7am. Callie's operation was only scheduled for 9am, but I liked being early. The hospital went about its business; nurses and doctors alike scurried past my figure in the waiting room. It was only an hour later that I saw Michaela and Nikki walk in. Nikki had a pained expression in her eyes when she greeted me (very stiffly) and Michaela had dark circles under her eyes, telling me that she didn't sleep well. I wanted to kiss her and hold her hand and tell her our baby would be fine.

'Have you seen Callie yet?' She asked me.

I shook my head as I stood up, 'I was waiting for you.'

Michaela frowned a little bit and watched me warily.

'Come here,' I said softly as I reached out my arm. She gave her sister a worrying look –Nikki watched us painfully- and placed her soft hand into my rough and worn from boxing one. I pulled Michaela into me and she gently placed her head against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed my cheek against her hair. I knew this wasn't her forgiving me. Our baby was sick, and this was an act of mom and dad comforting each other. But I didn't mind. I would have done just about anything to make Michaela feel better. Even if that meant hurting myself in the process.

Someone cleared their throat. It was a nurse in pink scrubs, the same one from the previous day. She gave us both a warm smile. 'Callie is almost ready to go to surgery, you can come see her off Mr and Mrs Levine.'

I noticed this time Michaela didn't care that she was addressed as my wife. I guided Michaela with my hand on the small of her back. Callie started kicking her feet in excitement when she saw us. I broke out into the biggest smile ever when I saw her beautiful face light up.

'Hey, baby girl.' I cooed. 'Daddy's fighter' I held her tiny hand in mine. Her skin was just as soft as her mother's. Michaela's quietness bothered me and I turned my head to find silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

'Hey, hey.' I said as I took her hands in mine. 'Did you see how happy she got when she saw us?'

Michaela didn't answer me, instead she looked at Callie –she was still kicking her feet and gurgling.

'She's got victory running through her blood, Michaela. She's strong.' I tried to soothe her.

Michaela pulled her hands out of mine and gripped the sides of her crib. Callie cooed and reached her hand out for her mom. I felt myself getting choked up at the sight of my two beautiful girls, both hurt, but in different ways. I felt so helpless.

Michaela made a point to sit in the opposite chair from mine in the waiting room. Her eyes were low and she kept chewing on her bottom lip. Eventually I couldn't stand the tension in the waiting room so I took a walk just outside the hospital grounds. I checked my phone and found I had several texts from Carter. I hadn't told any of the gym crew about what was happening with Callie. Not even my own dad. I sighed and ran a hand over my hair. I knew I had to tell my dad eventually. But I knew that even though it was his granddaughter on the operating table, he'd be more concerned about my boxing career. I stopped walking abruptly and painfully thought that this must be how Michaela sees me –obsessed with my career. But that would have to change. I missed both of my girls so much that it physically hurt. How long could I go on without having them under my roof, under my protection?

I suddenly came to the realisation that I needed them more than they needed me. I had so many changes to make and so much standing in the way of making those changes.