SWEET DREAMS, FRAGILE HEARTS
Chapter 54—Unwavering Support

Troy blinked awake, momentarily confused about why his alarm hadn't gone off. As his mind cleared, he remembered that it was Sunday, and he didn't have to work that day. Memories flooded his mind from the hospital ball the night before, and he lifted his head to look at Gabriella. She'd fallen asleep nude, resting in his lap after their lovemaking, and he'd carried her to bed without redressing her. She was still asleep, lying on her left side, so he carefully lifted the blanket to check her injuries from Carl's collision with her the night before. He winced when he saw the large bruise on her right hip from the impact of her fall. Up a little higher was a round bruise on the side of her abdomen. Troy touched it gently, trying to reassure himself that the impact hadn't been hard enough to harm the baby. As Gabriella had pointed out the night before, the baby was surrounded by protective amniotic fluid in her womb. Still, he would feel better about the baby's health, and Gabriella's, once they got the all-clear from Dr. Grant at their appointment the next day.

Under his watchful gaze, Gabriella began to stir, and when she rolled onto her back and her eyes peeked open, Troy smiled at her.

"Good morning, lover," he murmured.

"Mm, good morning." She blinked a few times, and as she became more aware of her surroundings, her lips twitched. "Is there a particular reason why you're lying there staring at my naked body?"

He dropped the cover he'd forgotten he was holding up and grinned. "There's a beautiful naked woman in my bed. Do I need a reason to stare?"

She smiled and shook her head at his predictably charming response. She started to roll onto her right side and sucked in a breath through her teeth.

"Ow," she frowned.

"That bruise on your hip is pretty nasty," he commented. "How do you feel?"

"A little sore," she answered. "And… I don't know, kind of… weird. It's hard to explain."

"Weird in a bad way?"

"Weird in an 'I don't know why' way. What I do know is that I need to go to the bathroom."

She leveraged herself up, wincing as she stood on her twisted ankle.

"Need help?" he offered.

She waved him off and walked, almost normally, to the bathroom. Troy relaxed back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling. When she came out of the bathroom, she opened a dresser drawer and pulled one of Troy's t-shirts over her head. Then she returned to her side of the bed and carefully lowered herself beside him.

"I think you're more than a little sore," he commented.

Her lips tightened into a frown. "Don't start diagnosing me again."

"Okay, okay," he murmured, scooting closer so he could pull her into his arms. She snuggled into his body, twining her legs with his.

She pressed the side of her abdomen, and Troy lifted his head.

"Is the baby moving?"

"Not right now," she answered.

"Pain?" he couldn't resist asking.

"Just a bit of discomfort, like a pinch." She released a slow breath. "It's gone now."

She relaxed back into his arms, and he cleared his throat. "I'm not trying to diagnose you, but please tell me if that happens again, okay?"

Gabriella looked up at him and smiled. "I will, I promise."

"Good girl." He kissed the top of her head. "What do you want to do today? Maybe we could start putting up Christmas decorations."

She nodded. "That'd be good, but first…" Her eyes lifted again. "Troy, could we go to the chapel service at Stanford? I know it's last-minute, but it's been awhile since we've been there and I… I'd like to light a candle for my grandmother."

He smiled warmly. "Sure, sweetie. Maybe we can meet up with Mark and Kelly for lunch on the way back."

"That'd be nice." She bit her lip. "I wonder how Kelly's feeling this morning."

Troy glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. "We're going to have to get moving to make it to Stanford on time. Why don't you go take a shower, and I'll call Mark to see if they're free."

"Thank you," she smiled. She lifted her chin in invitation, and he kissed her before she scooted to the side of the bed and pushed to her feet.

He rolled onto his back and watched her as she gathered clothing and undergarments on her way to the shower. Everything's fine, he told himself. Quit worrying. Even as he thought it, though, he knew it was never going to happen.

...~«ώ»~...

When they got home that afternoon, Troy began pulling out boxes of Christmas decorations while Gabriella napped. She didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects from her fall, other than soreness. That was more than could be said of Kelly, who was sporting a black eye and a "killer headache," according to Mark. He had declined Troy's invitation for lunch, telling his friend that he wanted Kelly to stay home and rest. Troy smiled at the memory. Mark, who had often teased Troy about the way he doted on Gabriella, was being equally protective of his own wife.

Troy located the box that contained the outdoor Christmas lights and carried it out to the porch. Some of their neighbors went with tacky, over-the-top decorations for the holidays, but Troy preferred the less-is-more approach, with simple strands of lights along the roofline. Gabriella would complete the decor with a wreath on the front door and fresh pine boughs dotted with red bows along the porch railing.

He was up on the ladder, nearly finished attaching the first strands of lights to the roof, when he heard the front door open and close. A moment later, Gabriella peered up at him from the top of the porch steps.

"Looking good up there," she called.

"Are you talking about the lights, or me?" he teased.

She laughed. "I was talking about the lights, but I'm certainly not complaining about the hunk on the ladder either!"

He released one hand to flex his arm muscles, and she fanned herself playfully.

"How was your nap?"

"It would've been better if you'd been there with me."

"If I'd been there, there wouldn't have been much resting going on."

She giggled as he grinned down at her. "Where did you put the pine boughs?"

"They're still in the trunk of the car." He started down the ladder. "Here, let me get them for you. You shouldn't be lifting that box."

"I can carry them out a few at a time," she argued. "My briefcase is heavier than they are!"

"Fine, I admit it," he answered as he hopped to the ground. "I really just came down so I could do this." He slid his arm around her waist and gave her a sweet kiss.

"Charmer," she teased when he released her.

"Guilty as charged. You bring it out of me, babe."

He disappeared into the garage and reappeared a moment later with the box of boughs. He carried it to the porch and opened it for her before returning to the ladder. They each worked on their own areas for several minutes, and when Troy climbed down the ladder again to move to the next section of the roof, he stepped back to admire the first few boughs Gabriella had draped across the porch. He smiled when he heard her humming "Deck the Halls" to herself.

"I've just decided something," he suddenly announced.

Gabriella raised her head to look at him curiously. "What's that?"

"You are, hands down, the cutest pregnant woman on the planet," he declared.

She laughed. "Somehow I don't think that's an objective opinion, since I'm pregnant with your child."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But it doesn't make it any less true."

She tilted her head. "Want to know what I think? I think that it's only a few weeks until Christmas and you're trying to butter me up."

Troy stepped back in feigned shock. "Would I do something like that?" She held his gaze, and finally he caved in and laughed. "Okay, I would totally do something like that. But I assure you, my love, that in this case, my intentions are completely honorable. I stand by my statement."

"In that case, thank you, honey. I'm flattered." She went back to work, and as he started up the ladder again, he couldn't resist teasing, "But now that you mention it, there might be a new surfboard I've had my eye on…" He dodged the bow she threw at him, winked, and ascended the ladder.

She'd come down the porch steps to check that the boughs she'd hung were draped evenly when there was a dull thud in the dirt in front and to the right of where she was standing. Troy swore above her. She lifted her hand to shade her eyes and looked up at him.

"What's wrong?"

"I dropped the pliers," he answered.

"Stay there. I'll toss them up to you."

"I think they fell behind that bush." He pointed, and she looked over.

The bush was dense and scraggly, and she bent and twisted, trying to peer through the thick branches. Troy started down the ladder to help her search, but a moment later she called out, "I see them." She moved closer, reaching for them, and suddenly let out a choked cry. She dropped to her knees, clutching her side, and Troy rushed to her.

"What happened?" he asked anxiously.

"I… I don't know… Just a sudden… sharp pain… in my side."

"Outside or inside? Could it have been a branch from the bush?"

"Inside." Her voice caught in her throat, and he realized that she was fighting back tears.

"Okay, let me help you up and out of the bushes." He slid his hands under her arms and lifted her, wincing at the cry of pain that she choked on. Once he'd moved her away from the landscaping, he lowered her to the grass and knelt beside her.

"Troy, it hurts," she told him weakly. Her fingers dug into the right side of her abdomen, just over the bruise that she'd gotten the night before. The potential injuries that Troy had forced out of his mind earlier came rushing back. She looked up at him tearfully. "Troy, what if… the baby…?"

"Shh," he soothed, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Don't jump to any conclusions. I'm going to go get my medical bag, all right?"

She nodded, and he dashed into the house. When he returned and lifted her arm to take her blood pressure, she was shaking, fearing the worst. Her heart was racing, and he knew he had to keep her calm. He cupped her face in his hands.

"Baby, listen to me," he said, willing his voice to remain calm and soothing. "Calm down, okay? Take a deep breath and let it out slowly for me." She did, and he coached her through a few more breaths. "I think we need to go to the hospital, just to be safe."

Gabriella nodded her agreement, and he lifted her, helped her to the car and buckled her in.

"My purse," she told him.

"I'll get it," he responded. "Sit tight."

When he locked the house and returned with her purse, she was leaning forward, still clutching her side. He squeezed her hand, brushed a tear off her cheek, and put the car into gear.

...~«ώ»~...

Troy held Gabriella's hand as Dr. Grant lifted her shirt and squirted jelly on her abdomen. The ultrasound machine whirred to life, and Dr. Grant pressed the wand into Gabriella's belly, just above her navel. Unlike the scheduled ultrasounds she performed in her office, this time Dr. Grant kept the screen turned away from the couple. She did a quick scan of the uterus and then slid the wand down to Gabriella's side. She had a suspicion about what was causing the problem, and she hoped she was wrong. But it took only a moment for her to find the source of the pain. She examined the area thoroughly, tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and then set down the wand and wiped the jelly off of Gabriella's abdomen. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head to face the anxious young couple.

"First of all, the baby is fine," she began. "The placenta is intact, the heartbeat is normal, and there are no signs of preterm labor."

"Thank God," Troy breathed. A tear slid down Gabriella's cheek, and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. "So what's the problem?"

"The fibroid we talked about last month. It's larger, and it has twisted on its stalk and cut off its blood supply."

"This is from the fall last night, isn't it?" Troy asked. "I knew I should've insisted that she get checked out."

"If it was from her fall, she would've experienced immediate severe pain," Dr. Grant assured him. "Don't blame yourself. No one knows exactly what causes fibroids to twist like this. It can be body movements, or simply the direction in which it grows."

"I don't understand," Gabriella spoke up. "You said not to worry. You said it wouldn't cause any problems."

"And that's true more than 95% of the time. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen this happen in all my years of experience."

Gabriella's bottom lip quivered. "You left this… this ticking time bomb inside me, and now…" She covered her face with her hands and wept.

Troy slid his arm around her and lowered his face close to hers, whispering words of reassurance. Dr. Grant waited, giving them time to absorb the news. Finally, Troy's eyes lifted to meet hers.

"What happens now?" he asked soberly.

"We're out of options. The fibroid has to come out before the dying tissue spreads infection into the abdominal cavity. I'm going to admit her tonight so that we can manage her pain and start her on antibiotics. We'll plan for laparoscopic surgery in the morning."

"Surgery?" Gabriella protested. "What about my classes? We have final exams next week!"

Troy shook his head. "Your health comes first. If the infection spreads, it'll get to the baby through the umbilical cord. We can't let that happen."

"It's not going to happen," Dr. Grant added. "I know it's frightening, Gabriella, but we're going to fix it. I promise you that the baby is not in any danger right now. Just stay focused on that." She laid her hand on her patient's leg. "I'll write up your orders and they'll move you up to the surgical unit soon. Get a good night's sleep. You too, Troy. I'll see you in the morning."

With a reassuring smile, she pulled aside the curtain and walked to the nurses' station to write her report. Despite her parting words, she doubted that any of them would sleep well that night.

...~«ώ»~...

The next morning, Troy sat beside Gabriella's hospital bed, wrestling with his thoughts as he watched her sleep. She'd been through so much during her pregnancy. It seemed cruel and unfair that, just when everything seemed to be going well, something like this would happen. Every time his thoughts turned dark, though, he had to remind himself that the baby was healthy, and Gabriella would recover after the troublesome fibroid was removed. There were other couples on the surgical floor that were dealing with far worse situations—miscarriages, ectopic pregnancies, fetuses with devastating health problems that could end their lives before they even began.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then Dr. Grant walked into the room. Troy squeezed Gabriella's hand to wake her, and her eyes blinked open.

"Good morning," Dr. Grant began. "How are you feeling?"

"Better with the pain medicine," Gabriella answered.

"I'm glad to hear that. We'll be ready for you in surgery in about an hour, but I wanted to talk to you about the procedure first." She moved to sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you remember the allergic reaction you had after your last surgery, when I removed your fibroids?"

Gabriella nodded. "You said you couldn't determine which drug I'm allergic to." Her eyes widened. "What if that happens again this time?"

"There's no way to predict whether it will or won't," Dr. Grant answered. "It's a risk we need to consider. Worst case scenario, your immune system could attack your organs, or maybe even the baby."

And the results could be devastating, Troy's mind provided the unspoken words. He squeezed Gabriella's hand.

"How are you going to do surgery if you can't give her anesthetic?" he asked.

"I talked to the anesthesiologist a little while ago, and we think that it would be considerably less risky to use sedation rather than general anesthesia."

"What's the difference?" Gabriella asked.

"Sedation is used for minor procedures like arthroscopic surgeries, endoscopies, and removal of wisdom teeth. You won't be fully unconscious like you would be under anesthesia, but that will allow you to recover more quickly."

"That sounds reasonable," Gabriella nodded.

"Hold on," Troy interrupted. "This isn't exactly a 'minor' procedure. Even if you administer local anesthetic at the incision site, once you start cutting into internal tissues, there's a chance that she'll be awake enough to feel it."

"I know," Dr. Grant agreed. "I considered using an epidural, but the risk of an allergic reaction still exists, even with a smaller dose than general anesthesia. I really think this is our best option."

Gabriella frowned. "Wait, does that mean I won't be able to have an epidural when I'm in labor?"

Dr. Grant shook her head. "That's a different situation. If there is any allergic reaction whatsoever, we can take the baby via emergency Cesarean section. Right now, though, we're trying to keep the pregnancy intact. Taking the baby now, more than two months premature, would be our last resort. I don't want to take that risk."

"Neither do I," Troy concurred. "But what are you going to do to keep her comfortable during the procedure?"

"We'll give her sedatives and pain meds through her IV. The anesthesiologist will be there to monitor both her vitals and the baby's. Once she's relaxed, I'll inject local anesthetic into her side and remove the fibroid as quickly as I can."

"Even with a local anesthetic, she could wake up enough to feel what you're doing."

"Which leads me to my next recommendation. Troy, I want you to consider being in the operating room with her." She put up her hand to halt his protest. "Not in an official capacity. You can go in and sit next to her and keep her calm. Talk her through the procedure. Hold her hand."

Gabriella looked at him hopefully. "Please, Troy."

"Honey, I'm not sure you understand everything that's involved. This could be a really uncomfortable procedure for you."

"All the more reason to have you there beside me."

Troy considered that. It would be difficult for him to see her hurting, but if it would make things easier for Gabriella, he couldn't refuse her. He rubbed his palms on the legs of his jeans.

"Okay," he answered resolutely. "If Gabriella okay with it, then I'm in. Let's get this done."

...~«ώ»~...

Troy took his time at the scrub sink, partly to wash away germs and partly to prepare himself for what lay ahead. He'd scrubbed in for numerous surgeries, but this one made him far more nervous than he'd ever been while performing a knee replacement or setting a broken bone. The scrub nurse cleared her throat behind him, and he shut off the water and dried his hands. She helped him into his surgical scrubs and then added his gloves and mask.

"Thanks," he muttered.

He pushed open the door to the operating room and was instantly struck by how strange it was to be there not as a doctor, but as a husband. Gabriella was already there on the table, positioned on her left side. Her hair was gathered up under a surgical cap, and her hand rested protectively on her belly. Drawing a deep breath to fortify himself, he approached her. Her eyes were closed, but when he touched her hand, they slid open.

"Hey," he greeted softly as he sat down beside her.

"Hi," she whispered. Fear was written all over her features, and Troy's resolve threatened to falter.

"Don't worry," he told her. "It'll be okay."

Her eyes glistened. "I'm scared, Troy," she confessed.

He palmed her cheek. "I know, sweetheart. But I'm going to be here with you the whole time. I'm not going to leave you. We'll get through this together."

"But what if something happens to our baby? What if…"

"Gabriella," he interrupted gently. "No 'what ifs,' okay? One step at a time. The baby is healthy and strong, and it'll be all right. I need you to be all right too, so that's what we're focusing on right now."

She nodded silently, and a tear slid down her cheek. Troy used his gloved knuckle to wipe it away, and then bent to kiss her forehead through his mask. He knew that doing the procedure under sedation would be less stressful for the baby, but it would be more difficult for Gabriella. Maybe he should have insisted that they take their chances with general anesthesia. Even as the thought entered his mind, though, he dismissed it. It was too great a risk to take. He just wished there was another option. He let out a sigh. It was his job to keep her calm and still during surgery, and although he projected an air of confidence to her, inside he was trembling.

The door to the operating room opened again, and Dr. Grant came in with the anesthesiologist behind her. She quickly hooked up the fetal monitor while the older man prepped the machines to monitor Gabriella's vital signs. He explained how the sedation would work, and then, with a nod from Dr. Grant, he began to inject the medicine into Gabriella's IV. Troy stroked her cheek as he watched her face begin to relax. Finally her eyes fluttered shut, and he looked up at Dr. Grant. She was watching the fetal monitor, and not long after Gabriella's heart rate slowed, the baby's did as well. Troy knew that it was supposed to happen that way, but he still breathed a sigh of relief when the soft beeps from both monitors leveled off.

Dr. Grant looked up and saw him watching her. "The baby isn't showing any signs of distress, Troy. Everything's fine so far." She administered the local anesthetic into Gabriella's side and then watched the clock, allowing sufficient time for the anesthesia to work.

"If she starts to regain consciousness, she may not be able to articulate what she's feeling," Dr. Grant reminded Troy. "Just do your best to keep her calm."

He nodded, and she picked up her scalpel. She had to make three incisions, one to insert the camera so she could see the internal cavity and two for the tools she'd use to remove the fibroid. Once she inserted and positioned the camera, Troy glanced at the video screen and instantly wished he hadn't. The stalk of the fibroid was twisted, intertwined with Gabriella's ovary and fallopian tube.

"C-can you get it out without removing… I mean, is she going to lose her ovary?" he stammered.

"I don't think so," Dr. Grant answered briskly. She turned to the female resident who was assisting her and quietly began to explain the procedure as she went. Troy held Gabriella's hand and focused his attention on her face, watching for signs of movement.

"We need to drain the fluid from the fibroid before we start extricating it," Dr. Grant said, though Troy was only half listening. He heard the clink of surgical instruments on the tray, the surgeons' movements, the steady beeps of the monitors. He was surprised when he glanced down and saw Gabriella looking up at him. Her eyes were not quite focused, and she didn't say anything. She just stared.

"It's okay, baby," Troy murmured. "I'm right here. Everything's fine. Close your eyes and rest."

She didn't react or even acknowledge that she'd heard him, but after a few moments, her eyes closed. He released the breath he'd been holding and took her hand between both of his.

"Suction," Dr. Grant ordered. The machine filled the quiet room with loud, gurgling sounds. Gabriella reacted with a flinch, but her eyes remained shut.

"Clamp it… there," the doctor instructed her resident. "Okay, we're going to start removing it one section at a time. Keep the suction close so I don't nick the ovary."

The two women watched the monitor closely, working slowly and carefully through the small incisions. Suddenly the beeping of Gabriella's monitor quickened, and her eyes flew open. Fear, pain, and confusion radiated from her. Her lips moved as if she was trying to say something, but no sound came out. Troy didn't need words to understand. He could see the pain in her eyes.

"Shh, it's all right," he soothed. "It'll be over soon. Squeeze my hand."

Her fingers twitched against his palm. She tried again to speak, but only managed a low moan. Silent tears spilled from her eyes. It broke Troy's heart.

"Increase the sedative," Dr. Grant barked. "I need her to be still!"

Only then did Troy notice Gabriella's trembling, and he lowered his face directly in front of hers. "Gabriella, look at me. Relax. Don't fight it. I know it hurts, but it'll be over in a few minutes. Stay calm, sweetie."

Her lips kept moving, and he realized that she was repeating the same word again and again. Baby.

"The baby's fine," he told her. "I'm watching the fetal monitor, and it's doing just fine. You don't have to worry. Just close your eyes and go back to sleep. You're doing great, babe. I'm so proud of you."

Troy couldn't be sure whether it was his soothing words or the extra sedative from the anesthesiologist, but she finally stilled and closed her eyes. He carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks and then sat back in his chair, emotionally spent. Seeing Gabriella hurting and not being able to do anything to help made him feel completely impotent. Movement from the viewing gallery above caught his attention, and he looked up, surprised to see Mark sitting there anxiously. Mark pressed his fist to his chest in a sign of support and solidarity, and Troy nodded in acknowledgment. Somehow, having his best friend there comforted him.

He drew a fortifying breath and returned his attention to Gabriella. I can do this, he told himself. He had to. She needed him. Patients often didn't remember anything about their surgical experience once they came out of sedation. He hoped the medicine would erase Gabriella's memory of this frightening ordeal. He wanted that for her, because he knew that he would never, ever forget.

...~«ώ»~...

Gabriella came awake slowly, gaining her senses one at a time. She heard the soft beeps of machines around her. She felt the coolness of the air in the room. She frowned at the dryness of her throat. And as her mind began to emerge from the fogginess of sedation, she became aware of the dull ache in her right side. Unsure whether to continue waking or allow herself to slip back into unconsciousness, she opened her eyes to see where she was. She didn't recognize the room, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Troy was there. She reached out her hand and he looked up, his face lighting with a bright smile.

He leaned forward and squeezed her hand. "Hey, sleepyhead."

"Can I have some water?"

He stood and cupped the back of her head to help her lean forward and drink. After a few swallows, she released the straw and laid back.

"Thanks," she said softly. "Is the baby okay?"

"The baby's fine, and the fibroid is gone," he answered, taking her hand. "You were great in there, honey."

She pressed her other hand into her side.

"Are you in pain?"

"It's not too bad."

"I'm glad." He glanced at the wall clock. "Dr. Grant said she'd be in to check on you in about 45 minutes, so why don't you close your eyes and rest until then?"

She nodded and closed her eyes, keeping hold of his hand. His words felt familiar, as if he'd said them to her recently, but she didn't remember when. Had he said that to her before the anesthesiologist put her to sleep? She didn't think so. She remembered watching his eyes in the operating room. His hair had been tucked under a surgical cap, and most of his face covered by a surgical mask, so his blue eyes had looked vivid and bright. She also remembered his soothing voice and gentle touch. Her lips curved into a smile. He was always there when she needed him. With that comforting thought in mind, she drifted easily back to sleep.

...~«ώ»~...

"How are you doing?" Dr. Grant asked when she came in and saw that Gabriella was awake.

"Pretty good," Gabriella answered. "I'm still a little groggy."

"That's normal. How's your pain?"

"It's hurting more now than when I first woke up."

Dr. Grant nodded and scribbled a few notes. "I'll write an order for pain meds. Troy probably already filled you in, but we got the fibroid out with no problems. It was tangled up with your ovary and fallopian tube, but I'm pleased to report that they suffered no damage whatsoever." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Your husband watched me like a hawk in there."

Gabriella glanced at Troy, and he winked. "It was nice to have him there, even though it wasn't really necessary since I slept through the whole thing."

Dr. Grant tipped her head toward Troy, but he hastily changed the subject.

"She said she hasn't felt the baby move since she woke up."

"The sedation we gave to Gabriella also sedated the baby," Dr. Grant explained, looking over at the fetal monitor and then back to her patient. "Its heart rate is back to normal, but it's probably feeling just as groggy as you are. It could take up to twelve hours for it to resume normal movements. If you haven't felt anything by morning, then definitely give me a call."

It took a few moments for Gabriella to interpret the doctor's unspoken message. "Wait, you're sending me home? Really?"

Dr. Grant smiled. "Really. The baby is doing fine, and I think you'll sleep better in your own bed. And it doesn't hurt that you happen to live with a doctor."

"Good! I have so much work to catch up on with final exams coming up…"

"Not so fast." Dr. Grant looked at her sternly. "I've taken care of the immediate problem, the fibroid, but I still have some concerns. Your blood pressure, for one, plus the swelling and headaches."

Gabriella glared in Troy's direction, knowing he'd told the doctor about her symptoms.

"There could be a number of explanations, but I'm erring on the side of caution. Those symptoms could be early signs of preeclampsia. Your urine tested negative for protein, which is the primary indicator, but I don't want to take chances. I want you on bed rest for a week. We'll set up an appointment with you next Monday so we can do a recheck."

"If I tested negative for preeclampsia, why do I need to be on bed rest?" Gabriella protested.

"You don't have preeclampsia right now, but that doesn't mean it can't develop later," Dr. Grant explained. "The other symptoms need to be managed to prevent that from happening."

"Okay, so I'll sit during my lectures at school, and I'll put my feet up and relax as soon as I get home."

"Forget school," Troy interrupted. "This is not up for discussion. We're talking about your health here."

"Troy's right. When I say bed rest, I mean that you should be in bed or on the couch with your feet up at all times, except to go to the bathroom."

"I can't do that for an entire week!"

Dr. Grant crossed her arms. "Gabriella, if you develop preeclampsia, you'll be off your feet for the next two months."

Gabriella's jaw dropped open, and Dr. Grant's face softened. "Hopefully it won't come down to that. If we can get your swelling and blood pressure down, then that should prevent it from progressing any further."

Troy moved to sit on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her waist. "It'll take some adjustments, sweetie, but we'll get through it. We'll do whatever it takes to keep you healthy."

She wasn't convinced, but she realized that she didn't really have a choice. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, but she fought them back, refusing to let them fall. With a sigh, she looked up at Dr. Grant.

"Fine. How soon do I get to go home?"

"I'll write up the paperwork now, and you'll be on your way in less than an hour." She patted Gabriella's leg. "Hang in there, okay?"

"We will," Troy answered.

Easy for him to say, she thought crossly.

Dr. Grant waved as she left, and Troy stood. "I need to go talk to Dr. Gould about my schedule this week. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He dropped a quick kiss on her head and disappeared. Gabriella laid her head back on the pillow and allowed herself a few minutes to wallow in self-pity. Her sulking was cut short when Kelly poked her head in.

"Hey, are you up for visitors?" she asked.

Gabriella shrugged one shoulder. "I guess so."

Kelly came in, wearing her usual pink scrubs, and sat on the foot of the bed. Gabriella forgot her own worries when she saw the ugly bruise that covered Kelly's eye and cheek.

"Wow, that looks terrible," she blurted out. Realizing how rude that sounded, she hastily added, "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, some," Kelly answered. "Not as bad as it did yesterday. Mark was in full protective husband mode, checking me every few hours for signs of concussion, asking what my pain level was, insisting that I rest and take it easy."

"Welcome to my world," Gabriella muttered. "Troy is permanently stuck in protective husband mode."

"Frankly, I like it," Kelly answered. "I know that Mark loves me, but having him take care of me like that just took it to another level. It was really sweet."

"Trust me, after awhile it gets old."

Kelly frowned. "Gabi, what's wrong? I've never heard you complain about Troy like that."

"He told Dr. Grant about my blood pressure and swelling, and she put me on bed rest for a week!"

"Did she test your urine? Because those could be signs of…"

"Preeclampsia," Gabriella interrupted. "I know. I tested negative, but she put me on bed rest anyway. If Troy would've just butted out…"

Kelly crossed her arms. "Hold on there, Gabi. Troy is just trying to make sure nothing goes wrong with you or the baby. You can't blame him for that. Besides, Dr. Grant has been practicing medicine for a long time. I doubt that she would order bed rest unless she felt that it was necessary."

"Yeah, but maybe she wouldn't have thought it was necessary if Troy hadn't made such a big deal about it."

"Troy has been worried about you," Kelly argued. "What kind of doctor would he be if he ignored symptoms that could indicate possible complications? What if he didn't speak up and something happened to you or the baby? You know he'd never forgive himself."

"He's a doctor, but I'm his wife, not his patient!"

"You're right. He loves you far more than any of his patients, and he feels responsible for your health and well-being. Not a lot of husbands could have gone in that operating room like he did this morning."

"What's the big deal? He's in operating rooms every day. He didn't even have to do anything—I slept through the whole procedure!"

Kelly gave her friend an odd look. "Is that what he told you?"

"No, but I don't remember anything except going to sleep in the operating room and then waking up in recovery."

Kelly took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, and then touched Gabriella's leg. "I don't know if I should tell you this, but… Mark sat in the gallery and watched your surgery. You woke up four or five times during the procedure. He said you were in a great deal of pain, and Troy kept you calm and talked you through it. It was really hard on him, Gabi, seeing you suffer like that. So yeah, maybe he's a little overprotective sometimes, but give the man a break. He was there for you when you needed him most."

Gabriella stared at her friend, flabbergasted. "I had no idea," she finally confessed quietly.

"He's a great guy," Kelly told her gently. "And he's your guy. Count your blessings, not your burdens, hon."

"Thank you, Kel. I needed that." She reached out, and Kelly moved forward to hug her. "And just so you know, you're one of my blessings too."

Troy walked in then, and the two women released one another and wiped their eyes.

"I'd better get back to work," Kelly announced. "Gabi, take care of yourself, and let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Troy, that goes for you too."

"Yes, ma'am," Troy answered. He gave her a quick hug before she ducked out of the room, and then he returned his attention to his wife. "Are you okay? Is there anything you need?"

"Yes." Gabriella gestured for him to come closer, and he sat down on the bed. She took one of his hands and touched his face. "I need to tell you thanks. You're wonderful, and I don't tell you that often enough. I love you, Troy. More than anything."

The worried expression on his face softened, and he leaned in to give her a lingering kiss. "I love you too, sweetheart." A nurse came in pushing a wheelchair, with Gabriella's discharge papers tucked under her arm. Troy kissed his wife once more. "Are you ready, babe? Let's go home."