In case you missed it, I've started posting my new story, Someone Else's Baby! First chapter is up, second one will probably be mid-next week. If you're already reading, thank you so much for the support!
And as always, huge thanks to my wonderful team—annaharding, Maplestyle, and hotteaforme. You ladies are the best!
But now, back to our soccer stud.
Here goes…
Caught In A Riptide
Chapter Twenty-five
Lakely
Two days.
An excruciating forty-eight hours.
That's how long it takes for Arlo to wake up from his sedation.
When the doctor comes to us on Monday morning to say that they're going to start slowly reducing the medication keeping him asleep, I think we all expect his eyes to pop open right away. That's not what happens. Not even close. Instead, Bella and I sit with him all day and all night watching for a twitch, a flicker of his eyelids, something.
By Tuesday evening, when Bella dejectedly kisses my forehead and hugs Edward, leaving us by Arlo's bedside while she heads home to the sixers, Arlo is still scarily still. Edward and I pass the time sharing stories about young Arlo and his antics, reminiscing over his love of funny tees and enthusiasm for soccer.
"He wants to be a pro, like Brody," I whisper, smiling because I can see it so clearly. Him in Gator green, me in the stands with his family or watching on the big TV in the Cullens' den, all of us cheering for him and wearing his number on our backs. My eyes well up as I picture the twins in tiny green shirts.
When Edward doesn't say anything, I drag my gaze away from Arlo and frown at the contemplative look on Edward's face. "I think he's reconsidering that plan," he admits slowly, obviously thinking over his next words with care. "He's realizing that putting his all into pursuing that career might not be conducive to being available to you and to his daughters as much as you'll need him."
My stomach knots. "But...that's always been his plan."
Edward smiles, glancing down at my bump. "That was before, hon. Everything changes when you become a father." His expression turns nostalgic. "When I found out I was having my first daughter, my whole outlook shifted. Instead of working all the hours under the sun, I wanted to be home more. I wanted to be with my family. Arlo wants that, too."
I chew the inside of my cheek, turning my eyes back to Arlo. Why didn't he tell me?
"What are your plans, Lakely? What do you want to do after high school?"
Patting my belly with a rueful half-smile, I admit, "I don't think that matters too much now. I'll be busy with these two."
He chuckles and nods, like oh, right. "At first, yeah, but they won't always need you 24-7. Before you got pregnant, what did you want out of life? What did you picture yourself doing?"
Quietly, I admit, "I always saw myself in the bakery, I guess. One day, I probably would have taken over from Mom and Dad and run it."
"Is college in your plans?"
I'm shaking my head before he's finished asking his question. "I don't think so. I don't...I mean, if I hadn't gotten pregnant, sure. But now? No way. Not until they're older, at least. My mom had me when she was in college and always said how hard it was. I can't imagine trying to do it with twins."
"But you have something that your parents didn't, don't forget." Edward thumbs his chest. "Us. Me and Bella and a whole bunch of willing babysitters."
I mean...he's kind of right. My parents came to Florida for college and left their parents behind in Colorado, too far away to be much help once I unexpectedly came along just a year after their small wedding in their first year of college.
"But we'll be across the country in California if Arlo gets into Stanford," I point out, the knot in my stomach tightening. "They've already told him they want him."
Edward's eyebrows lift, a pleased smile spreading over his face. "He told you. Good."
It doesn't surprise me that Edward knew before I did. He and Arlo have always been close, but then Edward was born to be a dad. He's great with all his kids and he always seems to know what to do, what to say.
As I thread our fingers together, I wonder if Arlo will be like that, if I'll have Bella's warmth and maternal instincts.
I wonder if there's anything my daughters could do to make me disown them like my parents have disowned me and feel bolstered when I recoil at the mere idea, knowing that I've at least got that on my side. Nothing could make me do what my parents have done. My girls...they're stuck with me.
"All right, time to try and get some sleep," Edward finally murmurs, lifting out of his chair with a soft groan as he stretches. "I'll stretch my legs out in the hall. Try and get a nap in; you're exhausted."
There's no denying the fatherly tone he's started using on me, so I don't even try. Besides, if I'm honest, I'm beat. Being pregnant takes the energy out of me like nothing else I've ever experienced, and I've had maybe eight hours sleep since Friday.
As Edward steps out, I press a kiss on one of the few parts of Arlo's face that hasn't turned blue or black with bruising, briefly mourning the loss of his own smell now he's been here long enough to just smell like hospital. Settling onto the lumpy cot beside his bed, I stare at his chest moving evenly, at his closed eyes, and eventually fall asleep desperately wishing that tomorrow will be the day he finally wakes up.
~ oOo ~
I wake up too early, my body aching and protesting the uncomfortable bed as I yawn and glance at the clock.
It's only just after four a.m., so I have no idea why I've woken up so early until my brain kicks in and I register the feeling of having eyes on me. Glancing over at Edward, I smile a little at him, slack-jawed and snoring softly in the armchair. He's way too big for it, long legs stretched right out and his arms hanging over the sides.
My amusement dies, the prickle of watching eyes getting more intense. A slight increase in the speed of the beeps next to me pulls my attention away from Edward, and that's when I see.
It's Arlo staring at me.
His chocolate penny eyes are open, bloodshot and half-lidded but looking right at me as silent tears trail over his cheek to soak into his pillow.
"Arlo…" I croak, scrambling clumsily off the cot to rush to him as fast as my quickly changing body lets me. "You're awake, oh my God, you're awake."
He moves like he's trying to speak before screwing his eyes shut, and I shake my head and touch his cheek gently.
"Don't talk, you're...you're intubated." Tears start to spill over, their warmth rushing through me. He's awake. Finally, he's awake. "You need to stay still. You're in the hospital. You…" Anger mixes with my relief and the fear that lingers, even now. "You have so many injuries. You almost…"
Understanding clouds his eyes, and I almost fall apart when I feel his fingers shakily twisting around mine to give them a weak squeeze.
My heart breaks for him when he lifts his wobbly head, looking down at himself. I feel the shiver that ripples down his spine as he takes it all in, and when he meets my gaze again, I know the fear in his eyes will be burned into my brain forever.
"We'll explain everything, okay? Just...hold on. Your dad—" When I move to wake Edward, Arlo's grip on my hand tightens. He shakes his head just the tiniest bit, already drifting back off to sleep, his eyes fluttering shut. "He'll want to see you awake, Arlo."
With one last squeeze of our joined hands, I hear his unspoken "stay" and smile, stroking hair out of his eyes. "Okay," I whisper, staying right by his side as I call Edward's name just loud enough to wake him.
When he comes to, worry immediately blanketing his features, I get to witness the rush of relief that burns it away as I point at Arlo blinking sleepily.
~ oOo ~
...two weeks later…
"Are you ready?"
"Hell yeah," Arlo cheers, grin firmly in place as he looks at me and winks, letting Bella fuss over him as he gets off the bed for the last time.
"Slowly, slowly," she frets, her smile rueful when he lifts an eyebrow at her, dropping his good arm around her shoulders. "You are not going to guilt me for fussing, Arlo Maxwell Cullen," Bella huffs, reaching up to flick his cheek. His bruising has finally gone down, although in some lights, the yellow tinge is still there in places. "You scared the life out of me. I'm owed at least a few weeks of babying."
"All right, Momma," Arlo agrees softly, hugging her to him. "Okay, can we get outta here? I'm dyin' for some chili cheese fries and a burger."
Edward's snort of laughter announces his arrival, and I smile up at him as he squeezes my shoulder and grins at his son. "That's your first priority?"
Arlo arches his brows. "You've seen the food they serve in this place, right?"
"Okay," Edward laughs. "You win."
When Arlo steps out into the sunshine for the first time in over two weeks, relief pours off him. He tips his head back to the sun and we all stop to give him a second. His eyes are shut, but the smile on his face...it lights up my world.
I'll never take it for granted again.
Climbing into the Jeep, Arlo bitches about not being allowed to drive until Bella points out that he can keep me company in the backseat. Flicking a glance my way, he pipes down and quits whining, only cursing a couple of times when he realizes he's got to scoot over if he wants to rest his bad arm against the door.
The drive back to the Bay will take a couple of hours, so I wiggle around to get comfortable, adjusting my belt around my fast-growing belly. I catch Arlo smirking over at me and offer him a smile of my own. "These babies are growing like weeds."
"They sure are." Reaching over, he palms my stomach and looks up at my face hopefully.
I hate having to shake my head, but the boyish pout he wears when I admit the babies are still at the moment makes me laugh. "They always nap around this time. After every meal, actually."
"Quit puttin' my babies in food comas, woman," he grumbles halfheartedly, leaving his hand right where it is anyway. "I wanna feel 'em move."
He wouldn't be quite so sour about it if Bella hadn't already felt them, I don't think. I catch her eye when she glances over her shoulder at me, pursing my lips to stop myself from laughing because I know exactly what she's thinking.
We shouldn't have told him.
In fairness, we were both so excited that we just didn't think, but it happened when we were back in the Bay last week. I went back to her house to help get some more of Arlo's things and we were just heading out to the car to return to Arlo when I felt the hardest kick yet. Grabbing Bella's hand, I quickly held it over the spot where Baby B was stretching.
We both cried when she landed another solid kick—this time right against Bella's palm.
Of course, Arlo's never been one to stew in silence.
"You know, it's just plain rude that they like you more than they like me, Mom."
We're horrible, horrible people.
Bella, Edward, and I all crack up laughing while Arlo harrumphs and curses us under his breath.
He doesn't move his hand away from my bump all the way back to Jackson Bay, though.
~ oOo ~
For the rest of that week, Bella and Edward let me stay at their house to help take care of Arlo when they're busy working or chasing after the sixers.
River, Oakley, Caben, Mackenzie, Asher, and Rylee are all stoked to have their big brother home, but their enthusiasm exhausts him, and Arlo napping on the couch becomes a frequent occurrence.
The Cullens' pool is heated, so while the sixers are at school, Arlo and I spend half our time submerged up to our necks in the warm water, a lump lodged in my throat every time I see him close his eyes as he slips in. The doctor warned us that he might experience flashbacks from the accident, and although he promises he's fine every time I ask if he wants to lay off swimming, I think that's exactly what's happening.
He's reliving those last minutes before he passed out. He's haunted by the water crushing him, by the tide sweeping him up and tossing him around like a ragdoll.
When our friends come over that weekend, I'm relieved when they veto swimming, and while Arlo is distracted, Charlotte quietly tells me that his board is back at Liam's. It washed up on the beach the day after the accident and someone from school recognized it, so they dropped it off with Liam when nobody answered over at the Cullens'.
Watching Arlo tiredly hug Heidi before laughing at Tyler's awkwardly hesitant hug, I tell her I'll pick it up and keep it at the apartment until Arlo mentions it.
Bella and Edward took the sixers out early this morning so that Arlo could have a full day of peace and quiet, so we take our friends down to the den in the basement and put a movie on, popcorn and candy and sodas spread across the coffee table while we kick back and pretend the last three weeks were just a terrible nightmare.
Of course, we can't avoid it forever.
Liam and Heidi share a loaded look before he sighs, sitting up a big straighter. "Uh, Arlo? I've, ah, we've got somethin' to tell you."
Their voices and faces put my guard up instantly and Arlo loses his carefree grin.
Mine drops too, dread building as he shuffles around a little, fingers slipping between mine. I squeeze them tight, warmed by the thought that he reaches out to me for comfort even though I hate that he even has to. For so long, I've felt reliant on him, like this relationship was one-sided.
It doesn't feel that way anymore.
Heidi blows out a big breath, and I realize she and Liam aren't the only ones who know what she's about to say. Tyler, Charlotte, and Demetri have gone awfully quiet, Demetri's arm draped around Charlotte's shoulders and her hand resting comfortably on his thigh.
They finally had their first date last week. I guess what happened to Arlo put a rocket up Demetri's butt and made him realize that we're not promised anything.
Not time, not love, not life.
"Vicky's gone."
"Thank God," I mutter, not expecting the tight expressions on my friends' faces. "What?"
"Not gone, out of town," Heidi says slowly, eyes flicking between me and Arlo. "She's gone, as in...dead. The Russos were yanked out of class yesterday, but Renata texted some of her skanky friends and they basically spread it all around school. She took some bad coke from Alec and Renata's brother—the druggie one?—and got rushed to the hospital Thursday night. She, uh, she died on the way."
"That's, uh, not all," Liam adds quietly. "Her brother, Hunter, he's back in jail for putting the guy who sold them the drugs in a coma."
"Well...fuck," Arlo breathes. When I hesitantly turn to face him, his shock is obvious, but so is an emotion I didn't expect to see.
Guilt.
"Arlo…"
"I need a minute."
When the door to the basement slams shut a few moments later, my friends staring at me with varying degrees of confusion, understanding, and worry, I sigh. "I'm gonna go find him."
"We'll leave you to it," Heidi says, widening her eyes at Liam and Demetri when they start to protest. "Come on. Lakely can handle this. Right?"
I'm not sure. "Right." Swallowing hard, I follow the crew up the stairs and see them out, waiting until they're all out of sight before making my way upstairs. I already know where I'll find him.
Sure enough, when I slip into his bedroom, he's nowhere to be seen, but when I stretch my head and shoulders out of his window, careful not to squish the babies against the ledge, I find him.
Hunched, with his legs pulled up and tucked into his chest and his chin resting on his knees, he looks like the little boy I met what feels like a lifetime ago.
A gust of wind whips across the roof, chilling me to my bones, and I wince as he drops a hand to the tiles to brace himself. "You shouldn't be out there. You're still not back to full strength," I tell him gently, frustrated when he just grunts. "Come in, talk to me," I plead, trying not to sound as irritated as he's making me feel with his stupid stubbornness. "If you're not coming in, I'll come out." When he doesn't move, I sigh and curse my basketball belly, heaving myself up onto the ledge. Just as I swing my feet over, my socked feet touching the roof tiles, a set of hands land on my knees.
The tortured look in Arlo's gaze when I lift my eyes to meet it steals the breath from my lungs.
"I'm comin' in," he whispers.
Tugging him back inside by the strings of his hoodie, I pull him over to the bed and lift the covers, waiting until he's lying comfortably before crawling in beside him. With the comforter drawn up over our heads and his hands covering the swell housing our twins, I ignore my own thoughts and emotions, focusing on his for a moment.
"What are you thinking?" I murmur.
"I feel like...it's my fault," he admits, staring down at his hands, my belly, as my heart thumps double time.
"Why?"
"I didn't treat her the best. I should never have dated her in the first place. I cheated on her and didn't even remember."
I chew my lip. "I'm guilty there, too. I was a part of that."
"You had no responsibility to her, Lakers. I did. I was a dick to her when we broke up and pretty much every time I've seen her since then." I feel his big, shuddery sigh. "And then at the beach, I really thought...from where I was, she looked like she was freaking out."
I don't know how to feel about her, now I know she's gone. Part of me hates her for being so reckless, for endangering not only her own life but also Arlo's and anybody else who tried to save her.
Another part of me feels a weird sense of I know how she felt.
I've spent most of my life so in love with Arlo that I could barely see straight—not that I'd ever have done anything as drastic as trying to lure him out to sea to 'save my life,' but...I don't know. It's no secret that her cousins weren't the only ones who took drugs, and they're not exactly known to help with decision-making.
"I think," I start carefully, "that what happened is a massive shame. Besides everything else, she was seventeen years old and it was obviously a horrible accident. But Arlo, that wasn't your fault. Nothing about her taking those drugs was on you."
Most of the light is dimmed by the comforter, but I can make out his furrowed brows. "I didn't treat her as well as I should have."
"That doesn't mean you're responsible for this, Arlo. It doesn't. You can be sad about it, but don't feel guilty for something that was totally out of your control—mostly because you were in hospital due to something she and her crazy brother did."
"You're probably right," he finally sighs.
"Of course I am." Snuggling in as close as I can, I cup one hand under his cheek, lightly tapping the tip of his nose, and thread my fingers through his where they rest on my belly.
Lying there in our quiet, dark cocoon, I listen to him breathing and take a moment to think of Vicky.
I won't lie, I hated her.
She was mean, spiteful, and took every opportunity to rub the fact that she was the one dating Arlo in my face.
That said, she was still just a girl. A seventeen-year-old girl who might have turned her life around and gone on to do amazing things. Objectively, her death is just as much a tragedy as Arlo's would have been if he hadn't pulled through. Nobody should die at seventeen. Not even Vicky James.
Someone agrees with me, too, I guess.
Arlo's head snaps up, wide chocolate eyes finding mine before flying back down to our hands on my belly. "Did she just…"
"Yeah," I breathe, tears flooding my eyes as Arlo sniffles and scoots down the bed until his face is right there, hovering over my belly button as one of the twins—I think it's Baby B—kicks hard against his fingers. When he peers up at me with wonder, his cheeks are wet with his own tears. "Do you feel it?" I whisper.
"I feel her." Reverent, he sneaks his hands under my tee—his tee—and murmurs, "Hi, baby girl. Daddy's here."
~ oOo ~
Despite the rocky start to December, slowly, we get back to normal.
Well, our new normal, anyway.
Arlo returns to school and soccer practice, mad when even Coach agrees that he has to take it easy.
The twins get stronger by the day it seems like, and bigger, and Arlo's hands are almost permanently stuck to my belly so he can feel them moving. It's equal parts adorable and maddening.
In the middle of December, Arlo's Nana and Papa give us an early gift and pick us up from school to drive us to Jacksonville for a 4D scan of the twins. We get to see their cute button noses and pursed lips, their tiny hands and feet. Arlo claims our wild baby, Baby B, and tells me she's just like Rylee was in the womb.
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry, since just the day before Bella was telling me all about how Rylee landed herself a three-day suspension from school for almost blowing up the science lab.
It takes my mind off a holiday that's fast approaching but can't be avoided.
Christmas.
It's the first one I'll spend away from my parents, away from Austin. I've got gifts for each of them wrapped up under the tree at Edward and Bella's. I got Austin the same 'Funcle' tee that Arlo got River, Oakley, Caben, Mackenzie, and Asher.
I just hope Mom and Dad will let me give it to him.
When Christmas day arrives, I wake up before the sun is even up, all my senses on high alert because I can definitely hear someone moving around downstairs. Grabbing the nearest thing that could double as a weapon, I creep over to the railing and hold my breath as I peer over…
"Arlo? What are you doing here at...five-freaking-a.m.?"
He flashes me a guilty smile as his shoulders droop, a big sack of gifts sliding off his shoulder to land on the sofa beside him. "Shit. You weren't supposed to hear me."
Arching my brows, I purse my lips. "What, creeping in like that? I've heard quieter elephants."
He snorts, and then it's his turn to try to smother a grin. "Were you really gonna defend yourself with that?"
Looking at my hand, I burst with giggles, admitting the 'What To Expect When You're Expecting' book is probably not the best defense against an intruder.
"You didn't tell me why you're oh-so-quietly sneaking in before the sun is even up," I point out a few minutes later once I've slipped on some fluffy socks and padded downstairs to join him.
Tossing his thumb over his shoulder, he admits, "I wanted to put these under the tree so when you woke up, it'd be like what you're used to."
My heart aches. "You're too freaking sweet, Arlo." Gently tugging his face down so I can press a kiss against his lips, I feel my blush spreading over my cheeks and chest. It never quits, even though kissing is something we do kind of all the time now.
I don't think I'll ever get used to it.
"I thought we were doing gifts at your house?"
"We can, if you want, but I figured we're gonna have to be there next year 'cause they'll want to spend it with the twins, so it might be nice to have a few hours just you and me." His excitement wavers, uncertainty spoiling his good mood. "Sorry, it's dumb. We'll just do gifts at Mom and Dad's, it was a stupid idea—"
"Hey, quit it, will you! I think it's a great idea."
His smile returns and all is right in the world again.
"But first…" Grabbing his hand, I tug the handle of his big bag down off his arm and then pull him toward the stairs. "I need more sleep if you want any kind of enthusiasm when I open those gifts. Come on, you can be my hot water bottle."
"Yes, Ma'am," Arlo laughs, gently guiding me to a stop at the top of the stairs, him standing a couple below so we're temporarily the same height and he can not-so-chastely kiss me into oblivion.
To those of you who thought I might actually *do it* and kill my baby Arlo, shame on you ;)
No, in all seriousness, I've had the accident planned since I was writing Waves of Hope, I just wasn't sure how or when it would happen. This story sort of wrote itself, and aside from a few hiccups here and there, I think it's done a pretty okay job of getting me to the point I was aiming for.
Next update next weekend. Thank you all for your love and support, it means the world xo