I just updated chapter 58 as well. So if you've reached this chapter without reading chapter 58, I suggest you go back one step.

Thank you for reading…

Chapter 59

"Would you like to hold her?" nurse Anna asked.

"Could I?" Liz asked worriedly, looking at the extremely small baby on the other side of the hard plastic box.

She glanced at Max and he gave her an encouraging smile. He hadn't been given the opportunity to hold Miranda yet so Liz being offered to hold her daughter must be a good sign. It had to mean that Miranda was getting stronger. Yesterday they had removed the tubes in her nose that were supplying her with extra oxygen, which meant that she was healthy enough to breathe on her own.

"Of course," Anna answered.

"But doesn't she have to be in the incubator?" What if she hurt her daughter in any way?

Anna shook her head. "The purpose of the incubator is to keep Miranda warm because she doesn't have enough body fat to do it on her own. But if you take her out of there, we will put a cap on her head and put her under your gown so that she can get direct body warmth from you."

"Oh…" was all Liz could say.

"Do you want to hold her?" Anna repeated, smiling warmly.

Liz stared at Miranda, a myriad of feelings bubbling inside of her. She was so close to hold her. Her baby. Her answer was barely audible. "Yes."

Max had already instructed Liz to wash her hands, so all they had to do was to lift Miranda out of the incubator. The small body shivered as the cool air of the outside environment hit her and she stirred in her sleep. Staring at Miranda without blinking, Liz started pulling on the hospital gown. Max saw what she was trying to do and quickly helped to loosen the bow which was holding her gown together at the back. Liz smiled 'thank you' as he helped to pull the gown down her shoulder.

Liz's breath got caught in her throat as Anna placed Miranda against her breast, guiding the small legs into the gown, aligning Miranda's body diagonally across Liz's stomach. As Liz stared down at Miranda, Anna fetched a blanket and put it around Liz and the baby. She gave Max a small white cap with blue ducks on it and Max awkwardly put it on Miranda's head. Miranda moved slightly and Liz expelled the breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding.

"She's beautiful," she whispered and looked up at Max.

Max smiled at her, tears forming in his eyes. Liz didn't grant Max many seconds as she quickly returned her gaze to their daughter. She gently ran her finger over the small nose, over one cheek and watched how Miranda would reflexively turn towards her mother's finger, making sucking movements with her pink lips. A plastic tube was tracing Miranda's cheek and the end was taped to the side of her head. At her confused expression, Max explained to her that it was a nasogastric tube used for food. Miranda's right hand was fisted up against Liz's breast and Liz carefully traced the thin arm, encircled the wrist with her index finger and gently pried the fingers apart so that she could look at each individual finger.

"Look at her nails," Liz said quietly, mostly to herself. The nails were the size of a third of a sunflower seed and her own nail looked gigantic next to Miranda's.

Miranda's lack of body fat became obvious as Liz looked further down Miranda's body and saw the motion of her heart beating against the fragile ribcage, producing a rapid rhythmic rise and fall of the skin. Max watched the interaction between Liz and Miranda, occasionally pulling the blanket closer around his two girls as he imagined the air growing increasingly chillier around them.

They stayed like that for another half an hour, Max kneeling next to Liz's wheelchair and Liz hugging Miranda protectively against her skin. But even though Liz was trying to fight it, and hide it, Max could see that she was growing increasingly tired.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently and she met his eyes, her gaze tired but happy.

"Yes," she answered.

Anna, seeing how Liz was fighting to keep her eyes open and understanding how difficult it was for Liz to leave Miranda, decided to intervene and take the decision out of the couple's hands so that they didn't have to feel guilty about leaving.

"I think Miranda is a little hungry," Anna said. "Would you like to feed her?"

If she let Liz do something, Liz was more likely to stay awake and she would have more peace of mind when she had to leave.

"How…uhm…what…"

Liz knew how babies were fed, but this wasn't a normal baby. She also knew that the nurses had been instructing her on how to mechanically pump milk out of her breast that would be used to feed her child. She wasn't sure how it worked from there though.

Reading her hesitation and confusion, Anna explained, "A syringe with your breast milk will be attached to this tube," she pointed at the tube that was taped to the side of Miranda's head, "and then we will just push the milk into the tube. The tube goes through her esophagus, down to her stomach."

Liz grimaced. It sounded horrible. It must be so uncomfortable for Miranda to have that tube down her nose. But she didn't say anything, merely nodded her interest in trying to help feed Miranda.

Anna prepared the syringe and attached it to the tube. Liz looked up at Max worriedly.

"Do you want me to do it?" Max asked.

Suddenly Liz felt ridiculous. This was her child. Of course she could press down on a simple syringe. "No, I'll do it."

As she was about to press down, Miranda opened her eyes and looked up at Liz. Liz sucked in her breath as she met the blue-grey eyes.

"Hello," she whispered. "Max…"

Max wordlessly squeezed Liz's hand and kissed the side of her head.

"It's true," Liz said wistfully.

"What is?" Max asked.

"That all babies have blue eyes," Liz answered.

"It appears so," Max said.

Her eyes not leaving Miranda's, who was staring intently at Liz as if she wanted to tell her mother something important, Liz pressed on the syringe and pushed milk into Miranda's stomach.

Feeding didn't take very long. Miranda was soon fast asleep again and, as Max was soon to realize, Liz was almost asleep as well.

"Lizzie?"

"Mhmm," she murmured, blinking heavily.

"Let's get some sleep," Max said.

Liz reluctantly looked down at Miranda's slumbering countenance. She wasn't really that tired. She could stay. Wouldn't it be better if Miranda just continued sleeping here, in her arms?

"You can come back later," Anna said.

Liz looked between Anna's friendly face and her sleeping daughter.

"Okay," she said, disappointment clinging to her voice.

Anna leaned down and with united efforts Liz, Max and Anna got Miranda out of the warm cocoon Liz had created. During the air flight from her mother to the incubator, Miranda woke up. What was first small disapproving sobs quickly turned into full out crying. Liz felt the sudden urge to grab Miranda from Anna's hands as she put the screaming Miranda into the incubator, but Max's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"What's wrong?" Liz wondered worriedly.

"She just woke up," Max answered.

Fierce protectiveness over his daughter had put its claws into Max as well as his daughter's screams had filled the air, but having had experience with babies before he could more easily control that instinctive need to rescue Miranda than what Liz, who hadn't had any experience with newborns, could.

"She's okay?" Liz asked, frightened for her daughter's well-being.

"She's fine," Anna answered and as if Miranda wanted to confirm this, she settled down as the warmth of the interior quickly lulled her back to sleep.

"I'm not really that tired," Liz said and yawned. "I could stay for a little while longer."

"Liz," Max said, "Anna will take good care of Miranda and she will be here when you have gotten some sleep."

"You can come and visit any time," Anna said.

"Really?"

"Yes," Anna answered. "If I'm not here, someone else will be."

"Thank you," Liz said.

"Let's get you in bed," Max said, helping to tie Liz's gown back together. Liz was asleep before Max had taken off the breaks of the wheelchair.

------------------------------------------------

It was a week later before Liz was considered well enough to go home. She had spent most of that week sleeping and spending time with Miranda. It was with great sadness that she was wheeled out of her room, feeling like she was leaving her heart behind.

Max, seeing her lost expression, said reassuringly, "We'll visit her everyday."

"I know," Liz said, trying to offer him a smile. "It just won't be the same."

Max kissed her temple and she smiled despite her grey feelings. At least she was going home with Max. She had missed him.

Max wasn't able to get anymore days off work and had to go to work the next morning, but Liz would most certainly be spending most of her days at the hospital anyway. It was an unspoken agreement. Liz would look after Miranda when Max couldn't and Max would join her after work.

Forty minutes later, Max carried Liz across the threshold to their house. She had fallen asleep during the car trip and Max didn't have the heart to wake her up. She still needed as much sleep as possible. The doctors had ruled her physically well, but anyone could see that she was emotionally drained. As he pushed the door open further with his foot, his eyes opened wide at the sight of Maria with her mouth open wide, just about to say – make that yell – something.

"Maria," Max whispered in warning which fortunately put a stop to Maria's outcry.

However, it wasn't enough to stop Michelle, who exclaimed; "SUPPISE!!"

Max sighed and rolled his eyes as Maria turned around and hushed the little girl. "Michelle, Liz is asleep; you have to be a bit quiet now."

"She's awake now," Liz murmured against Max's chest and Max looked down at her, mouthing 'sorry'. He lowered her feet to the floor and slightly wobbly with sleep, Liz stepped up to Maria and pulled her into a hug.

"Sorry, Liz," Maria said, "Maybe I should've told Max about this so that he could've warned us that you had fallen asleep."

"That's okay," Liz reassured.

She smiled as small arms wrapped around her knees and looked down at Michelle. The blonde girl was looking up at her with an insecure expression, silently wondering if Liz was mad at her for having been woken up.

Liz kneeled down, wincing slightly at the pain that lingered from the surgery, and looked at Michelle seriously. "Don't I get a hug?"

Michelle brightened and flung her arms around Liz's neck with such force that Liz fell slightly backwards.

"Michelle," Max warned, "Be careful."

"It's okay, Max," Liz said, hugging the small body close. "Now, tell me Michelle, what is the surprise?"

Michelle pulled away, her eyes and mouth round as she gestured excitedly with her arms in the air, about to spill it all.

"Shelley, remember what we decided?"

Liz looked up at Michael to witness a silent communication between the three-year-old and the twenty-six year old, which resulted in Michelle biting her lower lip and shaking her head at Liz. "I's can't tell Liz." Distracted by Liz's flattened stomach, Michelle curiously changed the topic of conversation. "Baby is not in Liz's tummy any longer. Where did it go?"

Isabel emerged from the shadows and sat down next to her daughter. Giving Liz a quick apology, she turned to her daughter. "Michelle, remember that I told you that the baby came out from Liz's tummy?"

Michelle nodded seriously. "But where is it?"

Max put a consoling hand on Liz's shoulder, sensing the inner turmoil, as he stepped up behind her and answered Michelle, "The baby is still in the hospital."

Michelle's forehead folded in three creases. "Why?"

"The doctors are looking after her, honey," Isabel answers.

"Does the baby has a tummy ache?"

Last time Michelle had been sick with a stomachache, her worried mother had taken her to the doctor.

"Something like that," Max answered.

Michelle's face contorted in concern. "But…but…she's dere all alone."

Alex picked this moment to interfere, seeing the obvious guilt cross over Liz's face, and scooped his daughter into his arms.

"Come on, Shell-bell, let's show Liz the surprise."

The baby temporarily forgotten, Michelle animatedly clapped her hands together. "Yay!!"

Max put an arm around Liz and helped her to her feet. "You okay?"

Shaking the feelings off her, she nodded and mustered up a smile. "Yeah… I'm fine."

He was still looking at her worriedly. "There's nothing we can do. She is best off at the hospital."

"I know that," Liz swallowed.

Max pulled her into a hug, "Come here." Liz sighed against his chest, letting him hold her and comfort her while their friends patiently waited at the base of the stairs. Well, almost all of them were waiting patiently.

"Uuuncle Maaax!"

"I think she wants our attention," Liz mumbled with a smile in her voice.

Max gently kissed her forehead and sighed, "Becoming more and more like her mother every day."

Max grabbed Liz's hand and together they walked towards the stairs. While passing Isabel, his sister said to him, "I heard that."

Max just smiled, which made Isabel breathe easier. For not the first time, and most definitely not the last, she had to admit to herself that Liz had done wonders in her brother's life. The upcoming surprise was just a miniscule sign of her gratitude to Liz for bringing Max back from his dance on the edge of death.

---------------------------------------------------

All she could do was to sigh as the melancholy, which had been hovering on the outskirts of her consciousness since she came home, took a firmer grip on her. She wanted to go back to the hospital, wanted to go back and visit her daughter. With sadness, and numerous other emotions she didn't even dare to name, she watched the water turn slightly white as it ran in rivulets over her swollen breasts. She bit her lower lip, harder than she was aware of, as she tried to muffle the sorrow. She closed her eyes and hung her head, leaning her body forward while her weight was supported by her hands on the tiled wall, letting the water cascade around her heavily.

She couldn't imagine having to live like this for at least a month, awaiting the homecoming of her daughter. She didn't want to be separated from Miranda, but everyone in the medical staff had assured her that it would be better if she went home and got some rest in her own bed. They had assured her that she could visit Miranda during the days.

She directed her face into the stream of water and let her tears be washed away. It wasn't enough. Seeing Miranda once or twice during the day wasn't enough. It didn't matter that she could stay there for as long as she wanted to. It wasn't the same.

Her hands brushed over her full breasts and she wondered what it would feel like to breast-feed her daughter. It was a normal part of being a mother that she had always taken for granted. Even though they had been prepared for a difficult pregnancy, she had never thought that she would have to watch her milk flow down a tube that disappeared into the nose of her baby. There was nothing natural about it.

She gave a start as she felt arms slide around her waist. She swallowed the tears, trying to regain composure.

"Max, you have to stop scaring me like that."

She cursed her voice for trembling, suspecting that Max had picked up on it when his arms tightened around her, flushing her back against his front. Her body gasped in response to having him so close, feeling every inch of his front against her back, and her eyes unconsciously drifted closed. Thanks to their proximity, she was certain he could feel her quiver as he pressed his lips against the side of her neck, softly and ever so gently trailing down the tense muscles.

"How are you feeling?"

Her breathing was becoming shallower and she struggled to answer him evenly. "I'm okay."

His hands shimmed over her stomach, fuller now as a result of the pregnancy. "Do you miss her?"

She dropped her eyes, looking down at where his hands were lovingly positioned on the place where Miranda had been residing just ten days ago. At her silence, he rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her upper arms, his underarms slightly pressing against the swell of her breasts. Detached, Liz noticed the stark contrast of Max's dark tanned bronze skin against her fair, almost white, skin. The sight caused a shiver to tickle down her spine and her head leaned backwards, coming to rest against his chest.

"I didn't know it would be this hard," she said softly.

He replied by kissing her temple. She closed her eyes and continued, "I thought the pregnancy was going to be the worst part. But this is worse. She might still…what if she…and I'm not going to be there."

Max's arms loosened around her just enough to turn her around in the circle of his arms. The sobs got caught in her throat as golden eyes met chocolate brown.

"Stop that right now," he said quietly, but with such intensity that she hiccupped on the restrained sobs. "She's going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen to her."

She wasn't convinced. She wanted to believe him, so desperately. But she didn't dare to. So she averted her eyes, staring at the blue tile to the right of his broad chest.

"Liz," he said and some of the firmness had regressed to give room to tenderness. His hand gripped the base of her chin and he forced her to look at him. "You were bleeding so much in the beginning that I was constantly prepared to hear that she had died." He winced at the sounds of her sobs as they stumbled over her lips. "I was living in terror - every day - that she would be taken away from us."

"I know," she sobbed quietly. She had felt the same way, and she had been next to him during those endless nights when nightmares had prevented him from getting any sleep at all.

He bent down somewhat to catch her eyes, which she kept conveniently directed away from him. "I don't know how she did it, but she hung on. Baby, she's a fighter. Just like you."

She gave a humorless laugh, raising her head to look at him. Max smiled at her softly, his fingers caressing the side of her face, her neck, her arm. "She's going to get through this. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

She smiled tentatively. "You really think that?"

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he captured her wet, trembling lips with his, mumbling into her mouth. "Yes."

The kiss was deepened when Liz responded and with a groan Max steadied her head, pushing his fingers through her wet hair. Liz whimpered; a sound that was almost Max's undoing. He could never resist her. Would never be able to resist her. But now he had to. They couldn't take it further, not yet. Reluctantly, and earning a moan of disappointment from Liz, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as he willed his heart, and other parts of his body, to calm down.

"I love you," she whispered and Max looked down at her, momentarily fascinated by how the water drops would cling to her dark eye-lashes before the weight would dislodge them and have them tumbling down her flushed cheeks.

"I love you more," he answered with a smirk that elicited a laugh from her.

She shook her head stubbornly, "No, I love you more."

She gasped in surprise as his lips entrapped her earlobe. His murmured reply caused tickling vibrations to scurry over her ear, down the skin of the side of her face and neck. "No, I-"

"Prove it," she whispered heatedly.

He pulled back to look at her. "Is that a challenge?"

She bit her bottom lip, blushing under the raw desire in his gaze and, as her voice failed her, she simply nodded. His look alone was turning her into a quivering mass of jelly and she struggled for her next breath. He moved closer, his body inching her body backwards until she was pressed up against the wall. She gulped as the coldness of the tiles made contact with the heat of her skin.

"Liz, we have to stop." His words contradicted his actions as his hands brushed over her skin. She arched into his hand as he reverently touched her breast.

"Don't…" she gasped.

"I don't want to hurt you," he mumbled, his lips leaving hers and traveling down the arch of her neck. His hands enveloped hers and their fingers interlaced as he pushed her arms over her head, pressing them against the wall, needing to be as close to her as possible.

"Max…"

"We should stop," he repeated, returning his mouth to hers, increasing the intensity of the kiss.

"No…" she moaned. He took a deep breath and then he pulled away, regretfully stroking her wet cheek. The loss of the warmth from his body chilled her even with the hot water raining down on them.

"Max, please…"

Unable to meet her pleading eyes, he pulled her into his arms, fitting her head under his chin. "We can't, baby. We can't. The doctor-"

"I don't care about what the doctor said," she interrupted quietly. Before, they could've hurt Miranda, but there was no risk of doing that now. She was willing to take the risk. She needed him. Had longed for him for months. Not only her body was aching for him, but her mind.

His stillness and silence spoke volumes of his hesitation. She decided to make the decision easier for him and pressed her mouth against his shoulder, feeling the hardness of his shoulder blade against her lips, a sensation she found highly erotic. His body was so hard, his muscles taut. Her eyes traveled down his bicep and her breathing picked up. Having his large arms holding onto her so tightly caused her to tremble in anticipation, image after image of where this strong body was more than capable of taking her filling her head.

"I want you," she said. "I want you so desperately."

His body tensed against her and the cessation of movement from his chest told her that he too had forgotten the simple mechanism of breathing.

"Let me love you," she continued, kissing a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his chest, smiling as his muscles rippled under her touch. She knew that he was looking out for her, worried that she would still be in pain from her ordeal, but sometimes he just didn't know the right thing to do. She just needed to give him a push in the right direction.

But as she slid down further down his body, pain engulfed her, distracting her from her ministrations. The wince crossed her features before she could even consciously plan to stop it and when he moved down and gently grabbed her by the arms, she knew that he had seen it.

"Come here."

Her abdomen ached as Max slowly straightened her body, holding her close to his body so she could support her weight on him.

"I'm okay," she said weakly, trying to remove the traitorous visible signs of pain from her face.

"Sure you are," Max mumbled and reached behind her to retrieve a shampoo bottle.

She watched him as he squeezed the liquid into his hand. She studied his face as he brought the shampoo-drenched hands to her head and began to slowly massage it into her hair, his fingertips massaging her scalp in the process.

"Max, seriously, I'm fine," Liz reiterated.

"You need to get some sleep," Max answered, still not looking at her.

She looked at him closely, resisting the urge to close her eyes at the way his fingers were deliciously sliding through her hair, rubbing against her head. That's when she realized.

"Max, it wasn't your fault."

When Max's hands momentarily stilled in her hair, she knew that she had been dead on.

"I need you so much, Max. I really thought that we could do this. It's been so long…too long."

"I should've stopped it."

Liz laughed softly at this, tempting Max to look at her.

"I'm not a child, honey. I'm responsible for my own actions. The only reason why I'm hurting right now is because I brought it upon myself."

He looked away from her and said gently, "Turn around."

She did as she was told and Max led her head into the streaming water, tilting her head back and keeping his hand pressed across her hairline to prevent the foam from running into her eyes.

"I should've stopped it."

His solemn voice drifted through the water running past her ears and she mentally shook her head in hopelessness. Max Evans was the king of self-blame.

Very carefully, he covered her body in shower gel, making sure that every inch of her was covered, his hands lingering first on the stitches from the caesarean and then the scar between her breasts from the heart transplant.

"I'm scarred," she said then, but he only shook his head.

"You're stunning." And the awe in his voice left no room for objections.

He turned off the tap and wrapped her in a large towel, his heart clenching at how small and fragile she looked as the dark blue material practically consumed her.

"Let's go to bed," he said as he rubbed the material over her skin.

She nodded and then leaned in to give him a long, languid kiss. "Thank you."