Все главы Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele: Глава 141 - Глава 150

[Cordelia]I am grateful for Atlas' company as he guides me down the long hallways to where we both plan to get tested as potential donors. I hold onto his arm tightly as I explain to him how I've been deathly afraid of needles since our car accident 5 years ago. "I know I got off easy," I acknowledge, "I wasn't the one in a coma, Angelica was. But I had gotten knocked around bad enough to need a couple of days in the hospital.""I remember," Atlas looks like his mind is far away, his eyes unfocused as he stares in front of him. "I was there too. I," he looks at me sadly. "I visited both of you. Even though you had been the one driving, and even though I was so angry at you, I still..." he pauses. "I still felt this need to keep you safe, to protect you.""An annoying trait you still haven't outgrown," I try to joke, to help ease the tension.But it doesn't go the way I had hoped. Both Atlas and I are still too overwhelmed with the tragic nostalgia of shared grief and past trauma to f

[Cordelia]The four of us rush towards Angelica's room. A thousand different scenarios are playing in my head as we all skid around the corner, none of them prepare us for what we find when we make it to her room. Her machines are fine. She's exactly as she was. The person in the bed next to her is the one who is in dire need. The nurses in the room create a barrier between us and the other patient by pulling a long, wide curtain in the space between the two beds, but not fast enough for me to miss seeing the body in the bed convulsing as the patient struggles to breathe around a tube that was keeping them alive.The curtain isn't enough to protect us from the sounds of the doctors and nurses working frantically to stop the patient from seizing, nor does it stop us from hearing them say "critical condition," or "they are going flatline!" "Dear God," Atlas says under his breath pulling me in tighter. We all turn to look at Angelica. We had all thought it was her. At that moment we

[Cordelia]Atlas is looking up at me with so much fear, so much longing. My mouth goes dry as he takes my hand and gently kisses it.From within his car, he pulls out a small box. "This morning, before your mother called, I had texted Clark to bring me this."He opens a small green velvet box. Inside is a delicate ring of gorgeous gold filigree in an art-nouveau style. In the center is a smallish green emerald and two smaller diamonds."It was my grandmother's." He explains. "And before her, my great-grandmother's." He holds it up to me. "I know it isn't much, but in that era, it was in style to have a smaller gemstone. The ring is 100 years old and..."He's so nervous that he is rambling, waiting to be released from his one-knee torture of kneeling in the traditional position.The only thing is, he hasn't asked me "the question" and I don't want to answer in case I am wrong.What if he just wanted to apologize and be fancy while doing it? I don't want to presume."I wanted to have a

[Cordelia]Labor. The word hits me like a brick in the chest. "No," I argue. "I can't be in labor, It's too soon."Atlas squeezes my hand as he gently pats my back as the nurse explains that while a child can survive outside the womb at 24 weeks with a lot of intervention, the odds are not favorable. "I will consult with the obstetrician, who will also want to examine you," he looks over his computer at me while he types a few more notes. "But if I were you I'd be prepared to stay the night, maybe longer, for observation."The nurse leaves and my new obstetrician, Dr. Bennet enters. "Call me Susanna, please," she insists, her perfect chestnut curls bouncing as she does her examination."So good news or bad news," she asks with a chipper grin. I'd be annoyed if she wasn't so genuine and cute.I can't decide what I want to hear first, so she chooses for me. "Well, the good news is, you are very healthy and your baby looks healthy."Okay, that doesn't sound bad at all. "And the bad ne

When I open my eyes, I find myself blinking as sunlight streaks through the open door. "Oh good," he smiles. "You're awake. I..." he looks down at his hands, suddenly nervous. "I have something I want to show you.""How long was I asleep?" I ask meekly as I rub my eyes, Atlas leading me down a gravel road. "Where are we? This isn't the estate."The Steele Family estate is nestled in the heights above Beverly Hills. We are nowhere near that now. "I told you I was taking you home," he grins up at me through his lashes, his fingers interlaced with mine. Lately, the Atlas Steele I've seen has been more shy than confident. Could it be that his confidence hides an inner fear of rejection? "I wanted to wait until I received your answer...but I also can't wait to show you this place. I...I hope you like it.""What is this about, Atlas," I query as the driveway bends around and empties into a beautiful garden of roses and jasmine and other flowers in bright colors, the whole space glowing wi