The smell of antiseptics mingled with the faint scent of medication and blood as Rosaline slowly opened her eyes.
She shifted slightly on the hospital bed, only to be met with an unbearable pain in her abdomen. A weak groan escaped her lips as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.
Had she delivered her baby?
Her hand trembled as she reached for her stomach, startled by how much smaller it felt. Before she could touch it, another hand gently caught hers.
Someone was saying something to her. She could hear the voice, but her mind felt foggy, as though she were struggling to emerge from a deep sleep. The words reached her ears without making much sense.
Her baby.
She needed to know about her baby.
Then she recognised the familiar voice.
"Shaan..." she whispered weakly.
Her speech was slurred, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.
Something was wrong. She could feel it.
Had something terrible happened to her baby?
"Ros... Are you okay? How are you feeling?" Shaan asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Her eyes shifted towards him.
"The baby..." A lump rose in her throat, making it difficult to speak. "Where... is she?"
He answered her, but she couldn't seem to process his words. Her mind was too overwhelmed, too frightened to understand anything beyond the terrible possibility that something might have happened to their daughter.
She's fine, she tried to convince herself.
She's alive. There's nothing a little time in an incubator can't fix.
Babies were born earlier than expected all the time. They survived. They grew up. They went home with their parents.
Her baby would be fine, too.
Wouldn't she?
The uncertainty became too much to bear. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she struggled to contain the fear building inside her.
Shaan moved closer and gently patted her arm, murmuring words of comfort. He stayed beside her, allowing her to cry until the worst of her distress had passed.
When she finally began to settle, he helped her sit a little more comfortably and handed her a glass of water.
She took a few small sips before looking at him again.
"How long was I unconscious for?" she asked, sniffing.
"A few hours since you woke up last."
Rosaline frowned weakly.
"I was awake?"
"Yeah. When we first arrived at the hospital."
"What..." She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "What about our baby?"
Shaan looked away briefly.
"They're monitoring her for now."
"And my mom?"
"Sean took her back to the house. She needed to rest."
Rosaline stared down at the glass in her hands. Her fingers tightened around it as the silence between them grew heavier.
She could feel Shaan avoiding something. He was trying to appear calm, but there was something in his eyes that frightened her more than anything he could say.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.
"Where is our baby?"
Her eyes filled with tears again.
Shaan blinked rapidly, fighting to hold back his own tears. He bit his lower lip before swallowing hard.
"She's fine," he said quietly. "She's alive, Ros. She's alive."
"But is she healthy?"
He hesitated.
"She's being taken care of."
That wasn't an answer.
Before Rosaline could press him further, the door opened, and a nurse walked into the ward.
"Good evening, ma'am. How are you feeling now?" she asked with a gentle smile.
"I feel okay," Rosaline replied, although the pain in her abdomen was far from comfortable.
The nurse asked whether she had experienced any unusual discomfort, checked her vital signs and examined the IV line attached to her hand.
"The doctor will be here soon to check on you again," she assured her before leaving the ward.
Rosaline watched the door close.
She turned to Shaan, but he was already looking at her.
"Can you please get me something to eat?" she asked softly. "I'm hungry."
He nodded.
"Of course. I'll be right back."
He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her forehead and left the ward.
For a moment, Rosaline sat in silence.
She wasn't hungry, how could she be?
She couldn't shake the feeling that Shaan was hiding something from her and he wasn't going to tell her so she had to ask the doctor.
A minute later, the doctor arrived.
He greeted her, reviewed her condition and conducted a brief examination before giving her a reassuring nod.
"You're recovering well," he said. "You'll need to take things slowly for now. Try to eat light meals initially, and let the nurses know if your pain becomes worse or you experience any unusual symptoms."
"Thank you, Doctor. I will."
He was about to leave when Rosaline called out to him.
"Um, Doctor?"
He turned back.
"Yes?"
She hesitated, suddenly afraid of the answer she had been waiting for.
"It's about my baby. How is she?"
The doctor pulled a chair closer to her bed and sat down.
"Your daughter was born a little earlier than expected," he explained gently. "She's around five weeks short of her due date, so although she's developed considerably, she still needs a little help adjusting to life outside the womb."
Rosaline's fingers curled around the bedsheet.
"What do you mean?"
"She's experiencing some breathing difficulties. Her lungs are still maturing, and she's breathing faster than we'd like. We've admitted her to the neonatal unit, where the team can monitor her closely and give her oxygen support if she needs it."
Rosaline stared at him.
"Is she going to be okay?"
The doctor offered her a reassuring look.
"At the moment, she's stable. She's receiving the care she needs, and we're monitoring her breathing, temperature and feeding. Babies born at this stage often do well, but some need extra support before they're ready to go home."
"Can I see her?"
"Of course. Once you're feeling well enough, we'll arrange for you to visit her in the neonatal unit. The nurses will explain everything you need to know."
Rosaline swallowed, trying to hold back the tears gathering in her eyes.
"Can I hold her?"
The doctor paused briefly.
"We'll need to see how she's doing and what kind of respiratory support she's receiving. If she's stable enough, the neonatal team may be able to help you have some skin-to-skin contact with her. Even if you can't hold her immediately, you can still speak to her and be close to her."
Rosaline nodded, though her heart ached.
She had imagined holding her daughter against her chest, kissing her tiny face and whispering all the things she had wanted to tell her throughout her pregnancy.
Instead, her baby was somewhere else, surrounded by machines and strangers.
"Will she have to stay here for long?" she asked quietly.
"It depends on how quickly she progresses," the doctor explained. "We'll want to see her breathing comfortably, maintaining her temperature and feeding well before considering discharge. For now, the important thing is that she continues to improve."
Rosaline wiped a tear from her cheek.
"Okay."
"I know this isn't how you imagined things would be," he said gently. "But your daughter is receiving the care she needs. We'll keep you informed about her progress."
"Thank you, Doctor."
He gave her one final reassuring nod before leaving the ward.
Rosaline sank back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.
Her baby was alive.
She was stable.
And yet, Rosaline couldn't stop worrying.
She had carried her daughter for months, imagining the moment she would finally meet her. She had thought about the tiny fingers that would wrap around hers, the little cries that would fill their home and the face she would search for familiar features in.
She hadn't imagined spending their first hours apart.
She hadn't imagined having to wait for permission to hold her own child.
A quiet sob escaped her lips.
"Please get better soon, baby girl," she whispered, placing a trembling hand over her abdomen. "Mummy wants to see you."
And for the first time since waking up, Rosaline allowed herself to cry—not because she believed her daughter was going to die, but because she couldn't bear the thought of her little girl struggling when all she wanted was to hold her close and protect her from the world.
A few minutes after the doctor left, Shaan returned to the room with a paper takeout bag in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
He placed them on the small table beside her bed before unpacking the food.
"I ordered chicken noodle soup, some toast, and a fruit cup," he said, pulling out the containers. "I wasn't sure what you'd feel like eating, so I got everything i thought you'd like."
Rosy managed a small smile. "Thank you."
He arranged everything within her reach, then pulled his chair closer to the bed.
"Have you eaten anything since you woke up?"
"Not really."
"Then you should eat a little."
She picked up the spoon and took a few mouthfuls of soup. It was warm and comforting, but her mind kept wandering back to the tiny baby in the neonatal unit.
"Shaan?"
He looked up immediately. "Hmm?"
"The doctor said she's stable, but she's having trouble breathing on her own." Her voice wavered. "They said she'll need some help until her lungs are stronger."
Shaan nodded slowly.
"I'm scared."
He reached for her free hand, threading his fingers through hers.
"Me too, Rosy."
She looked at him. Shaan rarely admitted to being afraid, and seeing the worry in his eyes made her own tears threaten to spill.
"But she's fighting," he continued, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "She's our little girl. We'll give her all the time she needs."
Rosy nodded, although the knot in her chest remained.
A soft knock interrupted them.
Before either could respond, the door opened, and Noura walked in with Abeer and Majed, he was carrying Kayid.
"Rose, darling!"
Noura hurried towards the bed, but Rosy's attention had already settled on the little boy in Majed's arm.
"oh, honey"
The words escaped her in a broken whisper.
She held out her arms immediately. He reached out as well, and Majed let him down.
Kayid toddled towards her, and she carefully gathered him into her embrace, mindful of the pain in her abdomen.
The moment she felt his little arms wrap around her neck, Rosy broke down.
"Oh, my baby."
She buried her face against him, crying harder than she'd intended to. Kayid wriggled in her arms, reaching up to touch her cheek with his tiny hand.
She'd missed him terribly. Between the hospital, the pain, and the fear surrounding their newborn daughter, she'd barely had a moment to think about anything else. Now that he was in her arms, all the emotions she'd been trying to hold back came rushing out.
Kayid pulled away slightly, looking at her with wide, confused eyes.
"Mama?"
That only made her cry harder.
"I'm here, baby." She kissed his cheek repeatedly. "Mommy's right here."
Noura reached the bedside and gently wrapped her arms around Rosy and Kayid.
"It's alright...." she murmured, stroking Rosy's hair. ".....Ibki ya habibti, la taktimin"
Rosy leaned into her, grateful for the comfort. She was exhausted, frightened, and sore, but for the first time since waking up, she didn't feel as though she had to hold herself together.
Across the room, Abeer noticed Shaan standing unusually still beside the chair.
His eyes were red, and he kept looking away as though he could hide it.
Abeer's expression softened.
Without saying anything, she walked over and wrapped her arms around her brother.
Shaan let out a shaky breath, his composure finally slipping.
He had been holding himself together for Rosaline's sake, swallowing his fear and pretending he was stronger than he felt.
Majed joined them a moment later, placing a reassuring hand on Shaan's shoulder before pulling him into a proper hug.
For a few moments, none of them said anything.
There were no promises that everything would be fine. No one could guarantee that.
But they were there for one another, and for now, that was enough.
Rosy held Kayid a little closer, resting her cheek against his hair while Noura continued to comfort her.
His sister was still in the neonatal unit, fighting to breathe on her own.
And although the fear hadn't disappeared, Rosy knew she wouldn't have to face it alone.
**. **. **.
Catherine watched from a distance as Beatrice, Gina, Keisha, and Zoe made their way towards the hospital entrance.
The four women had come bearing food for Sean and Rosaline, along with a few other things Rosaline might need during her stay. There were bags of clothes, toiletries, and other necessities that they'd gathered before leaving for the hospital.
Catherine watched them for a moment before glancing towards the car.
The others were still busy taking things out of the trunk.
It would be a while before they finished.
She could wait.
Or she could go inside.
Her gaze returned to the hospital entrance.
With a quiet sigh, Catherine turned and headed towards the building, leaving the others behind.
She told herself she only wanted to see how Rosaline was doing.
Nothing more.
---
The moment Catherine entered the ward, she slowed.
Rosaline was sitting up in bed, looking exhausted. She had Kayid beside her, and Noura was close enough to reach out and comfort her whenever she needed it.
Shaan sat nearby, his attention divided between his wife and the little boy in her arms.
There was something painfully ordinary about the scene.
A family.
A mother holding her child. A husband staying beside his wife. People coming together to help them through a difficult time.
And yet, it was precisely the sort of thing Catherine had spent so long trying to tear apart.
She stood near the doorway, watching them.
She didn't know how long she'd been standing there when the thought finally came to her.
Why do I hate them so much?
The question unsettled her.
She had always had an answer ready whenever someone questioned her behaviour. She could list every slight, every disappointment, every reason she believed she had been wronged.
But standing there, watching Rosaline lean into Noura's embrace, none of those answers seemed sufficient.
What had Rosaline ever done to deserve the depth of her hatred?
And the others?
Why had she made enemies of a family that was simply trying to live their lives?
Catherine looked away.
Perhaps the truth was that hating them had been easier than confronting herself.
As long as she had someone to blame, she didn't have to examine the choices she'd made. As long as she could convince herself that someone else was standing in her way, she didn't have to accept that some things were never hers to begin with.
Shaan.
Even thinking about his name hurt.
She had wanted him for so long that she'd allowed that desire to become something ugly. She'd held on to the hope that, somehow, things would change. That one day, he would look at her and see what she'd always wanted him to see.
But that day would never come.
Shaan was gone from her in the only way that mattered.
He would never be hers.
And no amount of resentment towards Rosaline would change that.
Catherine swallowed, her eyes drifting back to the couple.
Shaan was watching Rosaline with a tenderness that Catherine had once desperately wished would be directed at her.
Now, seeing it, she felt something she hadn't expected.
Not anger.
Not quite.
Just an ache.
She had spent so much time fighting for a place in his life that she had failed to recognise the life he had already chosen. A life she could never fit into, thinking back....she never loved him. She loved the safety that came with him.
And perhaps, deep down, she had known all along.
She simply hadn't wanted to accept it.
Her gaze lowered to the floor.
He was right.
The memory came back to her with uncomfortable clarity.
Shaan had told her that he made her.
At the time, she'd hated him for saying it. She'd taken his words as an insult, another reminder of how much power he had once held over her life.
But now, she wondered whether she'd misunderstood him.
He hadn't created the person she was. Her choices were still her own, and so were the consequences. Even she would've said anything to protect the ones she loved.
But God had used Shaan.
Through him, she had been given something she might never have found otherwise.
A second chance at life.
How could she have forgotten that?
How could she have taken the very thing that had given her another chance and used it as an excuse to become someone she no longer recognised?
Her throat tightened.
She wasn't suddenly a better person. She hadn't undone the things she'd done,she could never, and standing there wouldn't erase the pain she'd caused.
But for the first time in a long while, Catherine wasn't thinking about how to get Shaan back.
She was thinking about herself.
About the woman she had become.
And whether she could still choose to become someone better.
She took a slow breath.
You can't keep living like this.
Her eyes returned to Rosaline.
Catherine didn't know if she could ever be close to the woman. She didn't know if Rosaline would ever forgive her for the things she'd done, or if she even deserved forgiveness.
But perhaps that wasn't the point.
She couldn't keep using her feelings for Shaan to justify hurting everyone around him.
She couldn't keep blaming other people for a future that had never been promised to her.
And she couldn't keep pretending that the God who had given her another chance at life had done so merely for her to waste it.
Catherine pressed her lips together, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes.
You have to do better.
The words were quiet, but they settled heavily in her heart.
She looked at Shaan one last time.
Then at Rosaline.
For once, she didn't wish she were in Rosaline's place.
She only wished she had made different choices before things had gone so far.
Catherine turned towards the door, ready to go in, she paused.
No.
The moment wasn't about her, it was about them and their baby.
And she wasn't ready to apologise. Not yet. She didn't even know where she would begin. She'd have to be high on narcotics to apologize like a normal person.
But perhaps the first step wasn't asking anyone to forgive her.
Perhaps it was finally admitting that she had been wrong.
And then doing something about it.
She stepped out of the ward, carrying that uncomfortable truth with her.
You have to do better, Catherine.
And this time, she intended to try. But for the mean time.....it was back to crack.
Hell.
Maybe she'd even give old Gonzo a chance,then she'd be riding the highways for free. A lifetime supply of weed and love she would never need to reciprocate....what more could a woman, like herself,ask for?
She shifted her attention back to Rosaline's ward, they were lucky she had a change of heart.
"I'm the bigger person" she muttered to herself.
There was no use going in.... she'd finally let go, she needed something or someone to pour her energy into.
She scanned the hospital hallway for any vulnerable soul who might fall victim to her mean-girl antics.
Her eyes soon landed on a man in another ward, his leg suspended in a traction. She stepped into the ward. It was a shared room, and Catherine's gaze briefly landed on the other patient—a frail-looking old woman who appeared to be asleep.
Her attention shifted back to the man....he was practically wrapped in bandages all over.
"Gee.....what nasty turn of events in your life. Bet you never saw it coming."
"Nasty indeed, he wifey push him off them brenda (veranda)" The old woman suddenly sat up.
The man rolled his eyes, looking thoroughly exhausted by the fact that his ward mate was shamelessly broadcasting his personal business to a complete stranger.
Catherine was amused.
Finally, she'd found her niche.
"You don't say..... " She pulled up a chair, her interest piqued"....whatever for?"
"Glad you asked!"The old woman leaned forward conspiratorially "She loved him nay more. Wanted to get the insurance payout from his death and elope with her new man. And guess what?"
"What?" Catherine asked, genuinely curious.
"The new man finer than his broke ass" The old woman burst out laughing.
Catherine joined in.
For the first time in a long while, she laughed heartily, without restraint or a care in the world.
She was having a lot of firsts lately, and surprisingly, she didn't hate it.
She enjoyed their company so much that she ended up staying for a considerable amount of time. Somewhere along the way, she learned that the old woman's name was Penelope, though everyone called her Momo, while the man was Mark.
As for how Momo knew so much about Mark's marital woes?
She was his grandmother.
Catherine laughed even harder when she found that out.
What better cure for loneliness was there than other people's problem?