FORTY-FOUR.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR - Luther.



The shock was something I had always heard people talk about. I have never really faced it as a person, not even when I made my first billion or when Reese told us about our baby.

But in these moments, when I saw Reese 's car run into the truck and catch fire, my legs hit the brake so hard that I almost bumped into a car. I ran out with all my strength towards the car, I could already hear the faint siren of an ambulance and a firefighter. I held my breath as people took out Reese 's limp body from the car. The body was soaked in blood, and the deep wound on her kept gushing out blood. Seeing her in that state, It was like my whole heart crashed along with her car. I was breathless, I couldn't make out any words. I was in a trance. I ran towards them and lifted her in my arms, she weighs more now that she is unconscious.

“Reese . . .” I whispered, trying to get close to her, but I was held back by a group of paramedics.

“Who are you, Sir?” One of the Ambulance staff asked.

“Her baby father.” I whispered. I was led into the ambulance, where Reese was immediately secured in an oxygen tank. That was all I could see before they dragged the safety curtains.

As we rode into Manhattan specialist hospital, nurses and doctors were already at the door waiting. Reese was placed on a stretcher and rolled into the operating room. I watched as the indicator chimed red.

How on earth did this happen? Someone I had a conversation with barely ten minutes ago. When Reese left my office, I was running after her to tell her not to ride in that mood. She was angry at me and mostly at Petra.

I got to the car lot and she already started her car. I trailed her with mine closely behind, before her break began to malfunction. I could see how worried her face looked in her side mirror. Before I could process everything she ran into the truck. The door leading to the operating room flew open, I walked to the doctor at the same time and asked him.

“Will she be okay, doctor? How are my babies?” I inquired crazily.

“Sir, your wife is in a critical condition,” he paused, using his hands to caress his hair. In normal circumstances, I would have volunteered to pay for his haircut. “We need to get the babies out of here right now, a c-section is needed.” He emphasized making me stare in horror.

“She's just seven months long.” I shrieked. The doctor looked exhausted as a nurse rushed to meet us.

“Doctor, she is running out of blood,” she breathed. “A message has already been sent to the blood bank, we need to carry out the operation now.” she pressed.

Pain and heartbreak was the only thing I felt when I signed her C-section papers. The doctor squeezed my shoulders as they ran back to start her operation. I couldn't remember the last time I prayed. I was neither an atheist nor a theist. At this moment I knelt before the operation theater and cried my eyes out.

I wept and cried for his intervention. I was hopeless, I didn't know what to do but to sit down and wait. Time became my greatest enemy, it slowed down, perhaps because I kept looking at the wall clock. It was over six out with Reese in there fighting for her liver and that of our babies.

I couldn't help but to cry and feel extremely tired of her. Reese, at this early age, has become a body bag of pain. I have never admired a woman more than I did for Reese.

After two more hours, the doctor came out and I sprang up to meet him at once. But he said the conversation was best held in this office. My heart dropped, this is the part I had always hated about hospitals. The part where doctors always lead you towards their offices to give you one bad news or the other. I hated the moment. But I have hated everything that has happened in the last hour. So I followed closely behind him

He pushed the door open, and he settled on his seat, rubbing his temple. One could see the dark circle hitched under his eyes.

“Mr. Samuel,” he called. I briefly looked at him, I kept tapping my foot on the floor, the suspense was killing me. “Your wife had twins,” he announced, before relief could wash over me he proceeded. “Sadly, we lost one, the other one is currently in an incubator, a place for premature birth,” he pronounced.

I sat down stiffly like I would break if I moved. We lost one of our babies due to an accident. “What about Reese ?” I whispered, I realized I had lost my voice from crying and praying.

He stared at me long and hard before he replied. “She's currently in a coma,” he said. “There's a high possibility she might have amnesia when she wakes up, but when she's going to wake up is what I don't know. Her head was badly hurt,” he revealed.

If I had thought I felt pain before, it was nothing compared to what I felt at the moment. I felt my heartburn tears glistening in my eyes again. Right at the doctor's office, I broke down. I cried for the loss of our child, I cried for Reese 's memory and I cried for my surviving children who also needed to battle for the breath of life. The doctor excused himself as I bawled my eyes out. I walked outside to see him discussing nurses from before.

“Who do you want to see first, mother or your children?” he inquired. I thought of going to see Reese first, but she won't like anything to be chosen over her baby. So I decided to see the baby first.

We walked quickly into a large hall lined with electric boxes. Boxes that contain babies, we walked further into another room which I found out was the intensive care unit for premature borns.

I was led to a box at the end, a tag boldly written 'Reese ' stood out. Our baby looked so tiny and helpless. Having so many machines connected to her incubator broke my heart. She was so small, probably the size of a bean. I touched the glass box. I couldn't touch her, she looked pale and sick. I dreaded this day.

I left for Reese 's ward afterwards, she also, like her children, was connected to all sorts of machines. Her head was wrapped in a white bandage, chapped lips and pale face. She was breathing with the help of oxygen. Her stomach has flattened down. Her hand was wrapped in a bandage too. With one place on her ankle, I knew she sprained it.

All these were too much, the emotions, the pain I couldn't bear. I needed someone. I decided to call Dave. I told him Reese had a twin and I was in the hospital. He said he was going to drop everything he was doing and come meet me. Dave came in shortly afterwards. I couldn't talk, I was just staring into space. All he did was squeeze my shoulder blade, and we were good in comfortable silence.

“You need to eat man,” He advised. “And freshen up too. You have got a baby to take care of, two of them, you need to be clean at all costs.” He reprimanded. “You smell like shit.” He concluded, which got him a glare from me but he grinned.

The doctor said I could go home and freshen up. He said the baby was being taken care of by a special nurse.

So I rode home to take a bath. Under the shower, I washed every stain of blood from my body, but I couldn't wash my guilt. Maybe if I hadn't forced Reese to come back to Manhattan, perhaps she might have been okay. Everything happened in less than ten minutes. Her anger, the ride, the crash. One could think of the cold water. Running through my spine will help ease how I feel.

I came out fully dressed, Clad in jeans and a pair of T-Shirts. I knew I needed to call someone other than Dave, but I haven't gotten the courage to call Regina. They were so happy to see each other this morning. I couldn't even bring myself to think about how her parents would react. This was tougher than it seemed. I sighed for the umpteenth time. I took a bottle of Andre Rose and gulped down hungrily, maybe alcohol would help me ease the way I felt. I took my anxiety pills alongside the alcoholic drink, Images of Reese were what I saw last before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, I woke up feeling worse, I had dreamt of a woman battling death in the hospital, the same hospital my day old children were fighting for life in.

And now I have a hangover.

Alcohol didn't make you forget things, reality hit me again immediately I opened my eyes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror long and hard. I already placed a call at the office to tell them about my sudden break. I couldn't tell them about Reese . I have never felt so hopeless before, I was being thrown between what was right and what was wrong.

I realized I wasn't making decisions for myself but my decisions would affect the baby and Reese . I need to let somebody know, I concluded. I picked up my phone and dialed Regina. I told her to take the day off. And meet me at the car slot at ten.
When I got to the car pack Regina was already waiting.

“What happened?'' she implored. I knew she was shocked to meet me here.

“I'm taking you to the hospital.” I voiced.

“Is it Reese ?” she questioned. “We still have about two months before the arrival of the baby.” She mumbled. I kept driving gently, not looking at her. I watched her bring out her phone and dial Reese 's contact but it Rang on my dashboard. Now she was fully confused, but she kept quiet.

When we got to the hospital I quietly led her toward Reese 's room. Her feet patted the floor noiselessly like I would kill her if she made a noise. We got to the door, I tried to read her expression, Iand breathed in before opening the door. She stepped in after me, and her jaw dropped. In three minutes she let out an ear-deafening scream and fell unconscious.

With another limp body, I grimaced.



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