Shadows of the Past, page 11
part #1 of Echoes of Camano Island Series
Blake’s heart raced as she stared at him with bated breath. She hoped he wasn’t about to ask what she thought he was. She thought her cordial demeanor would have given him a clear indication she wasn’t interested in anything else, outside of a professional relationship. That way, she could prevent any misunderstandings.
“Since the housewarming party, there’s been a... shift in the way you interact with me. Have I done something to offend you, or…” He trailed off, searching her face for clues, his gray eyes pooling with concern.
Blake took a deep breath, her hands wrapped around her coffee for comfort. She watched the tendrils of steam rise and dissipate before speaking. “Ken, it's not about something you did. I'm just... I have this habit of building walls. It’s a sort of defense mechanism when I sense things might spiral beyond my control.”
Ken frowned slightly; his confusion apparent in the slight crease between his brows. “I’m not following. If I haven’t stepped out of line, why would you feel the need to... guard yourself? Is there something about our interactions that makes you uncomfortable?”
Blake’s fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup, her touch light, almost hesitant. She drew a slow breath, her gaze lifting to meet Ken’s expectant eyes. “It’s not you, it’s... it’s me,” she began, her voice barely louder than the hum of the coffee shop around them.
Ken’s expression softened, an unspoken encouragement for her to continue. He waited, patient and silent, as she gathered the threads of her thoughts.
Blake swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I’ve been married… twice,” she confessed. The first words of her past relationships hung in the air, heavy with unspoken sorrow. “The first ended in tragedy—my partner passed away.” Her voice trembled, betraying the pain she had tucked away. “And the second...” She paused, her gaze flickering with old wounds. “It ended badly. I’m cautious around... any relationships or friendships that might evolve into something... more.” The vulnerability in her blue eyes was palpable, a clear window into her soul.
She looked away from Ken, her gaze dropping to her cup once more. "I just don't think I can handle the possibility of another heartbreak," she murmured, her words barely a whisper, lost amid the froth of her coffee.
“I understand, Blake,” Ken said, his voice carrying a gentle assurance. “And I’m truly sorry to hear you’ve had to endure such hardships. I want you to know, I’m not trying to push for anything beyond friendship.” He leaned forward slightly, his demeanor earnest and open. "In the time I've gotten to know you, I’ve come to value you as both a colleague and a friend. My hope is that we can move beyond this awkwardness and this tension. You mean a lot to the team and to me, in more ways than one.”
A weight seemed to lift off Blake’s shoulders as she met Ken’s gaze. “Thank you, Ken. I appreciate your understanding.” A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of warmth returning to her eyes. “I would like to be friends.”
Ken returned her smile, relief evident in his features. “Great. Friends it is, then.” They returned to sipping their coffee, but this time, they were in companionable silence.
“I was once on the fast track, you know?”
Blake lifted her head to look at Ken. His gaze held a distant look. “A big shot lawyer back in Boston, handling high-profile cases, living the life everyone thought I wanted.”
Blake sipped her coffee, her eyes never leaving Ken’s face as he continued.
“But one day, I just... walked away from it all. I hung up my suit, traded the courtroom for a kitchen, and never looked back.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I became a restaurant owner and chef. You should’ve seen the look on my parents’ faces.”
“I can imagine,” Blake replied as they shared a small laugh.
Ken’s expression turned more serious. “My fiancée at the time, we’d been together for three years. She couldn’t understand why I’d throw everything away. We split not long after I made the decision.” He looked down, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with his finger. “My family, they thought I was losing my mind. Joked about committing me to an asylum.”
Blake, moved by his story, reached out instinctively and placed a comforting hand on his arm. She knew the implications of that action, but she’d worry about it later. For now, it felt like the right thing to do—for a friend.
“It’s been fifteen years,” Ken said, looking up to meet her eyes with a mixture of pain and resolve. “And my family still barely talks to me.”
His smile returned as he glanced at her hand on his arm, a silent thank you for her empathy. It was then that his phone rang, shattering the moment.
Ken excused himself for a second to answer the call. Blake watched as his face transitioned from calm to urgency. “Sarah’s what?” he practically shouted into the phone. “I’m on my way!”
He ended the call abruptly, his eyes wide with panic. “I’ve got to get to the hospital. Sarah’s in the hospital.”
Blake didn’t hesitate. “I’ll come with you.”
As they hurried to the hospital, Ken was on his phone once more, this time trying to reach Paul. “Paul, it’s Ken. I’m not sure if anyone’s gotten to you yet. Sarah’s in the hospital, man. I’ll keep you posted.” He glanced over at Blake, who was staring at him with concern. “I got his voicemail,” he told her.
“I’m sure he’ll hear it and get in contact,” Blake tried to reassure him. Ken nodded.
Blake could see the nervous energy radiating off of Ken as he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, each beat a testament to his concern for Sarah. The hospital came into view, and they found their way to the maternity ward.
“Trish, how is she?” Ken asked as soon as they spotted the woman anxiously pacing the waiting room.
Trish rushed over, and the two shared a quick hug. “I don’t know. No one will tell us anything,” she said, her voice cracking with worry. “I just can’t believe this is happening.” She sighed.
“Me either,” Ken agreed, his hands clenched by his sides.
“Blake. Hi.” Trish looked around Ken, surprised to see Blake standing by the wall close to the door.
“Hi, Trish. I was with Ken when he got the call,” she explained. “I just wanted to be here to offer support.”
Trish’s lips turned up in an appreciative smile. “I’m glad you came,” she spoke with sincerity.
Blake clasped the hand she stretched toward her and squeezed it comfortingly.
“Did you get through to Paul and Nikki? Their phones were going to voicemail,” Ken’s voice cut in.
Trish turned back to him. “I did. They’re probably on a plane by now. That would explain them not getting your calls.”
“Okay,” Ken replied.
The waiting room gradually began filling up with friends and family, and the atmosphere became thick with anticipation. The buzz of conversation among the gathered friends and family was punctuated by the occasional beep of medical equipment from down the hall. Ken paced back and forth, occasionally stopping to peer through the windows into the maternity ward, while Blake remained seated, watching him with concern etched in her features.
Then, the door to the waiting area opened a few hours later, and a man in scrubs stepped into the room. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him.
“Aaron. How are they?” Amy, Trish’s daughter, broke the tense silence to ask.
“The baby’s been born,” Aaron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency that immediately set the room on edge. “But she was rushed to the NICU. Her lungs were compromised; there was fluid in them.” His voice cracked at the end of his reporting the situation.
A collective gasp filled the room.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry, Aaron,” Trish said comfortingly. “But I’m hopeful everything will be okay.”
All Aaron could do was nod his head in agreement. “The doctors are doing everything they can to stabilize her condition,” he managed to get out.
“How is Sarah?” Ken asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“She’s asleep. The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, but the doctors say she’ll be okay,” Aaron replied.
There were collective sighs of relief for that one bit of good news.
“I have to get back in there in case she wakes up,” Aaron said, looking toward the ward once more.
“Okay,” Trish replied. “Just keep us posted. Nikki and Paul are on their way.”
Aaron nodded before heading back.
Ken released a heavy sigh. “How could this have happened?” he asked no one in particular.
Blake rose from her seat, her own heart aching with the news. The pain in Aaron’s words mirrored a memory buried deep within her—a memory of loss and the sharp sting of fear. She moved closer to Ken, her hand finding his arm once more, offering a silent strength.
Ken’s distress was palpable, the joy of birth overshadowed by the worry for Sarah and her newborn. Blake could see the turmoil behind his eyes, the fear threatening to overwhelm him.
“Sarah’s going to be okay. She’s going to need you to be strong,” Blake said, her voice soft but firm. “And that little girl in there, she’s going to need her uncle Ken to be a rock too.”
Ken nodded, his eyes meeting Blake’s. In them, she could see the gratitude for her presence.
The minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last, as they waited for updates.
Blake remained by Ken’s side, trying to offer as much comfort as she could give.
The doors opened again, and everyone stepped up when Aaron walked out. “Sarah’s awake,” he informed them.
Chapter Sixteen
Sarah lay in her hospital bed, her mind heavy with guilt and sorrow. The events of the past two days replayed in her mind like a cruel movie she couldn’t escape. Rushing to Sienna’s hospital room only to see her flatlining, going into labor early, her baby being born premature and being in the NICU fighting for her little life... it all weighed on her heart, threatening to suffocate her with its unbearable weight.
“I should have been more careful,” she whispered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. “I should have protected my baby…”
The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest like a lead blanket, suffocating her with its unbearable heaviness. The guilt gnawed at her; a relentless beast that refused to be tamed.
The door creaked open. Sarah looked toward it, just as her father and Nikki walked in.
“Dad,” she breathed out, her voice hoarse from all the crying she had been doing.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Paul said comfortingly as he walked over to bundle her up in his arms. Sarah released a guttural cry as she clung tightly to him. “I know, I know,” he spoke soothingly as he gently cradled her head against his chest.
“Everything is going so wrong, and it’s, it’s all my fault,” Sarah sobbed.
“Hey, hey…” Paul pulled back and held her face in his palms as he stared seriously into her eyes. “None of this is your fault… you hear me?” The conviction in his voice made her want to believe him, but…
“But it is,” she sniffled. “If I hadn’t been so adamant to see Sienna, none of this would have happened,” she returned.
“I understand why you would think that way, but I repeat, it is not your fault.”
“He’s right, Sarah,” Nikki, who had remained on the other side of the room all along, spoke up, “You couldn’t have seen this coming, and it could have happened anywhere. We’re just happy it was at the hospital where something could have been done about it.” She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress beside her husband.
Nikki held Sarah’s hand as she continued, “We’re here for you. We love you, and we're going to get through this together.”
Sarah nodded, unable to speak as tears streamed down her cheeks.
Just then, Aaron entered the room, his eyes tired but filled with determination. He had been spending every spare moment at the NICU, watching over their fragile baby.
“Paul, Nikki, you’re here,” he spoke, the relief evident in his voice as he walked over to them.
“We would have been here earlier, but we couldn’t get a flight from Amsterdam until the following day. We came here straight from the airport,” Paul explained. “How is she?” he asked just then.
Aaron released a heavy sigh. “She’s stable now. She’s on a ventilator until her lungs can develop the capacity to breathe on their own, and they want to run a few more tests to make sure there aren’t any heart defects or brain damage.” His eyes cast down as his shoulders sagged in defeat. Sarah’s emotions clogged her throat as she watched him.
Aaron's gaze lingered on the floor, a clear sign of his inner turmoil. But it also felt like an invisible chasm was widening between them.
“You’ve been amazing, Aaron,” Paul said, his voice steady and appreciative. “We know you’re doing everything, being everywhere at once.”
Aaron finally lifted his eyes, offering a strained smile. “It’s not about me, Paul. It’s about Sarah and our little girl. They’re all that matters.”
Nikki reached out; her touch gentle on Aaron’s arm. “And you’re both doing everything you can. That’s more than enough.”
The room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words pressing upon them all. Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat as she watched Aaron’s eyes dart around the room, and his gaze avoided hers. The message was clear, even without words: He was struggling to keep blame at bay.
“I’m going to grab some coffee,” Aaron said abruptly, his voice hollow. “Could use some air.”
Paul nodded, glancing at Nikki before following Aaron out. Sarah felt her heart pound, each beat echoing her fears. She knew Aaron needed to talk, to vent the frustration and helplessness that he wouldn’t dare show her.
She felt Nikki squeeze her hand, and she looked up to see her concerned eyes staring back at her. “You have to stop blaming yourself. It isn’t your fault. You just need to focus on getting strong for your baby. She’s going to need you when she comes home,” she encouraged.
All Sarah could muster was a single nod.
“We’re all here for you. Remember that.” Nikki left the room shortly after.
Alone in the sterile hospital room, Sarah turned her head away, her gaze falling on the pastel walls devoid of warmth. The door clicked open again, and Amy slipped inside.
“Amy,” Sarah whispered, her voice quivering with vulnerability.
“Hi, Sarah,” Amy smiled, taking a seat beside her, their hands entwining. “Everyone’s pulling for you and the baby, you know. So, we need you to pull for yourself as well. It’s not your fault. None of it is.”
Sarah released a defeated sound. “Aaron thinks it is... he won’t even look at me, Amy. He says it’s not my fault, but his eyes... they don’t lie.”
Amy squeezed her hand, her eyes filled with empathy. “He’s scared, Sarah. He doesn’t blame you; he’s just afraid of losing you both.”
“But I haven’t even gone to see her, even though the doctors cleared me enough to go to the NICU,” she spoke softly, her voice laced with guilt.
“Sarah,” Amy said sympathetically.
“I just… I can’t bring myself to…” She looked up at Amy, the fear in her eyes palpable.
“You need to see her, Sarah… touch her…speak to her. She needs her mother,” Amy implored.
“I know, but it feels like if I go see her, then all of this is no longer a dream, and she’s actually here battling for her life.”
“It’s a risk you’ll have to take for both of your sakes,” Amy encouraged.
“Have you... heard anything about Sienna?” Sarah asked, changing the subject.
Amy hesitated, the lines on her face deepening with concern, and she hesitated to speak.
“Amy, please… tell me.”
Amy relented. “They’ve got her on life support. She’s fighting, Sarah, just like your little girl.”
Sarah’s breath caught, her tears an endless river. Sienna, the sweet girl, clinging to life. It was too much.
Her world crumbled around her.
As the days passed, Sarah struggled to find solace in the familiar surroundings of her home. Every corner seemed to echo with the absence of their newborn daughter, a reminder of the fragile life hanging in the balance at the hospital.
Aaron’s attempts at reassurance fell short of reaching the depths of Sarah’s guilt. His words, though well-intentioned, felt like fragile threads in the vast web of emotions entangling her.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the living room, Aaron broached the subject once more.
“Sarah, I know it’s hard, but you have to see her.” Aaron’s voice was gentle, tinged with a plea. “She’s our daughter, and she needs you.”
Sarah turned away; her gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. “I can’t, Aaron. Every time I close my eyes, I see Sienna flatlining, and I hear her labored breaths. I can’t… bear to face our baby, knowing it was my actions that put her in this position."
Aaron knelt beside her, his hand reaching for hers. “Sarah, what happened was a terrible twist of fate. You couldn’t have known. Please, come with me tomorrow. Just a quick visit. For her.”
Tears welled up in Sarah’s eyes, her heart torn between the desire to see her daughter and the weight of her guilt holding her back. “I’ll try, Aaron. For you.”
The following day, as they approached the hospital, Sarah’s steps faltered, her breaths shallow and uneven. Aaron placed a hand on her back, reminding her of his presence and willing her to move forward. But it wasn’t enough.
“I can’t do this, Aaron,” Sarah whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.
“You can, Sarah. You’re stronger than you think.” Aaron’s words were a gentle push, urging her forward.
They stood outside the NICU, the soft hum of machines and the distant murmur of voices seeping through the closed doors. Aaron glanced at Sarah, his eyes filled with a mix of understanding and longing.
