made passionate love, Evan insisted on using a condom because he didn’t want to harm a baby inside her—just in case. Even though it was supposedly safe.
The gentle touch of his soft hand on her shoulders sent shivers down her spine. Oh, she craved his touch. Evan had been more and more closer to her after she told him about the pregnancy result being positive. Only it wasn’t.
She was the one who was a positive.
A positive idiot!
She just couldn’t let this go on any further. First there was the documentary that everyone was looking forward to. She’d managed to avoid being filmed so far because of her ill feeling which she told them was her morning sickness and she didn’t want to appear pale on the video. Still, she was happy for her grandfather getting filmed periodically and getting a chance to tell his survival story to give others hope. And recently he’d been spending so much time with his PSW, Lina. They seemed to get on very, very well. She took him on excursions and out to the parks on most days. He rarely stayed indoors. It was so wonderful that he could spend his last days doing what he truly enjoyed.
“Evan,” Emma said in a low voice. “I have something I need to tell you. I should have told you before but I didn’t have the guts to.” Emma’s gaze was fixed on the beautiful acrylic crib that cost a fortune.
“What is it, baby?” Evan said, rubbing his nose on her neck again. She loved it when he did that. The freshness of his cologne turned her on. He hadn’t shaved in a little while, but she loved his five-o’clock’ bad-boy looking shadow. God, he was gorgeous.
“Evan, I—"
“Evan!” June ran up the stairs interrupting her discussion. “Evan!”
“Yes, June? I’m in the nursery.”
“Evan, the Dan Baker Center called. It’s your dad!”
“What? Is he okay?”
“You need to come quick!”
“Oh, God!” Emma cried out. “I hope he’s okay.”
Evan’s dark sexy eyes grew even darker. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he sprung to his feet. It was as if he knew something was terribly wrong.
“I’m going with you,” Emma said as she ran to grab her coat and handbag.
“No, you stay here, hon.”
“No, I’m going with you, Evan. I need to be by your side.”
Evan leaned in and hugged Emma. “I love you, baby. Always know that.”
“I know. And I love you, too.”
***
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Fletcher,” the nurse with the long black hair said with sorrow in her eyes. “The doctor will speak with you shortly.”
“When did he pass away?” Evan’s voice was trembling. He was crying. His head held down and his hand on his forehead. Emma sat there helpless, holding his shoulder as they both sat at the bedside of his father. His body was covered up in white sheet to the neck. A peaceful smile on his face. He lay stiff and flat on the bed. No signs of life.
When the doctor came in, he explained that old man Fletcher had what was called a PE. Pulmonary Embolism. Basically the culprit of his father’s demise was a blood clot that traveled from somewhere in the body through the blood stream up to the lung and blocked the main artery of the lung or one of the branches of the artery. Sometimes it was termed sudden death because it could happen so fast and nothing could be done about it when it happened. The doctor said that most likely he didn’t feel a thing. Evan had blown it then and asked the doctor how would he know what his dad felt? “Have you ever had a PE yourself?” he had asked the doctor. He later apologized after Emma squeezed his shoulder and rubbed his back trying to calm him.
“He’ll be taken down to the morgue soon. Have you made funeral arrangements?”
“Didn’t know he was going to die today.”
“Sorry, I meant sometimes when loved ones are terminally ill or chronically ill, the family makes arrangements ahead of time, just in case.”
“Honey, I can help you with that.”
“No, it’s okay, baby, you have
The gentle touch of his soft hand on her shoulders sent shivers down her spine. Oh, she craved his touch. Evan had been more and more closer to her after she told him about the pregnancy result being positive. Only it wasn’t.
She was the one who was a positive.
A positive idiot!
She just couldn’t let this go on any further. First there was the documentary that everyone was looking forward to. She’d managed to avoid being filmed so far because of her ill feeling which she told them was her morning sickness and she didn’t want to appear pale on the video. Still, she was happy for her grandfather getting filmed periodically and getting a chance to tell his survival story to give others hope. And recently he’d been spending so much time with his PSW, Lina. They seemed to get on very, very well. She took him on excursions and out to the parks on most days. He rarely stayed indoors. It was so wonderful that he could spend his last days doing what he truly enjoyed.
“Evan,” Emma said in a low voice. “I have something I need to tell you. I should have told you before but I didn’t have the guts to.” Emma’s gaze was fixed on the beautiful acrylic crib that cost a fortune.
“What is it, baby?” Evan said, rubbing his nose on her neck again. She loved it when he did that. The freshness of his cologne turned her on. He hadn’t shaved in a little while, but she loved his five-o’clock’ bad-boy looking shadow. God, he was gorgeous.
“Evan, I—"
“Evan!” June ran up the stairs interrupting her discussion. “Evan!”
“Yes, June? I’m in the nursery.”
“Evan, the Dan Baker Center called. It’s your dad!”
“What? Is he okay?”
“You need to come quick!”
“Oh, God!” Emma cried out. “I hope he’s okay.”
Evan’s dark sexy eyes grew even darker. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he sprung to his feet. It was as if he knew something was terribly wrong.
“I’m going with you,” Emma said as she ran to grab her coat and handbag.
“No, you stay here, hon.”
“No, I’m going with you, Evan. I need to be by your side.”
Evan leaned in and hugged Emma. “I love you, baby. Always know that.”
“I know. And I love you, too.”
***
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Fletcher,” the nurse with the long black hair said with sorrow in her eyes. “The doctor will speak with you shortly.”
“When did he pass away?” Evan’s voice was trembling. He was crying. His head held down and his hand on his forehead. Emma sat there helpless, holding his shoulder as they both sat at the bedside of his father. His body was covered up in white sheet to the neck. A peaceful smile on his face. He lay stiff and flat on the bed. No signs of life.
When the doctor came in, he explained that old man Fletcher had what was called a PE. Pulmonary Embolism. Basically the culprit of his father’s demise was a blood clot that traveled from somewhere in the body through the blood stream up to the lung and blocked the main artery of the lung or one of the branches of the artery. Sometimes it was termed sudden death because it could happen so fast and nothing could be done about it when it happened. The doctor said that most likely he didn’t feel a thing. Evan had blown it then and asked the doctor how would he know what his dad felt? “Have you ever had a PE yourself?” he had asked the doctor. He later apologized after Emma squeezed his shoulder and rubbed his back trying to calm him.
“He’ll be taken down to the morgue soon. Have you made funeral arrangements?”
“Didn’t know he was going to die today.”
“Sorry, I meant sometimes when loved ones are terminally ill or chronically ill, the family makes arrangements ahead of time, just in case.”
“Honey, I can help you with that.”
“No, it’s okay, baby, you have
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