Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
But right now?
Right now it was all on her.
“At twenty-four hours after the onset of labor, we typically start to consider cesarean,” the doctor said.
“As long as the water has broken,” Dante put in. “And her water has not.”
“But she has been laboring—”
“We’re not discussing surgery.”
“And the baby’s heartbeat is still fine,” Catrina added.
The doctor sighed. “Okay, I will be back in an hour to check you again.”
And have this same useless conversation again.
Dante didn’t bother to tell the man that, though. Soon, the doctor was gone, and they were once again left alone in the hospital room.
“Climb the stairs—I climbed the fucking stairs,” Catrina muttered under her breath.
“Come here,” Dante said, remembering something from their birthing classes. “Here, amore, we’ll do something different instead of walking the halls, and climbing stairs.”
Catrina gave him a look, but held out her hand. He helped her down from the bed, and then pulled his phone from inside his pocket. A couple of swipes on the screen, and soon, he had music filtering into the room.
A fun, fast beat that his wife loved. One that made her dance, and smile.
Birth was painful, yes.
Long, sure.
Difficult and hard, absolutely.
But it was also memorable. And he wanted Catrina to have good memories of the day their daughter was born.
Plus, if it helped her along ... well, win-win.
“What are you—”
“Dance with me, regina.”
Catrina cocked a brow. “Calling me Queen right now, bello, really?”
“My Queen is amazing—unstoppable, and she knows it. My Queen likes to dance, Cat. So dance for me.”
She took his outstretched hand, and soon, the two were dancing. It was an hour later when the doctor came in before they took a break.
She was at four, then.
Progress.
Catrina didn’t notice the time crawling by when Dante was making her dance, and keeping her happy. The contractions barely slowed her down, too.
*
It took:
One deep breath.
One hard exhale.
One more push.
One long cry.
One single tear.
One second of silence.
One wail from a baby.
One amazing woman.
One perfect baby girl.
And everything changed for Dante in the blink of an eye. His life had already been changed once by Catrina, and then again by Michel.
But all of the impossibilities in his life were made possible when a blood-stained, pink-cheeked, dark-haired baby with his coloring, his wife’s features, and their shared life was put into his arms.
Everything that wasn’t ...
Everything that couldn’t be ...
Everything that shouldn’t ...
Suddenly was.
And she was perfect.
Her little button nose, and puffy cheeks. Her eyes that weren’t quite opened fully, and her soft whimpering cries that soothed as soon as he started rocking her. Her little pink lips puckered into a bow, and those tiny little fingers ...
All wrapped around his thumb.
Dante fell into a corner chair with his daughter tightly swaddled in his arms, and he didn’t know what to say. He looked up to find his wife was looking over at him with that soft smile of hers—always knowing, but never speaking her thoughts out loud unless she needed to.
“She’s perfect,” Dante said.
Little Catherine.
Beautiful, and full of grace.
A life just beginning.
A soul as old as time.
Perfect, like her mother.
Stubborn, like her father.
Dante’s impossibility.
Catrina’s gift.
And he didn’t know what to say to her.
He waited so long ...
He was not supposed to have her at all.
And he didn’t know what to say.
“Say hello,” Catrina whispered.
Dante did just that.
“Hi, sweet girl ...”
Catherine’s eyelids fluttered at his voice, but her eyes didn’t open completely.
That was okay, too.
“I’m your daddy.”
Catherine’s eyes opened.
And for a moment, time stood still.
The Silence
The thing about silence that people didn’t realize until they were stuck in the midst of it?
Silence echoed.
It filled spaces.
It was uncomfortable, and cold.
Unwelcome, and yet right at home.
Silence was an unknown killer.
For the last day, Dante’s home—a place that had been his haven for years when the outside world had never felt safe—became filled with that silence. His wife was still there, and he was drawn to her side more often than not, but she didn’t speak. Neither did he.
Because what could he say?
What should he say?
Silence was always an option.
It was another thing people didn’t realize about it. When someone wasn’t ready to talk, when they didn’t know how to handle things around the, silence was an easy option because it graced someone with time.
Silence was also an answer.
And right now, it was the only one he had.
Because what else did he say?
What did a father say when his daughter tells him that she was raped?
Oh, he was fucking angry—not at her—but he was. So angry. Violently angry, and yet there was nothing he could do to subdue the emotion. The rapist was gone, his daughter was alive and well—years later—and his chance to fix the situation, not that it could be, was long gone.
Instead, what he was left with was time, and silence. Time to think, and a quiet mind to do it with, even if everything else around him seemed to be screaming. He couldn’t do anything except consider and wonder and think ... think far too much, so that’s what he did. He absorbed the information, and what had transpired after. He hurt for his child, and he wished he had known. God ... he wished he had known.