Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
The spinning starts to slow, and Janet grips my hand with a wink. At first, she fucking hated me. Hated. Me. But things started to change as soon as we found out Jess was pregnant. And now, things are so much fucking better it’s like a brand-new day.
“We can’t have you passing out, now can we?” Janet says. “Sam. Juice!”
Sam shoves the bendy straw from a Capri Sun in my mouth. “Drink, Dad. Keep your sugars up!”
I suck in the super sweet mango-guava-cooler-whatever and it helps a bit. In the background, I watch Ben pacing around with his hands in his pockets, unable to do anything but look at the carpet. I realize that all the guys in the room—me, Sam, and Ben—are all a fucking disaster. Sam can’t stop crying, I think I’m going to pass out, and Ben is literally going to pace a hole in the carpet.
Meanwhile, the doula, Janet, and Jess are rolling with it like pros.
Not a surprise. At all.
Jess slumps back after a contraction and the doula tidies her wet curls off to one side. “Just one more push, sweetie! And I think we’ll be in business!”
I hold Jess close, my bare chest pressed against her back, the soaking wet back of her exercise bra between us. I try to focus on the tangibles. Her scent, the shell of her ear, the beautiful pregnant plumpness of her gorgeous body. And it helps, a little.
But not much. Because until I know she and the baby are both safe and well, I’m going to be a fucking wreck.
I look at Janet, into her blue eyes, that used to be so icy but that are now so warm and kind. People can change, they can. If you give them a chance. “Tell me she’ll be alright.”
Janet looks at Jess, smiling. “She’ll be more than alright, Mike. They both will. I promise.”
I feel Jess start to brace for another contraction. I watch the solitaire necklace rise on her chest as she takes a big breath. “Here it comes,” she says, to the doula, and to me, and to everybody here who loves her so much.
All of us seem to suck in a big breath at once, right along with her. Of anticipation. Of excitement. And, in my case, of pure fucking terror. Because if anything happens to her, that’ll be the end of me. I can’t live without her. I won’t live without her ever again.
Jess’s roar starts low in her chest, like a lioness, and then louder, and louder, and louder, until we’re all roaring right along with her. Her body pushes with all its might against me, so much fucking power, so much fucking strength.
Then, silence. Jess grunts and relaxes back against me. Then the doula reaches down into the water.
And brings out a pink, screaming, wrinkly baby girl.
Holy mother of fucks. I hang on tight to Jess, but laser focused on her our daughter’s little body with her tiny little toes. And her fingers, holy fuck her little fingers.
The whole world blurs at the edges and everything that has ever mattered becomes clear. Jess. And our little girl, with her shock of red hair and her wailing cries.
The doula pinches off the cord and hands the baby to Jess, who cradles her in her arms, as I cradle Jess in mine.
“Are you okay?” I whisper against Jess’s ear.
She nods, her eyes fluttering. “Yeah. I am totally okay.”
“The placenta has been delivered,” the doula says softly and warmly. “Mom and baby are safe and sound, Dad.”
Safe and sound.
All the worry, all the terror of the last twelve hours—fuck, the last forty weeks—start to fade away. I hold Jess close, cradling the back of our little girl’s head in my palm. “I think we should call her Michaela, after you,” Jess says softly.
“Hi Michaela,” I whisper.
And then, all at once, a dam breaks inside me and I am sobbing, fucking sobbing, with so much joy, as I hold them both close and safe in my arms.
“She’s going to call you Daddy.” I hear Jess whisper through my balling. “And we both know, you are the best Daddy in the whole world.”
Fuck, I love her. Both of them so fucking much but all I can do right now is cry and hope they understand, my tears are my soul, slipping out of me so they both know, I belong to them.
Forever.
CHAPTER 12
Mike
Epilogue - 12 Years Later
The turkey is in the oven, the pumpkin pies are cooling, and the kids are outside playing in the leaves. And we’ve still got three hours before the rest of the guests arrive.
Which means it’s time for me and my baby girl to do what we’ve done every Thanksgiving for the last twelve years.
I come up behind her at the sink. The light is getting low, and I can see her reflection clearly in the window. Her eyes flutter shut as I touch her, and my cock throbs in response. She was so young when I first made her mine, and she’s still so fucking young. Always my baby girl. Always.