Things We Burn Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Anne Malcom Advertisement1

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The first time it happened, Kane was so alarmed, he called for a nurse. I hadn’t known exactly what to expect postpartum, but the pain, the magnitude of it, was surprising. Same with the blood, the nurses who came into the room every couple of hours to push on my tender uterus and flush even more blood out.

I was not wearing an expensive robe, propped up, nursing my baby while looking fresh and well rested, like popular culture portrayed.

My hair was matted, and I wore my bloody hospital gown until a nurse kindly suggested I change into the pajamas I’d brought with me.

My meticulously packed hospital bag was barely touched, other than the aforementioned pajamas. I had brought a plethora of toiletries including shampoo, conditioner, body wash and skincare products. The thought of standing for the period of time it took to shower made my stomach roil, so I avoided that. I barely managed to splash water on my face and brush my teeth.

My mother and Maisie arrived the next morning, looking far fresher than the two of us.

Well, I should say me.

Yes, Kane’s clothes were slightly rumpled, his hair messier than his usual tousled style, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. But he still looked handsome, roughish. Just … softer now.

Then there was seeing him with Mabel in his arms. Yes, the sexual part of my body felt like it was shut down inevitably, but it might’ve made my womb clench if it weren’t already aching from shrinking down to its pre-pregnancy size.

“This is the best thing I’ve eaten in my entire life,” I moaned through a full mouth.

Maisie was holding Mabel, who calmed in my sister’s arms right away after fussing over a diaper change.

She sang to her quietly.

I was eating the ham sandwich my mother had brought, wrapped in wax paper. Devouring it like a wolf might’ve been a more accurate description. I didn’t know how starving I was until that moment.

I was still getting the hang of breastfeeding … and to just being a mother while in large amounts of pain. The fact that they didn’t give anything stronger than Motrin should’ve been criminal.

Kane continued to change tiny diapers with large hands, like an expert.

He fawned over me. Kissing me whenever he had a chance, jumping to help me to the bathroom, if he didn’t have the baby in his arms. Gingerly transferring her to my mother or Maisie if he did.

And when the lactation consultant returned, he was right there, front and center, observing the latch and asking questions about positioning, nipple care and what I could and couldn’t eat.

The answers to which he wrote down.

In a little blue notebook.

“It’s my dad book,” he explained proudly, waving it in the air. “It’ll be the dad bible. I’m going to put every piece of advice we get in here.”

There he was, Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes, waving a blue notebook around proudly, jotting down information about nipple care and the football hold.

“Google exists,” I reminded him.

“Fuck Google,” he muttered.

I smiled at him then at Mabel, who I was still struggling to believe was mine, that she’d come out of me. Sure, I had all the evidence, stitches and all, to reinforce that she was mine, but it was still surreal.

Soon, my mother and Maisie left to prepare the house for our arrival—whatever that meant.

Though we were covered to stay another night at the hospital, the nurses informed us that both Mabel and I were cleared to go home whenever we wanted.

I thought of the uncomfortable hospital mattress, the cramped bathroom and the constant noise. I compared it to my expensive bedding, soft mattress, large shower and house that I’d never thought of as a home until that moment.

I made the choice to get discharged. Kane had second-guessed it, worrying about me, which seemed to be his new full-time job. But I was insistent. I’d made up my mind. Home, with my comforts, would help make me feel grounded. Right then, everything was different, even my body. It was the still round but significantly smaller bump at my stomach that shocked me the most.

I hadn’t been attached to being pregnant. I hadn’t liked the restrictions that came with it, that people treated me like there was something wrong with me. I’d thought I’d love the freedom of having my body back, but I felt a pang of grief, of emptiness. Never was Mabel safer than when she was tucked up inside me. Now she was in this loud, dangerous world. I was more than mindful that Kane was recognizable, that there were many people who might see him roaming the halls, holding his daughter and think to snap a photo. The mere thought filled me with panic.

Yes, home and safe in our little cottage in our little town was much more preferable.


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