When Art Falls

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When Art Falls Page 19

by Lorrain Allen


  Four months later

  After the fuckathon on the yacht, Art kept his distance for a week, then the fighting and fucking commenced. He called my bluff and won. I never had any intention on getting a restraining order against him, which royally pissed off Mom and Anneli to no end. They couldn’t babysit forever, so Art and I fell into the same routine—though he’s not as intense as before due to my growing belly. I haven’t told them what caused the major fallout between Art and me, and I never will. True to his word, he bought me another ring, and he has not exonerated Josh for his deceit. We aren’t married and still live separately. He gave me until the birth of our baby to come to terms with the way things are going to be, or he’s dragging me down the aisle kicking and screaming.

  The man is fucking stubborn, but his hard exterior slipped during the second sonogram, and it was magnificent to see. His gaze stayed riveted on the monitor. It was true love—a sight to behold. When the ultrasound tech announced we were having a baby girl, Art smiled—a rare genuine look of pure joy. She has him wrapped around her little finger and she hasn’t even been born yet. Rubbing and laying his head on my protruding midsection has become his favorite pastime. He stares in awe whenever our baby moves inside me. There’s no question Art will do anything in his power to keep her safe, even forfeiting his own life.

  For the tenth time in two minutes, I reposition myself on the pregnancy pillow Art gifted me. I’m unsuccessful in finding a comfortable position. At six months pregnant, I’m bigger than normal, and I’ve been experiencing lower back pain. It’s time to get up to cook dinner anyway, and I promised Sebastian and Mason we’d bake cookies. I roll out of the bed and waddle into the hall. As I descend the stairs, a toy car catches my attention, but it’s too late to avoid it. I step on it and lose my balance, causing me to tumble down the stairs.

  Thinking the worst, I rush to the hospital after receiving a call from Missy about Cin’s fall. I park directly in front of the entrance. Not willing to waste any time getting to her side, I leave the car door open and the engine running. I race from the elevator and down the hall where I spot Missy and Anneli. They’re both crying.

  God, please. I am not a praying man, but please have mercy on me.

  “Where is she?” I ask in a broken voice.

  “She has to have an emergency Cesarean section,” Anneli answers.

  “Cin’s asking for you,” Missy says. “Only one person can be in the operating room.”

  “The doctor is coming,” Anneli says.

  I anxiously watch him approach.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Channing.” He holds out his hand. “I’m assuming you’re the father.”

  “Yes,” I reply, shaking his hand.

  “Surgery is in five minutes. We need to get you prepped.”

  “Will our baby live?” I hold my breath, waiting for a response.

  “Ms. Belo suffered a partial placental abruption, causing internal bleeding and depriving the baby of oxygen.”

  “What are their chances for survival?” I ask, feeling sick to my stomach.

  “It’s hard to say. Ms. Belo will be given a transfusion during the procedure to replace lost blood, and a pediatric team is on standby to provide care for your daughter the moment she’s taken from the womb. You have my word everything possible is being done to ensure mother and child survive.”

  I embrace Missy, then Anneli. “Cin is strong. She’ll pull through and bring our baby with her.” I follow the doctor down the hall and suit up before entering the operating room.

  “Art,” she says weakly, giving me a small smile.

  I walk over and kiss her on the forehead. “I’m here, baby.”

  The surgery starts promptly. I whisper words of encouragement, remaining calm for her sake though I’m actually scared out of my mind. Minutes blend together until finally I catch a glimpse of a small body being pulled from the incision. Our precious girl is blue and limp, so tiny she could fit in the palm of my hand.

  Doctors begin to work on her immediately. “Starting neonatal resuscitation.”

  “Is she out?” Cin asks, fear shining in her eyes. “Why isn’t she crying?”

  “It’s okay. They’re working on her.” I struggle to hold tears at bay, needing to put on a brave face for Cin.

  “Her Apgar score is low,” a doctor says.

  “What does that mean?” she sobs. “I want to see her now.”

  Suddenly, her head lolls to the side, then a loud beep resounds in the room.

  “Patient flatlined.”

  “Cin!” I shout.

  “Please step back,” Dr. Channing says.

  Becoming hysterical will only hinder the doctors in their efforts to resuscitate Cin, so I give them a wide berth. My world is cracking, soon to implode on itself. I drop to my knees and do something I’ve never done in my entire life. I pray.

  Five months later

  Five months ago, my soul mate died. I cursed God and beseeched him to give her back. She lost more blood than expected, sending her body into shock. It took three fucking minutes for doctors to revive her, but I swear it felt like hours. The team had to work extra hard to resuscitate our daughter, but almost twenty minutes later, her piercing cry reverberated through the operating room. Cin was released six days later. In the weeks following the birth, Cin and I lived in a nightmare. We decided to forgo selecting a name, instead choosing to focus on our baby’s health. It was hell not knowing from one day to the next if she would survive. The hospital became a second home for us. Sebastian blamed himself for leaving the toy car on the step and started having trouble sleeping. Being no stranger to insomnia, I made it a priority to put his mind at ease.

  Both of our families pulled together, offering unwavering support. Revenge for Josh’s deception was put on hold. The old man, Ricky, Katrina, and Lilah came to visit. Even Anneli and I came to a truce. Our daughter’s diagnosis improved as the weeks went on, and we finally chose a name—Arabella Elise King. She’s beautiful, the most precious thing I’ve ever beheld. She’s a mixture of us both. Arabella’s eyes are a green and hazel blend and her hair is black and wavy. I ordered Cin to pack and move in with me pronto, not caring that my command angered her. I refuse to live separately from my daughter. She deserves to be brought into a household where both parents are present. Sebastian has settled into his bedroom and the nursery is done. It’ll be awhile before she’s mobile, but the entire mansion is already childproof. Four months to the day Arabella entered the world, she was discharged. I gave Cin thirty days to plan our wedding. The task was accomplished with the help of her mother and Anneli. We’re not ready to leave Arabella, so the honeymoon is being postponed.

  It’s our wedding day. Forty guests are in attendance. I never thought I’d be a jittery groom, but here I am, nervous as fuck. An enlarged photograph of Cole is stationed to the left of me. This day wouldn’t be complete without him. The doors of the church open and I’m in awe at the sight before me. Cin is wearing a simple veil and an off-white knee-length dress. She didn’t go the traditional route. She chose to walk down the aisle with Arabella in her arms and the boys walking alongside her. Our family is finally whole. The ceremony is short, and after the photographer takes pictures, we head to the Falcon.

  Today is like a dream. Uncertainty has filled me for the last year, but finally I’m optimistic about the future. I’m all smiles, mingling with family and friends.

  Josh ambles up beside me. “Can I talk to you privately?”

  “Sure.”

  We walk over to an empty table and sit.

  “I’m sorry for not speaking up.” He takes a breath. “It was a shitty thing for me to do.”

  “Josh, it’s okay.”

  “I’d be pissed if I were you.”

  “Grudges are a waste of time.”

  “Hopefully your mindset will rub off on your husband.”

  I laugh. “One can hope.”

  “What’s so funny?” Art appears at my side.

  “Oh
, nothing,” I snicker.

  “Josh, do you mind if I dance with my wife?”

  “Not at all.”

  Art grasps my hand and leads me to the middle of the banquet hall. We wrap our arms around each other and sway to the music.

  “You’re due for a spanking later.”

  “What?” I ask, astounded.

  “Well, you were talking to Josh and you know the rules.”

  “The arrangement ended months ago.”

  “The rules will always apply.”

  “I’m your wife now.”

  “And I’m still a jealous motherfucker.”

  “You’re seriously going to ruin our wedding day?”

  “It’s your fault for flirting and joking with Josh.”

  “Expect a fight.”

  “Am I supposed to be deterred?” He smiles smugly.

  “Okay, bring it on,” I challenge.

  A mischievous glint flashes in his eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  All is right in my universe. Sometimes Art shakes shit up, but overall, I’m content. I have an amazing family. My husband and best friend are getting along. Mom even found love again, with Ricky no less. That news was a bombshell to everyone. Apparently, they reconnected when she visited North Carolina last December. Their rekindled romance came to light after the wedding. She’s even contemplating relocating to be with him. It’ll surely be difficult not having her near, but she deserves happiness. My selfishness destroyed their relationship once before, but I refuse to let history repeat itself. I freely gave her my blessing. I’ll talk to her on the phone every day and visit often. Hopefully, wedding bells will be in her near future.

  Arabella is a daddy’s girl. She’s the light of Art’s life. The chick is spoiled rotten—definitely a diva in the making because of her indulgent father. Playing an active role in our children’s lives is important to Art, so he works from home most days to make that possible. He puts them above all else, not wanting them to ever feel the empty void he felt as a child. In regard to Art and me… well, he is and will always be a domineering jackass. I’ve come to terms with it. If it’s not him keeping me up all damn night, it’s our daughter. I smile, recalling last night’s sexual escapades when Art enters our bedroom.

  “It’s time.”

  I sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed folding laundry. “I’m busy.”

  “Oh no, you’ve been making excuses all week. Get your ass up.”

  “We can’t leave the kids home alone.”

  “I called your mother, who happily agreed to come over and watch them. She’s already here. Meet me out front in ten minutes.”

  Oh fuck.

  I lean against my Ducati Multistrada, waiting for Cin to appear. She has an unnatural fear of motorcycles. It took weeks to convince her to go on a ride with me. She relented when I promised never to ask again if she agreed. I’m positive she’ll enjoy the outing and request more. I never imagined I’d be married with three kids. Life has a funny way of throwing curve balls. I no longer feel guilty about being happy. In my heart I know Cole would want that for me. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t enter my thoughts. He’ll always be remembered.

  Cin storms outside, looking none too happy.

  “Turn that frown upside down.”

  “Eat shit.”

  “Is that any way to talk to your loving husband?” I chide.

  “I survived birth to die in a motorcycle crash,” she mumbles.

  “Being a little dramatic, are we?” I ask, handing her a helmet. I have one of my own too. After Mason was born, I started taking precautions when riding.

  “Why is this important to you?”

  “I want to share my joy of riding with you,” I answer and softly kiss her lips. “Do you trust me?”

  “As much as I trust a rattlesnake.”

  “Ouch.”

  She lays her head on my chest. “I trust you.”

  “Good.” I climb onto the bike. “Hop on.”

  She settles in behind me and we’re off. It’s cliché as fuck, but we ride off into the sunset.

  The ride has finally concluded, hopefully you enjoyed it and look forward to more of my possessive domineering assholes! Be sure to read my other titles and stay tuned for upcoming releases! Don’t forget to leave a review and follow me on Goodreads, Bookbub, and Facebook.

  Lorrain Allen currently resides in Washington, D.C. She has one amazing, albeit spoiled, son. She loves to get away from the world by losing herself in a book. Her long-term goal is to pen paranormal, contemporary, young adult, dark, and erotic romances. The subject matters of her books are controversial, but what’s life without a little controversy?

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