by Aiden Bates
The person who could not be trusted was Nick.
Bastian sat on the couch, wanting to be near his omega in case he needed him, but he felt like he needed to do something. He had already spoken to his brother, the doctor, who served on a physicians’ ethics committee in Florida. After a few calls, his brother was able to recommend a good attorney located in Washington State.
“He’s not cheap, Bastian, but he’s good. He’s the one you want.”
That was the ringing endorsement Bastian needed, and now he was waiting for the attorney to return his call.
That left him with way, way too much free time.
He thought about those days when Zachary was left alone with Nick in the clinic. Zachary, who couldn’t remember who he was or why he was there for about a week. It didn’t cross Bastian’s or anyone’s mind that they might need to protect the patient from the doctor.
After Zachary’s long-term memory returned, he couldn’t remember much of what happened around the time of the accident. What he did remember about his time in the clinic was fragmented.
Did Nick take advantage of that? Did Nick assault him?
Bastian barely made it to the toilet before he got sick.
The call from the attorney came in at around seven o’clock. Zachary was still sleeping. It had been dark for hours already, and Bastian stood at the window with the phone against his ear, peering out into the black. The only thing he could see were snowflakes flying past the window in the small patch of light that escaped into the nothingness.
The attorney would file for a restraining order immediately. At very least, Nick would be unable to contact Zachary without being arrested. That gave Bastian some peace of mind. He could protect him for about six weeks, anyway, keep him as stress-free as possible.
After that though, it was inevitable: there would have to be DNA tests. That’s what the summons called for. No one could say, conclusively, that the baby was not Nick’s. Except, of course, for Nick, and no one trusted him.
“What if—what if the baby is his?”
“Then we have Nichols arrested for assaulting Zachary. I don’t see how any jury wouldn’t find him guilty. As far as what you do in that case, Bastian. That’s up to you. Do you want to raise another man’s baby as your own?”
“Zach’s baby? Absolutely.”
The attorney paused before speaking. “Good man. In that case, I know that it’s impossible, but try not to worry. You’ve got six weeks or so to take care of your omega. I’m very good, Bastian. I won’t let them tear your family apart.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Day by day, Zachary improved. His physical health stayed good, and the baby was doing fine. It was just the shock of the summons, and the idea that the baby might not be the product of Zachary and Bastian’s love, that kept him in bed. He was coherent and calm, though, and the nurse-practitioner stopped by a few times to take his blood pressure.
After a few days, he began to take his daily walks again, starting at Holly’s café, moving down to Carl’s to pick up a few things, stopping by the library to check out a movie, and saying hello to a few friends on the way.
He told no one about the summons.
Gladys had been trying to reach him, and she was the one person that Zachary didn’t think he could hide the truth from. They’d grown very close and told each other many of their secrets. She would be able to read him like a book. He texted her a few times and told her he had a cold, and that they’d get together soon.
Deliveries arrived the week before Christmas, huge boxes from Amazon. Everyone in the building breathed a collective sigh of relief because the storms were coming. For the past five out of seven years, the roads had been closed during the days surrounding Christmas. If you wanted gifts under the tree, you had to plan. Sure enough, by December 23rd, everyone was stuck inside the building, but the Christmas spirit filled the air.
Wrapping gifts was one of Zachary’s favorite things. In the past, he’d spread out everything on the floor, but his pregnancy made that impossible, so he put all the gifts and supplies on the dining room table, turned on a Christmas music playlist, and got to work. It was the perfect soothing activity.
There was a meditative quality to it—first looking at the gift and remembering why he decided to buy it in the first place. In this case, it was a wine-bottle holder that was shaped like a unicorn, built so that you put the neck of the bottle into the unicorn’s mouth, and its rear hooves held the body. The horse was white and the horn was gold and glittery. He ordered it for Gladys; it was just so her. It would fit in so well in her weird and wonderful home.
The second part to wrapping was choosing the paper. It needed to be a pattern or color that would grab the recipient’s attention, get them excited about what was inside. For Gladys’s gift, he chose green Elf paper, with images of Buddy saying quotations from the movie. They found out in the early days of their friendship that it was a mutual favorite. Once the paper was artfully folded around the gift, he tied it with shining, metallic blue ribbon that reminded him of the current color of her hair.
She’s going to love this, he thought.
Up next, a pop-up book about Mars for Bastian. For some reason, the alpha had been fascinated with Mars exploration lately, following the NASA rover and reading books about it. Zachary blamed his interest on the movie The Martian, which they’d now seen only about one hundred times, with Bastian interjecting how realistic or unrealistic each scene was . . . every . . . single . . . time. Zachary came across the pop-up book and thought it was a cute and playful gift idea. He knew Bastian would love to read it to their baby.
The paper was deep blue with gold stars. Perfect.
A slow-burning pain crept into Zachary’s back, and he knew it was time to get up and stretch. Rising from his seat was a challenge, but he pushed himself up with the help of the tabletop and then did some gentle stretches. He thought longingly of Bastian’s strong hands and how he was always willing to patiently knead all of Zachary’s sore muscles.
The burn turned into a twisting pain, which spread from his lower back into his womb, and took his breath away.
Contractions!
No. No way. Five weeks early. Not dangerous to the baby, but not ideal.
When Zachary could breathe, he moved to the window, holding his lower back and trying on his own to make his muscles relax.
It was so white outside, white and gray. The sun was behind layers of clouds. Barely any movement. Snow was coming down, and the roads weren’t visible at all.
The pain was almost gone, except that tight feeling in his back.
Just a muscle cramp from sitting too long, he told himself. He decided to stop wrapping until later. Bastian could help him.
But fifteen minutes later, the pain was back but more intense. A burning pain in his lower back, extending into a twisting, tightening, pulling feeling in his abdomen. Zachary breathed through it, just like he’d learned in his omega-delivery videos, and it helped.
He knew it was time to call Bastian.
Bastian was only downstairs, working in the sunlamp room, thus made it to the condo within minutes.
It all went so fast.
Bastian called Dr. Thoreson. Dr. Thoreson could be heard whooping loudly through the phone line and from across the room. Even through the pain, Zachary had to laugh. Hearing his doctor’s excitement, despite the baby being five weeks early eased Zachary’s anxiety significantly. If Dr. Thoreson wasn’t worried, neither was Zachary.
Of course, there was the little issue with the roads, but that was easily fixed. Aaron was up to the challenge of picking up Dr. Thoreson and getting him back to Stellar Landing. He would take James along in case they needed to clear a path, but planned to have the doctor in the building within two hours.
“Two hours?” Zachary squeaked.
“Labor can take more than twelve hours, my love. You’re going to be fine.”
Aaron and James were gone before Bastian hung up with Dr. Thores
on.
In the meantime, Gladys, Denise, and Holly pitched in to help. Both Denise and Holly had experienced childbirth several times, and knew exactly how to comfort Zachary. As a first responder, Gladys knew how to prepare the clinic downstairs for childbirth, sterilizing everything and creating a soothing environment for both the delivery and the baby’s first breaths. When the nurse-practitioner arrived, Gladys helped her prepare surgical instruments just in case.
All Zachary had to do was breathe and trust in his alpha and his friends. Before they headed down to the clinic, he grabbed just one thing.
His camera.
***
Fast, so fast. It all happened so fast.
The pain was worse than Zachary expected. His omega-father had apparently either had a very easy delivery, or didn’t want to scare Zachary, because it was so far beyond the “mild cramping” that he described.
It took a few hours for the doctor to arrive, but Zachary was focused on getting through his contractions. By the time he got there, Zachary was ready for pain relief. After that, everything took on a warm, golden glow. He took photos as the doctor moved around him, as Bastian wiped his brow, and as the nurse-practitioner busied herself in preparation. No one seemed to mind.
Dr. Thoreson was amazing. Despite this being his first solo delivery, he’d gotten some practice in med school and residency. He was a prodigy, a genius, a virtuoso. Certainly, he had found his calling. It was just Bastian, Zachary, and Dr. Thoreson in the room at the time of delivery, and despite the clinical smell and the harsh lighting, it felt intimate and beautiful. There was no screaming omega, no panicking alpha, no spanking doctor, no screaming baby.
What there was, at the end, was a warm and compassionate doctor handing a beautiful baby to two grateful, exhausted, excited parents.
A baby girl.
Her cry was like music to Zachary’s ears. Her lungs were strong.
“She’s beautiful, guys,” Thoreson said. “We’ll have the nurse check her out shortly, but she looks perfect from my perspective.” The doctor gave them a pat on the back, and then left the little family alone together for a few minutes. He went out to where their friends were waiting to give them the happy news.
“She really does look perfect, doesn’t she?” Bastian said, doing that finger-and-toe-counting thing that new fathers always do.
“She’s going to have your hair,” Zachary said. It was thick, for a newborn, and black, with a slight waviness to it that hinted at Bastian’s long curls. “Thank God.” Zachary handed his husband the camera. “Take pictures.”
The door opened a little later.
“Hey, guys?” It was Dr. Thoreson.
“I take it everyone wants to come in to meet the baby?” Bastian asked with a laugh.
“Well. Yeah. But that’s—um—there are cops here, and a doctor from the hospital. They’re requiring a blood test. Right now.”
Zachary gripped the baby, laying on his chest. He saw Bastian’s face turn red, and his fists clench.
“Hey, Bast,” he said in his softest voice. “We knew. And we can get through this together. Nothing is more important than our marriage and our baby. Everything else is secondary.”
Bastian nodded. “Yeah, Thore, let them in. We . . . we expected this.”
Dr. Thoreson took a step back, and an apologetic looking doctor and cop took a step in.
It was just a prick on the baby’s heel, and she only made one tiny little cry. The doctor took the sample quickly and sealed it, then marked it.
“How long?” Zachary said.
The doctor knew exactly what he meant. “Usually, less than a week.” With an apologetic nod, he left.
Zachary was crying, but he had a smile on his face. He realized it was silly, but he kept thinking to himself, Maybe she’ll think they are happy tears.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The baby was Bastian’s and Zachary’s. One hundred percent only theirs.
They decided on the name Stella, after the place where they had fallen in love, where she was conceived, and where she was born. Her middle name was Ansel, after Zachary and Bastian’s favorite photographer.
“It’s perfect,” Gladys crooned, looking down at the infant swaddled in a bassinet in Zachary and Bastian’s living room. “She’s perfect.”
Stella was a week and three days old, and during that time, Zachary and Bastian spent every waking moment loving her, loving each other, and worrying.
Two days earlier, they finally got the news from their attorney: the baby was in no way related to Nick Nichols, and only shared DNA with her fathers. They also gave their attorney permission to press charges against Nick. And then they decided to just forget about it for a little while.
“This outfit is adorable, Gladys. You hand-knitted this?” Zachary held up a light gray hat with kitten ears. There were matching mittens and booties. The yarn was incredibly soft.
“Crochet, actually. It was one of the first things I learned how to do. All of my dolls had little dresses.”
“You’ve got incredible skill. You should sell these.”
Gladys nodded noncommittally. “I suppose. But that would make it a job. I like doing it for the people I love.”
“That reminds me.” Zachary moved to the counter, where the Elf-wrapped gift sat. “This is for you.”
The unicorn wine-holder was a hit, as was the nice bottle of cabernet sauvignon that accompanied it.
“Let’s save this to drink together,” Gladys suggested. “When you’re feeling up to it.”
“God, I wish I could have a sip now,” Zachary admitted. “But I should wait until Bastian is here.”
“Has it been stressful?”
“Not being a daddy. I love being a father, and she’s been very good, actually. Bastian is a very involved parent.” Zachary leaned down and kissed the baby’s head, ever so softly. She was a good baby, but Zachary knew better than to wake her up before she was ready. “It’s just—” He looked at Gladys and decided it was safe to tell her. “You know Nick Nichols?”
The look on Gladys’s face indicated that she did.
“He claims that while I had amnesia and was under his care, that we—that we had sex.”
Gladys’s face turned pale. “That would be, that would be—”
“Don’t say it. We aren’t saying the R word. We don’t know for sure. But we do know that Stella is ours.”
Gladys whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Zachary shrugged. “There are bad people out there. Crazy people, I guess. I don’t remember everything that happened around that time, but in my heart, I don’t feel that Nick even touched me. I think that, for some reason, he’s just making all of this up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”
“No, Zach. It was—I’m sorry—it was me. I was the one that was sending photos and telling Nick what was going on in your lives. I didn’t—” Gladys burst into sobs and hid her face in her hands.
Zachary was quiet for a moment. Her words took a moment to sink in. But suddenly, everything clicked. That’s how Nick knew where to have the summons delivered. That’s how Nick knew where to send the DNA-collecting doctor and when. Suddenly, Zachary thought of the day at the Mexican restaurant, when Gladys had been sending all the photos—whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—but later Bastian claimed to have only gotten two.
“Gladys, why?”
He still couldn’t see her face, and she only shook her head.
Zachary got up, texted someone from his phone, and then grabbed the bottle opener out of a kitchen drawer.
“Bastian’s on his way up. You and I are going to enjoy a glass of this fine wine, and then, when he gets here, I’ll pour him one, and you’re going to explain. Okay?”
Gladys nodded. It wasn’t until Zachary handed her a glass of wine that she took her hands down from her red, tear-streaked face. She still couldn’t meet his eyes.
***
“About tw
o years ago, I was going through a hard time,” Gladys began.
She told the two men about the chemical-imbalance that led to distorted thinking, that made her feel like she was unloved, that kept her shut inside her apartment like a prisoner. She explained seeing her mother’s worried, disappointed face all the time, and hearing about her brothers’ careers and weddings.
Then she described the night when, after being awake for more than twenty-four hours, she decided to break into Dr. Nichols’ clinic and steal some drugs.
“I didn’t actually want to die,” she explained. “I just wanted to numb myself. But as soon as I took the pills, I realized what I’d done.”
She banged on her mother’s door, and her mother moved quickly, saving Gladys’s life.
Then she told them about Nick’s discovery, and the subsequent distortion.
“I thought to myself, he doesn’t want sex, or money, or for me to hurt anyone. He just wants photos? It seemed like he was just being nosey. I—I didn’t think it would hurt you. I was stupid.”
She tossed back the last of her second glass of wine.
Bastian and Zachary looked at each other.
Finally, Bastian spoke up. “Gladys, there was definitely an invasion of privacy, but Nick would have done all of this without your help.”
Zachary nodded.
Gladys looked at the two men. “But I told him that you were in labor.”
“He was watching for that anyway. He would have tracked us down within a matter of hours. He’s still got connections at the hospital, and his attorney likely has legal contacts.” Zachary waved his hand in the air as if to wave away the thought of it.
“I’m sorry you went through that, Gladys,” Bastian said, his voice full of compassion. “Depression sucks. I’ve gone through it. No one, especially a doctor, should have made you feel shame over that.”
She nodded. “It was more the stealing that I was ashamed of.”
“I understand that. But I guarantee you, no one in Stellar will believe Nick Nichols’ word over yours at this point. We will stand by you if he ever tells anyone about this.”
