I’m not meant to be with my dream guy. I messed up my one chance. And I left that pathetic damn letter on the dining room table.
Shit.
“He knows what’s going on dad. I called Day yesterday and spoke to him about what Doc Brewer said. I also told him to call Devon and let him know that I might give birth early.”
Day had tried to talk about Devon and about my leaving but I’d cut him off and made him promise to text me the date and times for his practice days and the upcoming game.
That’s coming in four weeks and he’s promising to come and get me on a day Devon’s not around so I can watch him practice.
So yeah, we’re doing the divorced parent thing now.
“Sugar-”
“Daaaad. I’m not running or hiding or anything that you’re thinking. I promise. I just need a few more days to get over the loss and then I’ll go see him and give him those papers my lawyer drew up.”
Thank God for Logan and his support. He’d taken one look at my veiny eyes-something that happens when I refuse to cry-and given me a hug and the promise that he’d help me with whatever I need.
My first need had been a lawyer to draw up visitation agreements and some parental rights things that I don’t understand but am willing to go with. I don’t want to deprive him of his kid after all.
“That’s bullshit getting sharks involved. You’re the kid’s parents, you should be adult enough to sit down and hash things out over a cup of coffee. Or something.”
Have I mentioned that dad and Devon have spoken and are right back to being buddies and that since they no longer want to deck each other dad has taken Devon’s corner and tries to set us up all the time.
Thank God for mama and her bra burning stance on my rights for privacy. She’d tipped me off twice and helped me sneak out before Devon turned up.
“I tried that remember? He’s the one who insistedon making things legal like. Now stop harassing me and eat your vegetables old man.”
“Beck.”
“Nope, not listening. I’m done feeling like shit because I made a mistake and ran away. I came back. I tried to apologize and explain. It’s done dad.”
“Brandon. Leave my daughter alone before I go get you an extra helping of greens and shove it down your goddamned throat. She’s hurt and needs your love, not a freaking matchmaker!”
I smile and wink at mama when dad shuts his mouth and goes back to hiding his vegetables under his potato.
***
“You’re going to have to push Becky.”
“I am goddammit!” I yell, screeching through the pain and baring down with a fight.
I’ve been in labour for close on thirteen hours now and despite the fact that I’d threatened the hospital staff with death and or disembowelment I’m currently drug free and attempting to squeeze a giant out of my vagina.
It hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life and if excruciating were a number that’s what I’d say when asked what my pain scale is. Mama has been a rock through it all and I will never be able to repay her for the way she’d ordered everyone to sit in the waiting room and shut up.
She’d ensured that I didn’t have to spend my labour reassuring people-my family is acting as if I’m at death’s door-and that Devon only got in to see me for ten minutes before he’d been booted out with the rest of them.
I sound cruel I know but I hadn’t been in a place to let him hold my hand and coach me through this, not now. Maybe when I see the baby and feel more like…not crying myself to death, I’ll be able to look at him and smile.
“Come on honey, come on now. Push my darling.” Mama says sternly, her face as cherry red as mine as she holds her breath and pushes right along with me through every contraction.
“I see the head Becky dear. Push as hard as you can when I say sweetheart. One, two, three. Push!”
“This isn’t right. A bowling ball can’t fit through an opening the size of a grape!” I screech, pushing so hard it feels like my head will explode.
“If that’s what you think, you should wait a while before looking at your vagina again.” The nurse chuckles, dipping her head when I glare at her through the aneurism I’m about to have.
“I. Will. Cut. You.”
I push harder when I feel the pressure increase, my voice coming out in a thin wail that blasts through the room like a gunshot.
I keep pushing, ignoring the commotion at the door and focus on staying conscious, my entire lower body feeling like one big geyser about to erupt.
The pressure suddenly releases with a whoosh and I slump back, exhausted and ready to sleep when I hear a mewling wail a moment before the doctor rises from between my legs and plops a bloody, writhing-
“Oh my God.” I choke, looking down at the little miracle wriggling on my chest.
“You’ve got a beautiful, perfect little girl. Congratulations mama, you did good.”
I can’t stop the tears that slip out and pour down my cheeks or the hysterical sobbing cry that leaves me when my daughter opens her eyes and stares blearily up at me, her mouth pulling into a slash as she lets out a cry of indignation.
To say that I’m surprised to be looking down at a little girl, well, I’m mighty glad mama has a thing for white and yellow or I’d be raising a little hoydenish tomboy.
I feel a gentle kiss on my forehead and look up, ready to let mama see the baby and all the joy I feel in that moment but it’s not her I see when the tears finally clear, it’s Devon and he’s looking at me with so much pride I can’t help but smile back and release my grip on the baby.
“You did so good imp.” He chokes and I chuckle through a sob.
“Yeah. You ready to meet your daughter?”
We may never be together and a part of us may never learn to get over the hurdles and distrust that we’ve sown through our tumultuous relationship, but this I know as he takes the squirming bundle from me an kisses her bloody cheek as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever beheld; Devon is going to be a great dad and I couldn’t have chosen better for my kid.
There is no better. He’s it.
Chapter Thirty Four
“Are you sure you’re okay? I think the wind is picking up. I’ll ask coach if I can pull the car onto the entrance at the field and you and Immie can watch from there.”
“Day, calm down okay. She’s a baby not a piece of glass and it’s not windy at all. Go do your thing and we’ll be here, just fine, till you’re done.” I laugh, giving the kid a small shove before leaning down to adjust the blanket over Imogen’s chin.
She’s a month old and already so spoilt I don’t stand a hope in hell with her unless I buy a whip and some sort of kiddie leash. The kid is huge, really huge, my vagina can attest to that fact and the apple of her dad’s eye.
And apparently any eye that lands on her cute little face.
Her little tufts of downy hair are golden blonde just like her father’s and her eyes, while still that murky baby blue, are promising to be the same pale grey that make up the Baxter clan.
Go figure his genetics would overrun the game and go freaking figure that my little gem would look exactly like the man I’m trying my darnedest not to think about every second of the day.
I can just see myself years from now, crying into my cereal when that smile lights up her face and reminds me of everything I’ve lost.
I’m doing okay though. After a huge argument and a lot of yelling I’d convinced my folks that I am not an invalid just because my little girl tried to rip me in half and that I can do things by myself.
And then I’d whammied them with the little house I’d let Grey buy me-I’m paying him back in full when I get a job-and ignored their arguments and put them to work.
I am now a single mom, living in a very cute little single cottage, exhausted but content to let the hordesin at all hours of the day to see the precious little cherub.
“His form is better.”
I look up to see Devon stand
ing beside me, his hands crammed into the pockets of his light coat.
“Yup. He’s got the speed and the build to make it.”
This is the first time we’ve been alone in almost two months, not since the night I’d left and while it’s awkward I can handle it. So what if my heart is trying to pound its way through my chest cavity and so freaking what if my stomachs fluttering?
“May I?”
“Sure, just don’t try to pick her up please, the little hellion just fell asleep and she can shatter glass when she gets woken from her nap.” I warn, shifting over to make room for his broader frame.
“I won’t. I learned that lesson the hard way last weekend when Davy picked her up to cuddle.” He chuckles, sitting way too close. “You look exhausted imp.”
Well gee, thanks.
“Aw and here I was so sure I looked like a super model after giving birth to a child the size of a small person.” I say sarcastically, my ego stinging at the put down.
“No.” he sighs and sits back, his hands ruffling through his hair. “I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t beautiful.”
I snort and pull a face, keeping my eyes glued to the drills out on the field because looking at him is not a good idea. Damned post pregnancy hormones.
They say that you’ll get better after the birth but that’s total bullshit. I’m a walking bag of emotions right now. I’d cried during a chocolate ad for goodness sake, not sure if I was crazy or just Jonesing for chocolate I can’t have till I lose at least some weight.
“Imp, I, can we talk?”
“About?” I ask, pretending to fiddle with a blanket as he turns towards me and rests a hand on the back of my seat.
I can smell his cologne and take a quick silent sniff that almost has my eyeballs rolling to the back of my head with need. I miss that smell and the steady comfort it had represented. I want it so badly some nights when Immie is keeping me awake and I’m dead on my feet.
If I had that smell I wouldn’t be up by myself or obsessing with terror about my ability to care for Immie or the fact that I feel gross and totally inept most of the time.
If I had the smell I wouldn’t be alone and right now that is something I want more than my next breath.
“Us, I-”
“There is no us Devon.” I say tonelessly, sitting up to meet his eyes with what I hope is a clear, trouble free expression.
I see him blanch and resist the urge to take it back and offer him…I don’t know what but I want to ease the tension I see bracketing his lips and smooth the guilt from his eyes.
“I didn’t sleep with her imp. I swear. I kicked her out as soon as I heard you leave and I…”
“It doesn’t matter. I had no right to do or say anything at that stage. You made that very clear. I tried to force something on you that you told me you didn’t want. You made sure I understood that and you helped me see that I was making an ass of myself. End of story. I should actually just say thank you.”
“Imp.”
“Er, look, I think I should go. Day was right it is a little too windy for Immie to be here. Tell him I’m sorry for cutting out early and that I’ll call him later.”
I pick up the chair holding my daughter and wait for him to kiss her goodbye before bolting back to my car and making my way home.
When I get there I lay Immie down in her cot and flop down on the sofa, my heart and body a mess of contradictory emotions.
Does it matter that he didn’t sleep with the blonde bimbo who’d made me feel like an unattractive wildebeest? Yeah, it so totally does. It matters so much that I feel a weight I hadn’t known was still there ease off my tired shoulders.
The problem with that is that it shouldn’t. We’re done. Finished. I shouldn’t feel like smiling and doing a jig in celebration, something I’d been perilously close to doing before my reasoning had kicked in and I’d made a hasty escape.
Dammit. I am way too happy that all he’d had left over from that night was a face full of lipstick and a hard on, and that does not bode well for me.
Chapter Thirty Five
Dev
“Well, that went well. Not.”
I flip Davy off and start the car after he hops in, his eyes trained on me as I put the car into gear and pull away slowly.
“Shut it lad.”
It’s all I have the heart to say as we make our way back home to a house that no longer feels like a home. I’d spent so long taking imp’s light in my life for granted and trying to push her away that I hadn’t realized how empty it would be when I finally accomplished my goal.
Christ, I can still remember the agony in her eyes that night and the way her lip had trembled before she’d bitten into it to stop the movement. She’d been so hurt and defeated that I’d almost thrown that blonde tramp out the door and fallen to my knees to beg her not to cry.
But the anger, that ever present sickness that had taken hold of me and refused to let go had still been too great for y common sense to override, so I’d done the unforgivable and let that bitch insult my woman before taking her skinny arse up to my room and closing the door.
That had been cruel and calculated, letting my baby think that I would ever soil her bed with another woman’s cheap perfume and sallow skin. She’d left straight after of course and I’d watched from the window as she’s shoved herself into her car and left, my security team following from a safe distance as she ran away to lick the wounds I’d purposefully inflicted.
I’d tossed the vapid woman I’d picked up in a bar out on her arse-after calling a taxi of course, I am not an animal-and then I’d basked in my victory.
For all of two seconds.
After a quick shower to scrub the disgust from my skin I’d padded downstairs and walked into hell. Pure hell. My very pregnant, fragile imp had obviously gone to a lot of trouble cooking traditional fish and chips-something I’d complained about missing-and a homemade tiramisu that had most likely taken her hours to make from scratch.
And then I’d seen the envelope sitting beside one of the plates and I’d lost my smarmy smirk. Fast. I still have that bloody heart wrenching letter though I’ve read it so many times I can recite it off by heart. All three gut wrenching pages.
In those three sheets of velum I’d learned everything I could ever hope to know about my girl. She loves me, really, really loves me. She wants not only a family, but she loves my brothers with an all-consuming pride that I will never find in another.
And then I’d learned that while she takes full blame for every shitty thing she did, she had done it all because deep down it’s not that she doesn’t trust me, it’s that she doesn’t feel good enough to hold the attention of a man like me.
She’d begged me to give her another chance and sworn to do better. She’d asked for just a little faith and promised me the love and devotion she knew I deserved.
I’d read that letter and felt my world shatter and fall at my feet because I knew that any chance I’d had at happiness was now well and truly gone. I’d shot myself in the foot and added some vinegar in the form of the type of woman I knew made my perfect girl feel insecure and unattractive.
I’d tried calling for a solid week and even roped her father into helping me-after a very long talk and a black eye from Grey and Logan-and I’d shown up at the house three times before finally giving up after I’d watched my imp trying to sneak to through a side gate.
Now I’m not one to give up and I’m arrogant enough to say that I’m made of sterner stuff than a fragile woman like my imp, but after watching her become so desperate to escape me that she’d willingly squeeze her massive tummy through a gate, while crawling behind a car I’d retreated and regrouped.
Only nothing I do is working.
She’d even barred me from the delivery room and made me stand outside her door while her screams of pain and grunts ripped me to shreds.
That had hurt, a lot but it was nothing I didn’t deserve and I bloody well know it. I’d seen the end result t
hough and to say that the sight of my daughter only made me love imp more…
“Could you please stop watching that video?” Davy asks after a long silence, bringing me back to the present. “I know you’re torturing yourself with all the gory splendour that was your daughter’s birth but I can’t sleep at night after hearing that shite in surround sound. It gives me the bleeding willies.”
I grin and shake my head because I know that tonight just like every other night since she’d been born I will watch that video if only to see my girl in all her bloody glory as she screamed, yelled, cursed and threatened all and sundry with bodily harm as she pushed Immie into the world.
Never again will I take for granted the gift that is a woman bearing a child for a man. It’s bloody hard and excruciating and so beautiful that no matter how sick it is, I can’t stop from wanting to see that miracle.
Plus it’s the only way I get to see my girl at night so I’ll take what I can get and be happy for it.
“Put your headphones on and leave me alone wanker. It’s beautiful.”
“Ah no, it ain’t and you know it. Look, just go over to hun’s and lay it all out for her. Tell her you are a bleeding sorry excuse for a man and that you’re sorry for everything. Tell her you love her. Tell her something because I am about a second away from losing my shit and forcing you two stubborn gits to grow up and let it go.”
“I tried at your practice. She wouldn’t listen. I’m afraid if I push t she’ll stop coming around us altogether and I-”
“Look, let’s be real here. The girl shamed herself trying to make it up to you and you fucked it up beyond repair. The only thing you’ve got going for your miserable arse now is your kid so I say use the fact that hun won’t keep Immie away from you to your advantage.”
Naturally I’ve considered using my fatherly rights as an excuse to force imp into closer proximity-I told you I am too ruthless to let an opportunity pass me by-but I’d been holding off because even I’m smart enough to see how mercenary that approach is.
But if Day’s suggesting it…
JACE (Lane Brothers Book 3) Page 86
