40
Heartbeat - James Arthur
S oft. Fragile. Pink.
So bloody small .
I cradle my son in my arms, his tiny body bundled up, soft and light as air. So delicate. So fucking small. I’m terrified I’ll drop him, that even breathing too hard might shatter him. He’s pink, all swollen and scrunched up, eyes shut tight. I don’t even know what he’ll look like yet.
But his hair—it’s lighter, like his mum’s. My amazing, unstoppable firecracker of a woman.
I glance up at the nurse. “Why’s he so light? Shouldn’t he be heavier?”
She smiles. “He only weighs three-point-three kilograms. Perfectly normal.”
“Am I… holding him right?”
She gently lifts him, positioning him higher so his head rests snug in the nook of my elbow. “Just like that. You’re doing great, dad.” The nurses finish up with Imogen before saying they’ll give us some time alone. Her dad slips out, too, promising to visit us again soon.
It’s just us now, me and this tiny miracle. I can’t stop staring at him. In his face, I see myself, a little kid robbed of so many things. But I swear right now, he’s going to have everything I didn’t. The whole fucking world. And I’ll do it with a strong-as-hell woman by my side.
A tear escapes down my cheek. “Come sit,” Imogen says softly, patting the bed beside her. I wipe at my face and ease down, still holding my son.
“So much for that bet,” I grin. “I was right, and you already—”
“Who said I like you?” She fires back and my heart skips. “I believe the words I’ve said are, I love you,” she smirks, kissing me quickly.
“Fuck, you had me going.” I kiss her again. “I love you more, Immy.” She stares up at me, her eyes searching mine. She’s got that look, the one that gets right inside me, and I need to spill it, to get it all out before I burst.
“You know, when I look at you, Imogen, I see everything. A real life, a happy one, right here in front of me. The kind of life I never thought I’d get to live, let alone deserve. But it’s here, and it’s you.” Her eyes glisten, a tear slipping free.
I swallow, my voice dropping lower. “I never thought a woman like you would take a chance on someone like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Imogen. You’re perfect. All this time I was chasing you, I never thought I’d actually get you.”
“Please. It was inevitable,” she says with a roll of her eyes and I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head.
“Too right, sugar. And I wouldn’t have stopped.”
I stare down at my son, this tiny little boy who’s got a whole different life ahead of him—one nothing like mine. He’ll never flinch at the sound of dishes breaking. Never have to hold his breath, waiting to see what mood I’m in. May he never, ever, fear me, like I once did my own.
No—he’ll know me as the dad who’s here. Always. The one who stays close. The one who’ll pick him up every time he cries, who’ll stick around through every single fucking thing life throws his way. I pass him to Imogen, then, with a smirk, I pull out my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting in the group.” Wattle Creeks Finest.
Me: It’s a …
Isla: Oh my god!!! It’s a girl, I can feel it.
Mikey boy: Nah it’s a boy.
Xav: We’re just downstairs, don’t make me barge in there.
Amelia: Omg this is so exciting!
Olivia: Pretty please, hurry up!!!!!
Me: A BOY!
A flood of responses pours in.
Xav: Fuck!
Mikey boy: Told ya! Better pay up, mate.
Olivia: Lol! How much?
Mikey boy: $50
Bradley: Congrats, you two!
I laugh softly, reading their reactions. We asked them to wait until Imogen and I were ready for visitors, and they didn’t put up a fuss—not one bit. We love them for it. For now, though, it’s just us—our little family. There’s a whole world outside, waiting to rush in, but for these next few hours, it’s all about this moment.
Just us, holding on tight to what matters.
The next morning, Isla and Xavier finally arrive. They’d had to leave last night when visiting hours ended at 8 p.m., and they were lucky to have stayed as long as they did. As soon as Imogen sees Isla, her face lights up, and she breaks, releasing a shaky sob. It’s as if Isla’s presence gives Imogen the release she needed, all the emotions she’s been carrying finally having somewhere to go. Xavier stands beside me, and I can see in his eyes—this is raw, this is real.
Isla pulls away from the hug. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wanted to come in, but I shit myself when I heard them looking for me. I panicked. I’m so sorry, Imogen.”
“It’s fine, babe. You did the right thing. You called the boys.” Isla nods, a tear slipping down her cheek.
“Gave us both a near heart attack, and then you hung up on us without warning,” Xavier mutters beside me.
Isla huffs. “What did you want me to do, stay on the phone for a chat? I had to call 000.” Xavier’s jaw tenses beside me, and I place a hand on his shoulder, offering some comfort.
Imogen softens, her voice steady. “It’s okay. We’re here. Safe.”
Isla nods, kissing Imogen on the head before looking down at Joseph, her expression softening as she takes in the sight of him. Imogen’s gaze follows Isla’s. “How is it even possible for something so small to make you feel so much?” Imogen whispers, brushing her finger over the baby’s cheek.
“It’s indescribable,” Isla murmurs back.
“He’s so… delicate. I feel like he’s going to break in my arms.”
Isla laughs. “Oh, I remember that feeling with Callie. She looked so tiny, like you’re almost afraid to touch her. But trust me, they’re stronger than they look.”
“I just can’t believe he’s finally here. We’ve waited so long.”
“It’s amazing, isn’t it? Every little thing they do is magic. Just wait until he starts holding onto your finger— ugh , you’re done for then.” Imogen laughs, and I can’t help but smile at her. My heart feels too big for my chest watching them like this, these women who mean the world to me, bonding over the tiny miracle we created.
Then, as if on cue, Michael bursts through the door. He doesn’t even pause, just strides over to me and wraps me in a bear hug, slapping me hard on the back. “Look at you.” He grins. “A daddy now, huh?”
I laugh, but it’s choked with emotion. “Yeah, mate. I guess I am.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Xav says, smirking. “I guess we’re both daddies now.”
“How does it feel?” Michael asks.
“Like I’m gonna need a crash course in parenting,” I joke, but there’s truth in it.
“Well, don’t go asking Xavier for advice,” Michael snorts.
“Hey, I’ve been a father for months now. Fuck off,” there’s no real malice in Xavier’s tone.
A firm knock on the door interrupts the moment. Bradley steps in, dressed in full uniform, his face a mask of professional calm. But I know him well enough to catch the flicker of concern in his eyes.
“Is this a good time?” He asks gently, his gaze moving between Imogen and me. “I’d like to go over what happened at the salon. I’ve got my colleague Reynolds waiting outside.”
Imogen nods slowly.
“I’m going to push aside that we’re family, just for a moment, and be the police officer,” Bradley says, his voice measured.
Imogen looks up at me, then back at Bradley. “Okay. Harrison, can you take Joseph?” My eyes widen.
Isla and Michael both blurt out, “Joseph?” at the same time.
Imogen’s face turns crimson. “It… just slipped out,” she stammers and her face turns a shade of pink. I can’t help but grin at her. We’d planned to keep the name to ourselves a little longer, but what the heck—we’ve been dying to tell everyone. Isla coos, practically melting.
Michael stands, stepping closer to me. “Joseph, huh?”
“Joseph Steven Price,” I correct him and his expression softens. “Immy and I figured we’d name our miracle boy after those who mean the most to us.” I glance at her, and she squeezes my hand, her warmth grounding me.
A smug grin appears on Michael’s face. “Ah, shit. And here I was hoping you’d name him after me—Mikey or something.”
“Nah, that name is only reserved for you, Mikey boy,” Imogen snorts, mimicking the nickname I always use.
“Fair enough,” Michael says with a shrug.
“Joseph Steven Price,” Isla repeats the name with a beaming smile. “It’s perfect. Such a fitting, biblical name for a beautiful boy.”
I reach down, finally, lifting Joseph gently from Imogen’s arms. His tiny body wriggles in my hands, and my chest tightens with love so fierce it’s almost overwhelming. I cradle him close, completely forgetting Bradley for a moment.
“Sorry, Brad,” I say sheepishly.
He shakes his head. “No need. I’m the one who should be sorry for interrupting. Congratulations to you both, truly. On the name as well.”
Imogen shifts, sitting up despite the obvious discomfort. She winces, and my chest aches. She shouldn’t have to do this—not now. She should be resting, soaking in this moment, not reliving the nightmare from earlier. But she meets Bradley’s gaze, determination written all over her face. That’s Immy—fierce and strong, even when she doesn’t have to be.
Bradley clears his throat. “How are you feeling? After… everything.”
Imogen’s voice is quiet but steady. “I’m okay. A little shaken up, but… I’m okay.” I feel a surge of pride—and anger. Pride for her strength, yet anger that she has to go through it all.
Bradley nods. “I’m glad to hear that, Imogen. I promise I won’t take up much of your time. I need to ask a few questions, though.” His tone shifts. “Can you walk me through what happened? From the moment you noticed something was wrong.”
Imogen takes a deep breath. “I’d just closed the shop after finishing up a client. Isla was with me, but she’d gone to the back to help me clean. I had my back to the door when it was forced open, and they… they came in. Armed.”
Every word is a gut punch. I can still see it—her scared, cornered, and me too far away to do anything. Bradley keeps his voice calm. “Did they say anything? Make any demands?”
“They wanted cash. Money that Harrison’s father owed them. When I told them I didn’t have what they wanted, they persisted. They didn’t leave. One of them… grabbed me.” Her voice cracks, and I can’t stop myself.
“That’s enough.” The words rumble from my chest, and I take a step closer, Joseph tucked protectively against my chest. “She’s been through hell. Do you really need to drag her through it again?”
Bradley pins me with a stern look. “I get it, Harrison. I do. But we need this information to build the case. For her.”
Imogen reaches for my hand. “It’s okay. Let’s just get it over with.”
Bradley continues. “One of the offenders was shot at the scene. The others are in custody and will be facing charges, including armed robbery, trespassing, and assault with intent to cause grievous harm. They will be denied bail and will stand trial in court. Once you’re feeling well enough, we’ll need to take a formal statement from you. I’ll also need to speak with Isla as part of the investigation.”
Imogen nods, but my mind, though? It’s racing like crazy—replaying every single moment of what could’ve gone wrong. I shake my head slowly and Bradley catches the subtle movement.
“You did good, Harrison. You’re both here. Isla’s safe. Imogen’s safe. Your son’s safe. You got there in time.” Bradley then turns to his brother, Xavier. “You both did.”
Bradley’s words hit me hard. If we all hadn’t been there in time—if things had gone another way—I can’t even begin to imagine it. But he is right. We made it in time.
I swallow hard, the gratitude swallowing me whole. “We owe you a thank you, mate.”
He shrugs, all modesty. “Just doing my job.”
With that, he shifts gears, and the formalities ease. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to Imogen’s head. “Congratulations again to you both,” he says before pulling me into a hug. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I’ll see you both soon,” Bradley says, his gaze lingering on Imogen before he nods at me and moves to leave. His exit is quiet, but the weight of his presence lingers, a quiet strength I won’t forget. Isla moves in, pulling Imogen into another hug, offering her the comfort we all know she needs right now.
I sink down beside her, pressing a kiss to her temple, my arm wrapping around her.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper. “Always.”
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you, too,” I reply, my heart heavy and full all at once.