Chapter 28
Lucia
Was it weird that I missed him being a dickhead? Probably.
But seeing him nice all the time was… strange. It seemed to make him happy, so I let him be. As long as he didn’t think he could spoil our daughter rotten—that had consequences. Look at him: a reformed dickhead.
I chortled to myself.
“What?” he asked, glancing over.
“Nothing. Just a passing thought.”
He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment before going back to his daddy-daughter book.
I felt a tightness in my belly and almost hissed. Once the pressure eased, I reached for my phone.
Me: It’s go time.
Garrett: On my way.
“Who are you texting at this time of night?” Laurent asked, glancing up from his book again.
“I hope that’s you practising that line for your daughter,” I said, side-eyeing him.
Only Laurent could think I had the inclination to text another man while I was going into labour.
Oh, God. Was he pouting?
“Can you help me up, please?” I asked sweetly.
He set the book down, finger holding his place, and stood. I sighed, eyeing his bare, broad chest.
I couldn’t even get any action because he refused to let our daughter hear his nasty words.
I must not have moved fast enough, because he wrapped his arms around me and hauled me off the bed. I got my feet under me and started pacing. Gravity had to help.
“Grab the hospital bag. Garrett’s on his way,” I said, pausing to savour his deer-in-the-headlights look.
“No. It can’t be time already. She’s probably safer in there,” he said, pointing at my belly like my body had personally betrayed him.
“Oh, but you worked so hard for this baby,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You’re getting too sassy,” he grumbled, tugging a T-shirt over his head. “You’ll both gang up on me.”
“Yes. Yes we will. And you’ll love it.”
“Probably,” he muttered, “but that’s not the point.”
I paused mid-stride as the tight band around my abdomen stole my breath.
Laurent was behind me, rubbing slow circles into my back—and damn it, it was surprisingly soothing.
“Deep breaths, sweetheart,” he murmured, and I nodded.
All these months, I’d imagined labour happening in Klingon and on my own.
It was almost a relief to know he’d be here so that I could swear at him to his face, in English.
Lights flashed through the curtains, followed by the blare of a horn cutting through the quiet street.
Great. Just what I needed—two grown ass men panicking.
?? ?? ??
To be fair, they kept me entertained on the drive to the hospital.
My room was ready, and I was ready for drugs.
Garrett reluctantly left, which was sweet—though I did wonder if he was Laurent’s support buddy, because he was the one having trouble breathing.
I handed Laurent the gas.
“Here. Take some of this and chill out.”
He looked at me, then at the gas mask. I think he was actually considering it.
Then he slowly shook his head.
“I can do this,” he said firmly.
Unbelievable.
I took a prolonged inhalation of the gas.
Ahh. That was better.
“One day they’ll write sonnets about your bravery,” I told him, then started giggling.
He didn’t appreciate my words—his frown said it all.
We might’ve had a rough beginning, but I wouldn’t change a thing. If I did, I’d have missed all the wonderful people I met along the way.
Laurent dragged the chair closer and took my hand.
“You’ve got this, baby,” he said, pride radiating off him.
“We’ve got this,” I replied, placing the gas mask back over my face.
We really did.
?? ?? ??
“Why was she screaming about Klingon?” Garrett asked.
Laurent chuckled. “You heard that?”
“I heard more than I wanted to. I ended up getting coffee. She had me blushing.”
“She’s something else,” Laurent sighed.
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“Are you going to let me hold her yet?”
“No. Once Lucia wakes up, I won’t get a chance.”
I smiled at his words. He wasn’t wrong.
“Let him hold her for a minute,” I croaked, opening my eyes. “Ugh, I need some water.”
“Here,” Laurent said, carefully placing Lia in Garrett’s arms.
“Congratulations, Lucia. She’s beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, smiling as I caught sight of her little dark curls poking out from beneath her second-hand hat.
Laurent helped me sit up before handing me a glass of water.
We didn’t need to say anything.
Lia completed us.
We were a family—not a perfect one, but nothing in life ever was.