Choosing My Happiness

Chapter 1 Daisy

The pain rolled through me. It was gaining in intensity.

The pregnancy had been hard since before I worked out what was wrong with me.

The morning sickness had been intense, and I still felt the nausea sometimes.

Now, I was dealing with stitch-like pain stabbing through my body, getting stronger and then easing again.

I gripped my belly and then the wall, breathing heavily.

I didn’t know what was going on, and I was scared.

I fumbled for the phone. I didn’t know who to call.

I took a breath as I felt the pressure begin to ease.

Bathroom, maybe I needed to pee, hopefully that will fix whatever this is.

Could it be a UTI? I stumbled into the small bathroom and pulled down my pants.

When I noticed the streak of red in my underwear, I pressed my husband’s number and prayed.

“Blaze? Can you come home now? Please? Something’s wrong with the baby,” I pleaded into the phone as soon as he picked up. I could hear the sounds of the club behind him. The loud raucous of the bikers trying to out-gloat each other.

“Daiz?! Okay, I’ll be home soon. I’m just relaxing after the shift.

Don’t stress, it’s not good for the baby.

” He hung up amidst the laughter. My husband, who promised to love and cherish, through sickness and in health, laughed as he hung up on me.

My hands shook as I tried calling again.

I kept swallowing the fear that was lodged in my throat.

The call connected as I sobbed. Thank God he answered again. I sniffed.

“Daisy?” I knew the voice, but it wasn’t Blaze. It was kinder, more mature. I took a guess.

“Bull?” My reaction was immediate relief that it wasn’t someone I’d have to argue with.

He’d only been voted in as President of the Ares Riders for a year.

For a year I had avoided most things to do with the club because my husband was an idiot around the boys, and my father was worse, but this was one man who no one had the power to contradict.

“What’s up, Darlin’,” he said soothingly. My breath caught at the gentleness in his voice. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

“I don’t know,” I replied shakily. “There’s blood.”

“Alright, I’m sending help. Where are you?” His voice gained the crispness of command.

“Um, at home, in the bathroom. Please, it hurts.”

“On our way, Darlin’. Just stay where you are.”

I dropped the phone from my ear. If anyone could get Blaze to listen, it would be Bull…

or my Dad. But I knew Dad would just tell me to give Blaze some space, let him live his life.

I curled my arms around my stomach as another cramp hit.

This shouldn’t be happening. I was only 24 weeks pregnant. I sank to the floor beside the toilet.

It felt like hours before I heard the sounds of the motorbike. I sighed in relief. Help had arrived. Just then, another cramp hit and I curled over my pain again.

“It’s ok baby, Daddy’s arrived. It’ll be okay” I whispered to the little life inside of me. I heard the front door open and a strange voice call out.

“Daisy?”

My heart sank. It wasn’t Blaze. I didn’t know who it was. But Bull said he’d send help. I took a chance. “In here,” I yelled.

A young man in a plain leather vest came into sight.

“Hi, I’m Jim… Bull–um, Blaze–um, the club sent me over,” He stammered, his eyes wide open in shock. The kid was young, made younger with his clean-shaven face and innocent grey eyes.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, squashing my disappointment down.

It was obvious. Bull hadn’t been able to convince Blaze to check on his own wife and child, so he had to send a prospect.

A prospect who had no business looking at an ol’lady, let alone rescuing her.

But he was the one who was sent. I had to step outside of the rules too, shifting expectations that were ingrained in me throughout childhood.

“Can you take me to the hospital?” I breathed as the pressure eased. “I’m 24 weeks pregnant and bleeding. The car is in the garage. Keys are near the door.”

I tried to get up on my feet and wobbled.

“Whoa.” The prospect grabbed me by my shoulders and steadied me on my feet.

“You don’t look too good,” he said simply.

I almost burst into tears at the concern in his voice.

He sounded like a normal person, not a prospect who was bound by the rules of a motorcycle club. The prospect stepped up beside me.

“I got you.” He moved my arm over his shoulder and picked me up in his arms.

“Where are the keys? Let’s do teamwork. You grab them and navigate us to the car. I’ll get us there and then drive.”

I finally burst into tears. Tears of relief. I wasn’t dealing with this alone anymore. And the person helping me might wear club colours, but he wasn’t backing away like he should. I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.

“Deal,” I blubbered.

We grabbed the keys and my phone, and he had me sitting in the car in no time. As he went around to the driver’s door, I heard him call someone on the phone and check in.

“Hey, yeah. I’ve arrived and she’s pretty bad.

We’re heading to the hospital. Can you let Blaze know?

Yep, will do, Bull. Thanks. No, I’ll wait with her until he gets there.

She needs someone with her.” He ended the call and slid into the seat, adjusting it quickly to his height.

“Let’s go fix this,” he said brightly, before reversing out into the street.

I waited until the next contraction ended, squeezing the hand that he generously gave me when he noticed the pain.

“Where is he?” I asked.

Prospect’s face closed down as he tactfully answered, “Busy.”

That was confirmation enough. We’d been 3 years officially together, and I’d had 2 years of finding stashes of condoms in his pockets. They were mostly still new in their packets, but always different ones, and some were empty. I knew that they were being used regularly.

I sighed. “His regular fuck, or a once off?” I almost groaned the question through the pain.

He glanced at me in shock.

“He’s not exactly discreet, even though he promised me in our wedding vows,” I muttered. The kid’s jaw clenched in silence, then he shook his head.

The action said it all. Blaze was screwing around, while I was scared of losing our baby. I put my head back against the seat and concentrated on getting through the pain while we drove. I may have squeezed extra hard on Prospect’s fingers at times. He never complained.

* * *

I lay on the bed in a small room with a blue bed pad under me, and monitors were hooked up around my belly.

There were a lot of concerned looks. Prospect’s being one of them.

He respectfully stood out of the way of the nurses, waiting, hovering in the corner, his presence comforting and annoying at the same time.

Blaze should be here, not a no name prospect.

The midwife ushered in a doctor who looked very uncomfortable and serious. He gestured Prospect forward to the other side of the bed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace, I’m very sorry,” he started. Prospect’s eyes flared in panic, and my heart dropped as the doctor cleared his throat and continued as gently as he could. “While you are in active labour, we can’t find your baby’s heartbeat. I’m afraid…” He stopped talking as I screamed.

Part of me felt sorry for the prospect. He’d been sent to cover for a brother–my husband–who never turned up, and now he was having to step up to deal with a mess that should never have been his.

But most of me was thankful for his support, because he did step up in a huge way for me.

As soon as that scream left my throat, he’d cradled me in his arms, holding me tight and letting me hide my face in his neck.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lovelace,” the doctor stuttered. The kid barely glanced at him as he spoke over my pain.

“Jim, my name’s Jim.”

Jim became more than just a prospect. In every way, he took the place of the man who said he was mine. Jim made the difficult decisions for me. He listened to the doctor’s advice. He signed the forms for me to have an emergency c- section. He stood beside me and stood up for me.

Throughout the ordeal, Jim never left my side.

He held my hand and kept my focus while the anesthesiologist wiped something cold on my back and administered the epidural.

He whispered encouragement, and most importantly, he held me and caressed me as I cried out my pain and sorrow.

He was the perfect husband to me, despite not being the one to say those promises.

He even ignored the club as messages buzzed into his phone.

I heard the messages coming in. Jim checked them when he could, but kept his attention on me. I was grateful, so grateful… but so disappointed.

I remember asking him where Blaze was at one point. I can’t remember his answer, but I remember his disappointed look just before the sheet went up around my abdomen, and then I gave up.

* * *

Jim sat on the bed behind me, holding me carefully as I cuddled my little boy. My baby was perfect. His little eyes fused closed still, veins visible beneath his thin skin. But so perfect. I heard the camera click as Jim took some photos on his phone.

“I’ll send these to Blaze.”

I shook my head. “Please don’t… he doesn’t deserve them…. unless,” I looked at Jim, “did he message?”

Jim looked down and shook his head.

“Bull did,” he replied, “and some other club members. They wished you luck. A couple of other prospects checking in as well, and Janie, Bull’s ol’lady.”

I hated my husband then. Pure, fiery hate.

“Send them to Bull then. He can send the news around.” I looked back at my boy. I felt the acknowledging nod from Jim.

Then he asked, “What’s your number?”

I gave it to him, to hear the dings of a message come soon after. He’d sent those photos to me as well.

The midwives came soon after to measure and weigh my baby boy. They took foot prints and handprints, then handed him back to me to dress him in some donated dolls clothes. He was still perfect.

They wheeled in something they called a cuddle cot, to place him in. It was a freezer masquerading as a bassinet. But it kept him close.

“What’s his name?” they asked. I thought deeply.

Blaze had been adamant that his son would carry his name, just like his father and grandfather.

The first son born always carried the name on.

It was ironic that the name was similar to the prospect who had supported me and actually deserved the honour of passing his name down to a child.

“James Paul Lovelace,” I announced. I’ll keep everyone happy with that one. Blaze gets his dead son named after him. He passed his name onto his first born son as he wished. Now that legacy would end with my baby, and Blaze wasn’t here to complain. But I also commemorated Jim in my heart.

I heard Jim typing away on the phone, and I looked at him.

“Just letting Bull know the details. He can let Blaze know once he gets himself cleaned up.”

I looked at Jim, and he sighed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, you didn’t,” I agreed. “Jim, thanks…thanks for supporting me. I’m sorry you were burdened with this, but I’m glad you were here. I’m not sure I could have done this alone.”

Jim’s face softened. “You are so strong. It was a privilege. Thanks for letting me support you, and for not kicking me out of the room.”

He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “You’re an amazing woman, and you deserve better than this,” he whispered.

I started crying again, deep tears of loss. Jim folded his arms around me and our baby, and he held me gently. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat until I fell asleep, hoping for once that Blaze took all night.

* * *

A while later, I was lying in a private room with Baby James in the cuddle cot beside me. Jim had finally taken off, assuring me that a bag of clothes was coming, courtesy of Janie, when Blaze finally turned up.

Blaze paused at the cot and gazed at his son.

“He’s called James Paul Lovelace, as you wanted,” I broke the silence coldly. He shifted the flowers into the hand with the gift bag and reached in to pick Baby James up. Baby James fit in one hand, his head neatly resting on the top of his father’s finger tips, and his bum in his palm.

“My son,” Blaze groaned. He glanced at me. “Do they know what happened? Why your contractions started?”

“They said placental abruption. It’s where the placenta starts coming away from the uterus. They can usually save the baby if the mum can get to the hospital quickly,” I replied dryly.

He swallowed and looked back at his son.

“He’s beautiful,” he hummed, shrugging off my subtle accusation before moving over to sit on the bed.

“Sorry I didn’t make it.” He held out the flowers and gift bag. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” I scoffed. “He’s dead, Blaze. There won’t be a next time.” Blaze was still staring at Baby James, ignoring my warning tone. I sighed, giving up. The contrast between Blaze and Jim was huge. I wanted Jim. I wanted a man who would be there for me, and I was stuck with this loser.

Blaze finally noticed that I hadn’t taken the flowers from his hand, or the gift bag that was dangling from a finger. He glanced at me with a worried look on his face.

“Was she worth it?” I asked. A look of guilt crossed his face as he snapped his eyes back to his son. “I knew you screwed the town girls. I just thought I was more important, or at least our child was more important”

He didn’t say anything. He opened his mouth a few times, then thought better of it.

I relented and took the gift bag and looked inside.

There was a slim box there containing a bracelet.

It was gorgeous and glittery, but it was just bling.

I put it down beside the flowers that he’d dropped on the bed, and I took a deep breath.

“It’s not enough, Blaze. I deserve better. We,” I said, pointing between Baby James and myself. “We deserved better. You should have been here.”

Blaze continued staring at his son. He didn’t reply. I shook my head and moved the flowers and gift onto the bedside table. Then I rolled over to sleep with my back to him, my nose buried in the spot where Jim had sat.