Chapter 41
Damien
I died.
It’s the only explanation.
The world around me is brighter, lighter.
Somehow, I've snuck into heaven, and God finally deemed me worthy enough to stay.
Two angels sleep next to me, one on the hospital bed and the other against my chest, and I can't decide who to look at. It’s easy when my Goddess is holding her.
I can stare at them in awe until the minutes pass and my blinking reflex forces me to miss a moment.
Emma’s tiny chest rises and falls against mine as she lays asleep.
Her adorable little hand is curled around my finger, laid next to my tattoo of her mother’s name, and my bottom lip trembles as I stare at it again.
They really have no idea how much they mean to me—how void my life was before them.
I’m so weak for them, yet I’ve never felt stronger.
Our baby girl is three hours old. My little Emma…
She’s five pounds, one ounce, and barely under fifteen inches long.
She’s so tiny… Smaller than Dr. Campbell was hoping, but she’s perfect in every way.
I knew she would take after her mother. Why wouldn’t she?
Ashia is divinity in human form, a force so powerful that she has to be contained until the stars are ready for her.
Our baby girl is no different. Even as I hold her delicate form to my chest, I know she’ll be unstoppable.
She’s going to take over the fucking world, and I’ll hold her mother in my arms as we watch her do it with pride.
She hasn’t had to go to the NICU, thankfully, even though she is having some trouble regulating her temperature.
She’s either been on Ashia’s chest or mine, and the only time she wasn’t held by us was when I helped Ashia shower right before she fell asleep.
Serena stood over Emma’s bassinet to monitor her while she was under the heat lamp, but it almost gave Ashia a panic attack when she felt she took too long.
It wasn’t even fifteen minutes, but the fear in her eyes made my stomach flip.
I tried to reassure her that she needs to be taken care of, too, but my sweet, stubborn woman kept trying to get out.
I wouldn’t let her until she felt like a human being again.
Then afterward, I got her dressed in the comfortable pajamas we packed, and I brushed her hair while she breastfed our princess.
I was surprised when she actually listened when I suggested she take a nap before she tried to feed her again, but my little wolf is so exhausted, she couldn’t help it.
The baby’s also very sleepy, and is sluggish when she is awake, but they said that’s normal for being as early as she was.
Dr. Campbell also advised that she’ll be sensitive to light, loud noises, or rocking too harshly for the first few weeks.
So we’ve dimmed the lights, closed the blinds, spoken softly, and been as gentle as humanly possible with her.
There’s no way I’m letting anything disturb my little girl, and Serena was quick to warn the staff of what would happen if they did.
She even updated our families on her and Ashia’s condition for me, so hopefully everyone will get the hint and not try to visit right away.
I finally avert my gaze and look over at my beautiful, sleeping wife, wondering what the hell I did to deserve such a gift.
How did I win the heart of someone so courageous?
Words will never be able to describe the all-consuming love I have for her.
She likes to say that I saved her, but she doesn’t realize she brought me back to life.
Ashia Morgan Hartley restarted a heart I thought was long dead, and it only took one look.
One glance. One touch of gold as the sun set, and my reason for living shone through everything else.
I carry every word she’s ever spoken and every smile she’s graced me with in my heart, and I will for eternity.
Our love overcomes mortal boundaries such as time or distance, etched into the very base of our existence.
She has always been, and will always be, everything to me.
I never thought I was capable of loving two people so much, but now that I have her and our baby girl, I'm a sopping, mushy mess. How will I ever be scary again?
My thoughts are interrupted when the hospital room phone rings.
Ashia jerks awake, as if it scared her, and my sweet Emma flinches from the noise, letting go of my finger and whimpering.
My stomach instantly churns, like I’ve jumped off a cliff.
Anger charges forward, not only at whoever the fuck is calling right now, but at myself for not thinking of this possibility.
I attempt to soothe Emma with a small kiss to her head, and I whisper softly, hoping to God that I don’t overstimulate her any further.
“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s here. He’s going to make it stop.
” Her building cry hushes to a small whine, like she recognizes my voice, and I swallow harshly to keep my emotions at bay as I swipe the phone from the wall.
My eyes drift to Ashia, hoping that she closed her eyes again, but instead, I’m met with enlarged pupils and amber colors.
“Yes?” I answer the phone quietly, but probably a little more harshly than I should have.
I don’t give a fuck. They disturbed my wife and woke up my baby. As far as I’m concerned, this person is now enemy number one.
“I'm sorry to bother you all, Mr. Hartley,” a soft-spoken woman speaks. “But a Leanne and John Hartley are here at the front desk, asking to visit?”
God damn it, Mom…
“Who is it, baby?” Ashia asks groggily.
“It’s Mom and Dad, but I can tell them to come back tomorrow,” I practically insist. She was in such a deep sleep—they both were.
The past sixteen hours has been a lot on them both, and I just want them to rest. They need to feel safe and comfortable.
Well, as comfortable as Ashia can manage right now.
The last thing they need is to be crowded by my overbearing mother, especially because their husband-slash-father is already so possessive and protective.
“Please go back to sleep, baby. You’re so tired… ”
She smiles at me so lovingly that it almost steals the agitation from beneath my skin.
“No, it’s okay. I'll have to feed her again soon, anyway.” She painfully sits up, groaning softly as she moves slowly to adjust her position.
I move on instinct to help her, but all I do is pull the phone cord, so I tuck the phone into the crook of my shoulder and offer her my hand.
Relief instantly floods me when she takes it for support.
“They know they can’t hold her right now, right? I don’t want them to be disappointed.”
“Yeah, baby. Serena told them.” I squeeze her hand just a little.
“Are you sure you’re up for it? They don’t have to come in just because they’re asking,” I remind her.
Once the hospital bed is lifted and she leans back into a comfortable position, she nods her head in the sweetest way.
“They can come back,” I speak into the phone and hang it up, then quickly adjust the blanket around Emma, in case it shifted when I moved.
“Do you want to hold her?” I mumble, not really wanting to let her go. Ashia smiles at me and bounces her gaze between me and the baby, clearly wanting to.
“Do I? Absolutely, but they'll want to see you with her. So, I can wait a few minutes. Plus, this view is really nice.” Her tired smile reaches her eyes, feeling the same overwhelming love as I do.
“I love you,” I blurt out, sounding like a love-sick puppy and enjoying every second of it. Her eyes brighten and she silently chuckles, obviously finding it endearing.
“I love you, too.”
The door opens much too quickly, despite how gentle it is.
I was really hoping we’d have a few more minutes, so Ashia could mentally prepare for the emotional wreck my mother will inevitably be.
The curtain is pulled back, and my giddy mother emerges like a jack-in-the-box.
She scans the room until she locks eyes on us, then her face twists and her hands immediately fly up to her mouth.
I swear to God if she squeals and disturbs my baby, I'll fucking disown her.
“Oh, my God… Look at that sweet face,” she whispers and stalls for a moment, then slowly steps toward us.
Thank God.
“Wash your hands first, dear,” Dad reminds her, already moving towards the sink on the far side of the room. He’s walking leisurely, but I know he’s secretly determined to beat my mother to it.
“Oh, shoot.” She practically stomps her foot before she joins him. Normally, my Dad would step aside and let my mom go first in just about anything, but not this time. In a matter of seconds, it seems, his hands are clean and he’s drying them off as he steps up to my wife.
“How are you feeling?” He leans down and…hugs her. Not a simple side-hug, either. He wraps both arms around her shoulders and pulls her in, which shocks us both. Ashia’s eyes widen a little, but she doesn’t hesitate to lean in and reciprocate the fatherly affection.
“I feel good, thanks—a little tired and sore.”
My dad pulls back and lays a hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t need to sugarcoat how you’re feeling. A little is an understatement, but you look beautiful.” He moves his loving gaze over to me, sporting a genuine smirk as he stares at the little ball of purity in my arms. “How is she?”
“She’s perfect.”
“Serena told you guys everything?” Ashia double-checks. My mom practically flies from the sink and over to her, pulling her into a strong and forceful hug despite her still-dripping hands.
“Mom, be easy with her,” I growl. When they say opposites attract, they were right when it comes to my parents. While my dad rarely shows any emotion, my mom is full of it.
“Ease up, Leanne. We don’t need to overwhelm them,” my dad backs me up, thankfully.