Chapter Maddox
Maddox
Eight Months Later
I saw her the moment I stepped into the lobby.
The thick red curls spilling over the collar of her long black coat drew my eye instantly, a familiar beacon in the crowded space. I pushed through the revolving door, abandoning it halfway through as soon as I spotted her properly.
Some things were worth breaking stride for.
“This is a nice surprise,” I murmured as I closed the distance between us, stopping when her heavy belly nestled comfortably between our bodies.
She smiled up at me, that same mischievous warmth still living in her eyes.
“I went out for some food with the girls after work,” she said, tilting her face upward for a kiss.
“Mm,” I hummed, leaning down to kiss my girl.
Her lips were soft and warm, lingering against mine just long enough to make the rest of the lobby fade away.
She was completely different from the quiet young woman who had first stepped into my home months ago. Stella had grown into herself in ways that still caught me off guard sometimes.
At work she had shifted roles within the company while keeping her flexible hours. Instead of sales, she now worked in data and risk—quiet, analytical work that suited her far better. A role that allowed her to breathe instead of constantly performing.
When I’d once suggested she finish her studies, the reaction had been immediate. Sharp. Visceral.
Some scars took longer to heal than others.
And that was alright.
“How’s my other girl?” I asked, pulling back slightly so I could rest my hand against her belly.
Stella’s eyes lit up instantly before softening.
“She’s perfect.”
My thumb brushed over the curve of her stomach, feeling the small, reassuring weight of the life growing there.
“You both are,” I said, sliding my arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the car park. “But I’m biased.”
She laughed quietly and leaned into me as we walked, the cool evening air drifting through the glass doors behind us.
Almost eleven months, and she still managed to consistently surprise me.
?
?
?
“Just answer it,” Stella said as the caller ID flashed across the screen.
“I’m driving,” I replied, attempting to sound justified.
“You’re on hands-free,” she said dryly.
I sighed, tapping the button on my steering wheel while keeping my eyes firmly on the road.
“Hi, Hazel. Maddox is driving right now,” Stella chirped.
“Stella, darling,” Mum crooned through the speakers. “How are you and my granddaughter doing?”
“I’m fine, Mother,” I snapped. “You know. The creator of your darling grandchild.”
“Oh, hush. You had one job, and it took you thirty-odd years of practice before you finally got it right.”
I smirked.
Beside me, Stella scowled.
It turned out she was more jealous of my past than I’d ever been of hers.
“I’m practically on my deathbed and now you finally manage to land one,” Mum continued dramatically.
I stopped at a traffic light and rolled my eyes.
“You’re only sixty-one, Mother. You’ll probably outlive us all.”
“You might be right. I heard about this rejuvenating vaginal cleanse procedure that claims—”
“Too much information, Mum,” I barked, my stomach lurching.
“No, tell me more, Hazel. That sounds absolutely fascinating,” Stella interjected immediately.
I shot her a glare, but someone behind us laid on their horn and I had to turn my attention back to the road instead of violently throwing up all over myself.
“Wait until we get home,” I muttered darkly.
Stella just smiled sweetly, patted my thigh, and joined in with my mother’s madness.
I was absolutely surrounded.
?
?
?
It was late, and Stella had dozed off halfway through a movie she’d been so excited to watch. I didn’t mind. Her head rested on my lap and her belly was within easy reach.
The more I talked to our daughter, the better the chances of getting her on my side.
The final trimester was crucial.
Her brain was undergoing rapid development. The cerebral cortex was beginning to function, the characteristic folds forming as it matured. The split between the left and right hemispheres might even be happening right now while the cerebellum continued to develop.
But more importantly, she should be able to process sound and detect light.
I frowned.
It must be dark in there.
Poor baby.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’ll be out in a couple of months,” I murmured, gently massaging the side of her mother’s belly. “The great escape.”
I frowned again.
Kids had it rough.
First stuck in a ballsack.
Then trapped in a womb.
After that it was a gamble on who your parents were.
I smiled to myself, thinking of my parents bickering the way they always did. My mum had me young, but she went on to study anyway.
My own clients were high-end and demanded absolute privacy. The brain was a remarkable thing, and helping people understand themselves—or simply deal with life—was rewarding work.
Except for the occasional entitlement, I genuinely enjoyed it.
My mother’s endlessly curious mind had eventually led her into sex therapy.
A story of her awakening I’d heard more times than I could count.
I smiled again and stroked Stella’s hair.
Our daughter would be whoever she wanted to be.