Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
For the first time in years, I’m home on New Years’ Eve. Daniela holds up a champagne glass full of sparkling cider, surrounded by our friends.
It didn’t take long to get everyone together with my eagerness to be settled in every way before the baby is born. I want Dani to know she has people who will love her and our child. Even if I don’t have a biological family, I still have a family of my own, and they’re hers now, too.
“Get in here,” she calls for the second time as I open another champagne bottle to fill the empty glasses.
The countdown has started, and I top off every glass as our friends begin to shout. Ten, nine, eight…
I wrap my arms around her belly, loving the sight of her happy and comfortable. We’re in her apartment, still waiting on contractors to remodel the house before we move in.
It’ll be months living together in her tiny apartment, but the baby will come home to our house, and that’s what matters most.
“Happy New Year,” everyone yells, and Dani turns in my arms to face me. She rests her elbows on my shoulders, that sultry smile of hers on her lips.
“Happy New Year,” I whisper, leaning in. “This is the year we become parents.”
I love the way she smiles when I say the things I used to be afraid to tell her. I used to be terrified I’d scare her away if I said how I felt.
Now, I know it soothes her more than anything.
She’s going to be an amazing mother, and I can’t wait to see her blossom.
I love you , she mouths over the chaos of music and talking.
Looking down at her, I feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” I say, leaning in to press my lips to hers.
Time flies when you’re having fun.
It also flies when you’re anticipating a baby coming. But let Dani tell it, she’s been pregnant for years now.
With Dani’s due date looming, I’m spending a lot more time at home, and, thankfully, so is her mother. She cooks, helps Daniela shower, gives me pointers on how to prepare this house for a baby.
And for once, I feel prepared. The nursery is all set up, spring is warming the air, and Dani has resorted to trying to bribe the doctor to induce her. Thankfully, she only laughed as she reassured the love of my life it’s best the baby come naturally.
I can’t picture the baby one way or the other. We still don’t know the gender, and now there’s this quiet hum of excitement at the prospect of either option.
A boy to teach how to cook, how to properly express emotions.
A girl to teach how to change a tire, how to tell mean boys to fuck off.
As we sit together on the couch, watching a movie, giving her mother the rare night off to spend with her husband, I run my hands through her hair, loving how it soothes her. She’s relaxed, and everything feels calm and even.
Suddenly, she jolts up, grunting before announcing she might’ve peed on herself.
“Are you…sure?” I ask. I’ve never experienced pregnancy and childbirth before, but neither has she. The diaper and hospital bags are packed and right by the front door.
But the timing, with her mother not being here, has me freaking out a little, mainly because I don’t know how to handle Dani in extreme pain. What if I make things worse?
She doubles over, grunting again, more liquid streaming from between her legs. “I…” She hisses out a breath. “Yep. I think it’s time.”
She tries to waddle, and I grab her arm, sitting her on the couch.
“I’m leaking,” she whines, but I don’t respond as I get her a fresh nightgown, some underwear, socks, and slippers.
I also grab a sweater for good measure. When I come back downstairs, she’s gasping through another contraction, and I rub her back as I dial her mother’s number.
When she doesn’t answer, I send a text to her and Dani’s dad.
She’s in labor. Meet us at the hospital.
It isn’t like the movies at all. She’s quiet as I undress and dress her again before leading her out to the car. Once seated, she has another contraction, gripping the bar above her door. I grab the bags by the door, happy my overnight bag has been stashed in the car for weeks now.
We head to the hospital, and she tries to talk through the pain. I let her; I’m not going to tell the woman in pain she can’t do something. I just keep rubbing her back and nodding as I try not to do something stupid.
Because she might fucking kill me if I do.
I park the car in emergency parking, and once we get inside, the nurses plop her down in a wheelchair, and we’re flying.
Daniela doesn’t wail the way I thought she would. Rather, she grunts and screws her face when contractions hit. In the middle of one, she whispers my name in the elevator, so I step up, reaching for her hand.
It’s all happening so fast. I just want to do the right thing.
We’re going to have a baby , I think as they lay her down before checking between her legs. There are numbers I don’t understand, and everything is a blur as I’m instructed to stand next to her and support her leg.
I thought birth could take days, but apparently, our baby is eager to make an appearance. I try to whisper encouraging words, gauging her reaction to make sure I’m saying the right thing.
Dani’s face reddens with each push, and at the sound of our baby’s cry, my whole world is upended.
But instead of feeling off kilter, I feel like I’m finally in the right place.