A Home Where I Belong

Then another contraction hit, and I was cursing Nicholas and his sperm. He had me in his arms and inside the car in a flash, the others piling in behind us.

"Squeeze my hand if it hurts. Breathe with me." Nicholas was holding me close, murmuring in my ear while the car zoomed through traffic.

"Where's your father?" Clara asked him. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Probably in a cab somewhere. I ran and didn't wait for them to catch up."

I giggled a little at Clara, who shook her head and pulled out her phone to call Jefferson. Then I remembered where he had been and turned to face him.

"What happened? What did they say?"

"She's out of our lives now."

"What does that mean?"

His eyes hardened and he frowned. "Let's concentrate on this now. I don't want you thinking about that nonsense."

I huffed. "Just tell me."

He looked around at everyone before meeting my gaze again. "Okay. They're pleading her out. Evidently, Simon talked her out of going to trial, wanting to avoid the media circus it would be. She's agreed to plead guilty to first-degree assault in exchange for a decreased prison sentence."

I knew they could have gone up to twenty-five years if she had been found guilty by a jury. But I couldn't deny the idea of not having to testify at a trial was very appealing to me.

"How many years?"

"Ten."

I rubbed my stomach and got lost in my thoughts, while Clara ranted about it not being enough and how it could end up being even shorter with good behavior. Part of me was relieved it was over. Rosemary would be put away, and in the end, neither I nor our baby were irreparably harmed. But another part of me didn't think ten years was enough justice served for her crime.

I leaned against Nicholas and tried to focus on the good part. She would be behind bars and she couldn't touch me. Couldn't touch him. Couldn't touch our child.

The mood of the car was dampened somewhat by the news, but it wasn't long before we were pulling up in front of the hospital and Rosemary was forgotten.

Jefferson was standing there with a smile and a wheelchair when Nicholas helped me out of the car.

"Thank you," I said as I sat down.

He kissed my cheek and handed the reins over to Nicholas, wishing us luck.

Dr. Whitney wasn't kidding when she said she'd get me right in. In fact, it took barely any time at all before I was in a gown, lying in a bed, and hooked to monitors and an IV. She came into the room soon after, her smile bright.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rowe. It seems Baby Rowe can't wait to get out and see you both."

She was poking around between my legs before our responding greetings were out of our mouths. One thing I'd come to realize during my pregnancy was that modesty had to be thrown out the window. It seemed there was constantly someone looking or feeling around at my lady parts.

Nicholas had a lot of company in that department.

"How are the contractions?"

I squeezed Nicholas's hand. "Um... painful?"

She laughed and lifted her head, adjusting my gown back down. "Well, we're not going to wait much longer. The anesthesiologist will be here in a couple of minutes to give you the spinal block and you should be seeing your boy in about twenty minutes."

"I'll be awake during it?"

She nodded. "Yes." Of course, she'd already told me that before, but I wanted to make sure. "Are you both ready?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my head to find Nicholas' pale face watching me. He gave me a smile, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles.

"Yes," we answered at the same time.

After she left, another doctor and more nurses arrived to give me the sedatives, while Nicholas was shuffled out to change into sterile scrubs. I'd lost the feeling in the lower half of my body, but laughed at him in his little blue hat when he returned and sat at my side.

"Don't laugh at me."

"I can't help it. That hat is ridiculous." I looked around. "Where's the camera?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "Nope. If I'm not allowed to film you, then you can't get any pictures of me."

That was one thing I'd made him promise not to do. I didn't want any pictures during the birth, especially since they were cutting me open. I knew I'd pass out if I saw them. The videos we'd watched of cesarean and natural births had made me positively ill. The room was mostly quiet, except for the beeping machines. I sighed and took a deep breath, hesitating with my next words.

"Everything will be fine," I started, squeezing his hand. "But if for some reason there are complications or something bad happens, I just want you to know I love you more than anything. You've given me everything I've ever wanted, and I've never been as happy in my life as I am with you."

He stood and leaned over me, our faces inches apart. His eyes were watery as he kissed me. "Don't you dare give me a goodbye."

"It wasn't a goodbye. It was a just in case."

"Either way." He kissed me again, his lips soft against mine. "Everything is going to be fine. It'll be great. I'm going to have both of you in my arms before this day is out."

And he was right.

As nervous as I'd been for the surgery, it went by quickly and pain-free. Dr. Whitney kept a constant stream of conversation with me, explaining what she was doing. I felt nothing, for the most part, except a slight tugging sensation when she pulled our baby out. She lifted him above the screen so I could see him, and Nicholas left me only to cut the cord.

He was immediately back afterward, tears in his eyes as he kissed my hand and we waited for our son to be cleaned and me to be stitched up.

William Rowe weighed in at seven pounds, two ounces, complete with a headful of dark hair which stuck out from under his little cap, reminding me of his father.

I didn't have the words to explain the feeling of holding him in my arms for the first time. Of smelling his baby smell. Or the first time he opened his eyes. Or the first time he let out a wail and bunched his fists. Or the first time he latched on and took milk from me.

It was precious. Overwhelming. My heart wanted to burst out of my chest as my eyes darted back and forth from Nicholas' glowing face to our son's. As happy as I'd thought I was before didn't even compare to how I felt now.

.

It took four days in the hospital before we were back home again, and each day afterward was an adjustment. Nicholas and I muddled through developing a routine of changings, washings, feedings, and all the other things that went into taking care of a newborn. Although we had plenty of help and advice from our family and friends, it was best when the three of us were together alone.

It was tiring, messy, and at times frustrating, yet I wouldn't have traded a second of it for anything.

I made use of Nicholas' purchase of the breast pump, and the first time I got to watch him holding William in his arms and bottle-feed him made me cry. He was humming, swaying back and forth in the rocking chair, his face plastered with a peaceful smile as he looked down at his son. I ran and grabbed a camera, coming back to take a picture.

I couldn't wait to blow it up and frame it.

Nicholas' head turned at the flash, and he grinned at me. "Hey."

"Hey, you."

"Thank you for this, Willow."

I nodded and put my hand over my heart, watching the two of them together. William always seemed to be happiest in his daddy's arms, and it felt amazing to be able to give Nicholas the opportunity to bond further with him this way.

"Come over here." He held out his arm for me after placing William's empty bottle on the table.

I walked over, surprised when he pulled me down on his lap. I snuggled in with my boys, the three of us rocking together.

Nicholas kissed my hair and squeezed me tight. "I love you."

I sighed and closed my eyes with a smile, savoring my happiness.

It was what I always wanted. A home. A family. To belong.

A year ago, I had no idea what my future would hold. Back then, all I had was sadness and dreams of better things. It was strange the way life's twists and turns took you to places you never imagined. A scholarship mix-up, a crazy proposal, and a massive helping of faith in the love of another had all combined to make me complete.

My world wasn't normal. It wasn't ordinary. But it was everything to me.