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Dad goes along with her, leaving Jada and I to sit in the birthplace waiting area.
I bounce my leg, nervous as hell. “Do you think the baby is okay? She was groaning a lot?”
Jada places a reassuring hand on my knee and smiles. “Having a baby isn’t a delight from what I hear. I’m sure everything will be just fine. Try not to worry too much, okay?”
I nod, taking a deep breath.
We sit in silence for a few moments before she speaks up again.
Licking her lips nervously, her tone shifts. “You know, this whole thing is bittersweet. I’m so happy for your dad and Shiloh, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little envious.”
She looks down, fiddling with the zipper on her leather purse. “Armor and I have been trying for a baby with no luck. I just want to be a mother so bad. We had a miscarriage not too long ago, and since then I’ve been terrified we won’t be able to have children.”
I squeeze her hand supportively, unable to imagine the pain she’s going through. “I'm so sorry. I know there’s not anything I can say right now that will make it better, but, just don't lose hope. Your time will come and when it does you’re going to make an amazing mother.”
She shoots me a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Oak. That’s very kind of you to say.”
She can say it’s kind, but it’s not.
I’m being honest with her.
She is going to make the greatest mother in the whole fucking world.
I didn’t just miss out on my dad being there growing up, I missed out on his entire side of the family.
God, I would have loved to have her by my side in times where I needed a strong, supportive woman to get advice from.
That’s how I know she’s going to make a great mother, because she’s so nurturing and supportive.
Everyone’s lives are starting to settle down, and I hope mine does too.
All I want is for my father to accept I’m happy, and that Razor isn’t the monster he’s painted him to be.
19
Razor
Three weeks crawl by, each day slower than the last.
Oakleigh was gone for a little over two weeks, spending time with her father, stepmother, and new baby sister Naomi.
Since then, I’ve noticed something’s different about her.
She’s not her usual fiery self, she’s being overly quiet, and a bit distant.
Part of me worries her father said something to force some space between us, but I can’t be too certain.
She hasn’t mentioned anything to me, and I’m not sure if bringing it up will be a good idea, or a bad one.
I change into a fresh set of clothes while I make it a point to pick up my dirty ones off the floor.
Before she left she was getting on my case about me leaving my clothes on the floor when I change out of them.
I toss them in the hamper and stop in front of the mirror, giving myself one last look.
My beard’s a little unkempt, so I run a brush through it.
Leaving our bedroom, I’m as good as new.
