The midwives came soon after to measure and weigh my baby boy. They took foot prints and handprints, then handed him back to me to dress him in some donated dolls clothes. He was still perfect.
They wheeled in something they called a cuddle cot, to place him in. It was a freezer masquerading as a bassinet. But it kept him close.
“What’s his name?” they asked. I thought deeply. Blaze had been adamant that his son would carry his name, just like his father and grandfather. The first son born always carried the name on. It was ironic that the name was similar to the prospect who had supported me and actually deserved the honour of passing his name down to a child.
“James Paul Lovelace,” I announced. I’ll keep everyone happy with that one. Blaze gets his dead son named after him. He passed his name onto his first born son as he wished. Now that legacy would end with my baby, and Blaze wasn’t here to complain. But I also commemorated Jim in my heart.
I heard Jim typing away on the phone, and I looked at him.
“Just letting Bull know the details. He can let Blaze know once he gets himself cleaned up.”
I looked at Jim, and he sighed. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you didn’t,” I agreed. “Jim, thanks…thanks for supporting me. I’m sorry you were burdened with this, but I’m glad you were here. I’m not sure I could have done this alone.”
Jim’s face softened. “You are so strong. It was a privilege. Thanks for letting me support you, and for not kicking me out of the room.”
He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “You’re an amazing woman, and you deserve better than this,” he whispered.
I started crying again, deep tears of loss. Jim folded his arms around me and our baby, and he held me gently. I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat until I fell asleep, hoping for once that Blaze took all night.
* * *
A while later, I was lying in a private room with Baby James in the cuddle cot beside me. Jim had finally taken off, assuring me that a bag of clothes was coming, courtesy of Janie, when Blaze finally turned up.
Blaze paused at the cot and gazed at his son.
“He’s called James Paul Lovelace, as you wanted,” I broke the silence coldly. He shifted the flowers into the hand with the gift bag and reached in to pick Baby James up. Baby James fit in one hand, his head neatly resting on the top of his father’s finger tips, and his bum in his palm.
“My son,” Blaze groaned. He glanced at me. “Do they know what happened? Why your contractions started?”
“They said placental abruption. It’s where the placenta starts coming away from the uterus. They can usually save the baby if the mum can get to the hospital quickly,” I replied dryly.
He swallowed and looked back at his son.
“He’s beautiful,” he hummed, shrugging off my subtle accusation before moving over to sit on the bed.
“Sorry I didn’t make it.” He held out the flowers and gift bag. “I’ll do better next time.”
“Next time?” I scoffed. “He’s dead, Blaze. There won’t be a next time.” Blaze was still staring at Baby James, ignoring my warning tone. I sighed, giving up. The contrast between Blaze and Jim was huge. I wanted Jim. I wanted a man who would be there for me, and I was stuck with this loser.
Blaze finally noticed that I hadn’t taken the flowers from his hand, or the gift bag that was dangling from a finger. He glanced at me with a worried look on his face.
“Was she worth it?” I asked. A look of guilt crossed his face as he snapped his eyes back to his son. “I knew you screwed the town girls. I just thought I was more important, or at least our child was more important”
He didn’t say anything. He opened his mouth a few times, then thought better of it. I relented and took the gift bag and looked inside. There was a slim box there containing a bracelet. It was gorgeous and glittery, but it was just bling. I put it down beside the flowers that he’d dropped on the bed, and I took a deep breath.
“It’s not enough, Blaze. I deserve better. We,” I said, pointing between Baby James and myself. “We deserved better. You should have been here.”
Blaze continued staring at his son. He didn’t reply. I shook my head and moved the flowers and gift onto the bedside table. Then I rolled over to sleep with my back to him, my nose buried in the spot where Jim had sat.
2
Chapter 2: Blaze
I should have known. When a woman who calls herself Delilah strides over to you and sinks into your lap to press her obviously naked pussy against you, you have lost control and are just along for the ride…and I enjoyed a free ride.
To be fair, there were a few girls like Delilah. They weren’t traditional club girls, we didn’t have those. Just local town girls who wanted to walk on the wild side, and the clubhouse was the perfect venue for that. There were plenty of men willing to accommodate these girls, and I’ll admit that I was one of them.
