Page 82 of The Virgin Playboy

“What about your friends? What about your family?”

“Okay, and what about them?”

“Won't you miss them?”

“Not any more than you miss yours. Besides, I think my folks would think it was good for me. We could always host them every few months. My parents love traveling, and they're just looking for an excuse to go there. Plus, I’ve never lived outside my home country before. You’ve done it, so now I want to do it.”

“Well, I wouldn't want them to feel like I was taking their daughter away. I want us to all feel connected.” Speaking of connected…

“It's funny you should mention that. I had some things I wanted you to look over. No rush or anything, but look through it and tell me if there's anything you'd like to amend,” I said, handing him a packet, as he furrowed his brows confused. Pulling out the papers, his eyes widened at its contents.

“A prenuptial agreement? Wait Jaq, are you trying to get married? Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?” he beamed, as I tucked a strand behind my ear theatrically.

“I mean, you are a billionaire, and I'm just a girl trying to secure her future. I'm joking. Maybe I'm joking?” I said as more of a question. “I know you have this vision of doing things a certain way, and I get it with how you grew up. But I mean, I'm already having a baby, might as well be all in.” I left out the little tidbit that my folks were already referring to him as my husband. Because one thing they weren't going to do, was promote their forty-two-year-old daughter out of wedlock. My mouth dropped when he ripped the stapled papers in half.

“Jaq, we don't need a prenup.”

“Yeah, but I was just taking into account that you're worth way more than me. If something happens, I wasn't trying to take you to the cleaners.”

“If something happens?” he questioned. “I hate to break it to you, Jaq, you're stuck with me. But maybe we can wait until after the baby comes? It might feel like too much good news and celebrating at once. We should give people time to recharge and recover.” That was great, because I already knew the ring I wanted. I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Okay, maybe I'm kidding.

Picking up his ukulele nearby, he retreated back to the footstool, instructing me to relax so he could sing to the baby. Soothing crooning in his mother tongue helped me detach from my worries, and for the first time today, the person growing inside me seemed to relax to the sound of her dad’s singing. He thought it was a girl, but since we didn’t do a gender reveal, it was hard to be sure. But in his heart, he felt it was a girl, so we’d already started referring to her that way. Maybe in the beginning I had my doubts, but as much as this kid kicked around when they heard songs, I really felt like she was going to be a Melody.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Jaq

“Babe…babe,” Graham grimaced, trying to keep his composure. “I'm losing circulation, Jaq, you’re really hurting my hand⁠—”

“Well, this baby is hurting my fucking vagina, and you don't see me complaining!” I snapped back, finally letting go. Then I had to remember, that while my own mother didn't care, Marāma wasn't huge on swearing.

“I'm really sorry, Marāma, but this just effing hurts! Graham, how the hell did I convince you to let me do this?” I screamed.

“You're doing fine, my love,” Marāma coached, rubbing my shoulders. “Your body is in crisis, but it's learning on its own what to do.

“If it makes you feel any better, baby, you're crowning. If anything, that means the worst is over,” Graham splashed around, adjusting himself until my back was against his chest. I thought experiencing a water birth would be way more soothing and personal than being in a hospital, but the hospital did have a lot of benefits.

“Says the man who doesn't feel a ring of fire between his legs. Oh my god, why did I turn down a hospital birth? What I wouldn't give for some drugs! Molly, percosets.” I was well aware that all the pain that I was in was of my choice, and I'm sure in time it’d feel like a distant memory, but in the moment, giving birth at home was…an experience. I could see why my mom was a one and done. It was a miracle what the body was capable of, but damn. Did childbirth have to be this painful? Couldn't have science, for all carrying to term put you through, offer a nice neural blocker during the duration, or something? People really did this two, three, sometimes four, or more times?

“You're doing so good, baby, you're almost there,” Graham soothed his palms along my shoulders, but no amount of pushing made me relax.

“Jacqueline, maybe you should try standing up again?” My mom suggested. “Or getting on all fours helps. It puts less pressure on your back, and the baby will rotate easier through the birth canal⁠—”

“Getting on all fours is what got me here in the first place!” I joked.

“The worst part is the shoulders,” I heard someone say, but for the life of me, I couldn't tell who it was over all my screaming.

“I know it hurts, Jacqueline, but you just need to push a little more.” That I could tell was still Graham. He was the only male voice still in the room.

“It feels like I've been pushing for hours,” I hopelessly yelled to no one in particular.

“You don't have to push so hard. Once you get past the shoulders, the baby will naturally feel its way out,” as I could finally make out that it was my doula. I know they were all supporting me and all, but being coached to do something that was literally draining me was like the equivalent of getting jumped into a gang.

I know it was the pain talking, but I just really wanted to slug everyone in the room. A scream of relief released as I felt and guided the shape out, the searing shock of it all leaving me as limp as spaghetti. My doula helped guide the baby to my chest to create that first bond, but insisted I still had a ways to go. “You're not out of the park yet. There's still the afterbirth.”

“Now I gotta go through an afterbirth, too?” I whined.

“Baby, it's just a placenta. Much easier than the first part,” Graham comforted.