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She shifts her gaze back onto Emmy, avoiding my eyes. I sense her jealousy, though it’s ludicrous given I broke it off with Lane months ago. This is the last thing she should be worrying about.
“You know, Ava. We haven’t had much time to talk in private, but when I said I was falling in love with you a week ago, I meant it.”
Ava releases a breath, then slowly, she glanc
es up until our eyes finally meet.
“I just… ” she trails off, then continues, “… when I see her with you, something stirs within me. I can’t explain it.”
I lower my body, bending my knees until our faces are at the same level. My fingers reach out for her cheek, gently stroking it. Ava sighs softly as I lean in to place a kiss on her lips.
Albeit brief, her kiss is pure and everything I need.
“We’ll work this out, okay? But right now, we need to take our baby home and learn how to raise a child together.”
Ava nods, a slow smile escaping her. “Mom said my apartment is ready. Your mom helped her wash all the baby clothes and set up the diaper table.”
“That sounds like Mom,” I tell her while grinning. “So, Monday is the big day. I’ll try to swap my shift so we can leave together. How does that sound?”
Ava touches my face, never breaking her gaze. “It sounds perfect, Austin.”
I stay for a few minutes before my pager goes off. The emergency beeping means they need me downstairs immediately.
“I have to go,” I quickly advise, despite my desperate need to go home and sleep. “Sorry, they’ve got multiple trauma cases arriving.”
“Go,” she says, then leans over to kiss me one more time. “Do what you need to do. Emmy and I will be just fine.”
Standing up to leave, I stop, then lean down to kiss her one more time.
“Keep thinking the things you’re thinking,” I whisper with a simper.
Ava grins knowingly. “I will, Dr. Carter. Promise I won’t stop.”
Twenty-Three
Ava
Everything I have ever learned about being a mother up to this point is a lie.
The movies, the articles, and even these stupid books which people insisted I read.
No one tells you what happens after you give birth. First, there are the stitches down below and the mere thought of a needle being used to sew up a vagina. There’s the struggle to use the toilet, worried you’ll tear something. Then, to the airplane-sized pads you’re forced to wear because of the continuous bleeding.
As someone who has only experienced light menstrual bleeding, this is a shock in itself.
The body aches, and my limbs are sore. And let's not forget my breasts—they’re enormous. My nipples look like they belong on a cover of National Geographic. All I’m missing is a grass skirt and a jungle background.
Another thing people forget to disclose is when your milk comes in, it is excruciating, and there is no other way to explain it. One minute, I’m barely able to squeeze the colostrum from them. To the next, they’re pouring out like an overflowing river of milk.
It means my diet had to change because everything I eat or drink is passed onto Emmy.
But aside from my body feeling like a punching bag, Emmy has decided that sleeping at night is for the weak.
Why sleep when you can cry instead?
The nights are the hardest, feeding in solitude while trying not to fall asleep at the same time. She doesn’t wake up just once a night but more like four to five times. The longest stretch of sleep is from four in the morning to about seven. Three glorious straight hours of sleep before the sun rises and we’re up again.
I lose track of days, almost every day feeling like Groundhog Day.
