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Tears roll down her cheeks as she tips her head and kisses me with desperation. “I love you, Devlyn Templar. Always.”
And until Nurse Tracy reenters the room with our baby girl, we don’t move an inch. Don’t take our eyes off each other.
THIRTY-ONE
SHELLY
Desirée Rose.
God, she is beautiful. The most perfect thing I have seen in my life. Her plump little cheeks. A full head of brown hair. Eyes a hint lighter than my own, although Dr. Webster says both her hair and eyes may change color. Either way, she is flawless. A little piece of me and Devlyn in the sweetest package.
I stare down at our little girl as she suckles my breast and lays her hand on my skin. Soft sounds vibrate from her lips to my skin. Devlyn sits beside me on the hospital bed, his head on my shoulder as he watches her, watches us. Every few seconds, he twists to kiss my shoulder.
“God, how is it possible to love her so much already?” he whispers.
His question resonates deep in my bones because I wonder the same. How it is possible to love someone you just met. And not just love… no, it is much more complex than that. Not something I know how to define. Incomprehensible love.
“Not sure.” I tilt my head and rest it on Devlyn’s. “But I feel it too.”
After four days in the hospital, we finally get to go home today. Of course, we will have a caravan. Since not everyone had the opportunity to come see us in the hospital, and because my labor circumstances were not what anyone expected, we will have visitors at the house on and off for the next few days. Mom already stated she will be at the house more often than not.
For once, I don’t mind. I look forward to having her help. May even ask her to stay the night once or twice. While I feel less mentally foggy, my body still needs more time to recover. Until I heal fully, I can’t lift anything more than one to two pounds, including the baby. Which means, to nurse her, I have to get situated before someone hands her to me.
Dr. Webster assures me I should be better in the next two weeks, then reminds me that everyone heals at different speeds.
Desirée falls asleep with her lips wrapped around my nipple. Slowly, I lower her and Devlyn fixes my gown. Then he drapes a cloth over his shoulder, scoops her up from my arms, rests her against his chest, and bops her up and down as he lightly pats her little back.
I love every side of Devlyn. The quiet and reserved. The passionate and hungry. The gentle and sweet. But seeing this side, watching him hold our daughter, care for her with such tenderness… renders me breathless.
After a soft burp leaves her lips, he carries her to the plastic bassinet and lays her down. He tightens the blanket around her tiny frame before leaning down and kissing her forehead. He whispers something to her, his voice too soft for me to hear, and I don’t ask what. It’s something for just the two of them. A shared moment.
Devlyn helps me up from the bed and leads me to the bathroom. Peeling away the gown and my underwear, he helps me bathe with a small tub of warm water, a cloth and soap that smells sterile like the hospital. He dries me off and helps me into my clothes. Then he brushes my hair and secures it with a hair band. After I brush my teeth, we exit the bathroom and I slip on shoes.
Dr. Webster makes one last stop in the room and reviews our appointments over the next few weeks—for me and the baby. She gives us each a hug and walks out with us after Devlyn secures Desirée in the stroller. The moment we exit the hospital, I stop and take a deep breath.
“You okay?” Devlyn takes my hand in his.
“Yes,” I say on a nod. “Just happy to leave.” Out of nowhere, tears flood my eyes and stream down my face.
Devlyn steers us toward a bench, lowers us to sit, and parks the stroller in front of us. His hands cup my cheeks in an instant. His eyes lock with mine as he searches for the reason for my tears.
“I’ve got you.” His thumbs stroke my cheeks. Scooting closer, he leans in and kisses me chastely. A breath later, he cocoons me in his arms and hugs me tight to his chest. “Always.”
My fingers curl around the cotton of his shirt and ball into tight fists. “I was so scared,” I admit, whispering into the crook of his neck. “It was so dark. At first, I enjoyed the peace that came with the darkness. But after a while…” I shake my head over and over. “I felt empty. Lost.” I sob into the collar of his shirt. “I-I couldn’t find you.” My arms squeeze him impossibly tighter to my frame. “Couldn’t see or hear or smell you.”
“Shh, shh, shh.” One arm tugs me closer. Squishes me to his chest. His other hand strokes my hair, my neck, my back in an effort to soothe the fear in my veins. “It’s over now. You’re here. I’ve got you.” I don’t miss his hushed sniffles and tears on my shoulder. “I was scared too. So scared,” he confesses in a whisper. “Never been more scared in my life.” He leans back and frames my face. His eyes red and veiny and laced with unspoken pain. “If I lost you…” His eyes fall shut as he shakes his head. I wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t.
I press my lips to his. Taste his salty tears on my lips. Breathe in his faded, earthy scent as our lips part. Loosen my hold on him and take a deep breath. I trace the line of his jaw with shaky fingers. The scruff on his jawline the longest I have seen it. The dark half-moons below his eyes less prominent today, but still noticeable.
“Let’s go home,” I whisper.
It isn’t only me that needs to escape the memories of this place over the last few days. I may need to heal physically, but Devlyn needs to heal too. Needs to know I am safe. That Desirée is safe.
And home… home is safe.
* * *
Much as I want time alone with Devlyn and Desirée, I have never been more appreciative of having so many wonderful people in my life.
