AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We approach the double French doors, and they open before us, so I lift my head to see two women, one whom I recognise as Justine—the midwife who I met before Clay chose an obstetrician.
But the doctor isn’t here…
Not that I can see.
Just two nurses.
On the alfresco, near the spot I first sat and looked out over the gardens, they prepare towels and equipment beside a small ceramic wading pool.
My breath hitches.
He… didn’t.
He said no.
The tears still hanging to the back of my eyes force their way out, rushing my face.
God, what is this?
The entire alfresco is glowing beneath the moon. A cloudless sky gifts us a black dome shimmering in stars.
"It goes against everything I am to take unnecessary risks," he states, lowering me to the ground and holding me until I'm steady on my feet, the pressure inside me dropping even lower. "And to risk you, to risk them, the premise was damn unacceptable. The decision was a simple one." He releases a rough sigh, and I arch my neck to better gaze into his glistening blue eyes. Like the stars. Like my everything. "But you used your voice, sweet girl." He smiles softly. "You told me what you wanted, and I refused you. It has pained me for some time. When I saw your water had broken, I started organising the night meticulously. I called the doctor. The hospital. Organised our driver.
"It was all very practical. I felt myself separating from the moment. Then you shuffled and caught my eye. In that second, my chest, little deer, it hurt so immensely to see you. Not from sadness, of course. And I found myself staring at you still sleeping, unaware. Peaceful. Your dreamcatcher hanging above your head." His voice tightens, his throat rolling over a lump. He’s emotional. He’s showing me… he’s letting me see him. God, it’sperfect.
"Not everything is practical,” he states. “Love, quite frankly, is exceedingly impractical." He smiles smoothly, a real one, one that makes him look half his age. "But every damn thing that people say about being in love is true. It is the only reason we are here." He strokes my face. "Youare the only reason I am here. I was wrong to deny you this, little deer."
Tears burst from me under his attentive gaze. "We're having a home birth, Sir?"
"Under the moon, sweet girl."
"But," I fumble for the words, thrown a little due to his adamance before that'safety comes first, little deer. Share your magic with them later.’
He goes on, "I may not believe in all the things you do, but I believe inyou.And you're going to prove to me that magic exists when you show me what you made for me."
More tears wet my face, so I tease him, "And you have a convoy of cars ready, don't you, Sir? And a doctor on standby? The X-men, too?"
Heactuallylaughs, deep and real and rumbles with the choke of his emotions.It is everything.His deep tone, the moment, the way his eyes are filling further with the glisten of tears. It's everything a girl like me dreams about and everything a girl like me deserves.
"I'm prepared," he states emphatically, amusement still circling his tone. "Let us leave it at that."
* * *
The birth begins with me wading and moving in the small paddling pool, breathing through the long, dull throbs.
The night has given us utter peace. A perfect stage. No machines beeping. No strangers hovering. A silent moment at our house, with Clay and I under the moonlight.
The overhead fairy lights reflect in the water, creating the illusion of my body moving through the stars. It’s so pretty. So magical.
Clay sits beside me, watching with his hands clasped below his chin. If he could take the pain away, I know he would. He’d trade it. Burden someone else, anyone else, but it’s not so bad, really. It’s sweet agony, in a way.
Primal.
When the surges begin to consume me, I lay my forehead and arms over the edge of the pool so Clay’s fingers can stroke through my hair. A fan of blonde floats around me.
“That’s my sweet girl,” Clay coos, his voice strained, hiding concern. “You’re so brave. You’re so strong.”
I bury my sweaty face in my arms. Tensing, my body contracts—God.
