AllFreeNovel
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Standing alonein the middle of our dance studio, wearing nothing but my white cotton underwear, I stare at my reflection in the row of mirrors before me. My hair hangs loose over my shoulders, as spots of colour sit high on my cheeks. My eyes are bright from a rested sleep, and my lips are parted on a contented breath as I rest my hands on my stomach, fingers feathering over my skin.
I see it.
That glow.
Just like Cynthia had said.
My happiness seeps from the inside out. It’s buried deep inside my womb, a tiny beating heart within a tiny forming body.
My baby.Ourbaby.
Our precious little nugget.
“I love you so much,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to my stomach, feeling infinitely stronger for carrying our precious cargo despite how tired I’ve been feeling these past few weeks.
There’s a strength in knowing what my body is creating, and I know that I can deal with more sickness and fatigue, more headaches and lightheadedness knowing what it’s all for. My fingertips brush over my abdomen as I stare at my reflection, both stunned and happy that I'm carrying this new life.
“You’ll be so loved. So adored by so many people. You have four dads who will protect and love you as fiercely as they do me. Together we will teach you what it means to be happy. Truly, deeply, joyously happy,” I say vehemently. “You will never need to fear us. I willneverhurt you. Not ever, sweet baby. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms, to sing you lullabies, to make you smile, and laugh. I can’t wait to teach you how to talk, to walk, todance.”
I laugh then, happy tears pricking my eyes at the thought.
“For now, little nugget, I’ll dance with you encased safely in my womb, and through our shared blood, and the beats of my heart you will know what it means to find your true joy in life.” With one last glimpse at myself in the mirror, I say, “PlaySay You Won’t Let Goby James Arthur.”
As the guitar intro begins, I close my eyes, swaying my body to the beat. I don’t think about the steps, I just feel the music as it guides me to move. With no other thought in my head other than wanting to dance, I rise up onto the balls of my feet, twirling slowly in a circle, my arms floating at my side just like I remember doing when I was a child imitating a prima ballerina.
The lyrics soon join the music as James Arthur's soulful voice sings about two kids experiencing their first, undeniable stirrings of love. It reminds me of that night I stepped into 15 Jackson street, meeting the Breakers for the very first time, how fate had brought me to their door, and how over time, we formed a deep and everlasting love.
As I sway to the rhythm, my thoughts wander to all the things that I want to teach my child, and the wonderful experiences I hope to share with them. I know that they will grow up to be brave, kind, and full of adventure. I pray that they never lose sight of their dreams and most of all, I want them to find the same soul-deep love that their fathers and I share with each other.
With those thoughts brimming inside of me, I glide across the floor as I spin and twirl like a dandelion seed blown across a field, just like those wishes I’d made on a childish breath. And even though my little nugget is too small for me to feel, I imagine her dancing within me, our hearts beating in perfect sync.
Throwing my arms wide, I run then jump into a split leap, floating through the air momentarily, the studio blurring around me as I’m transported to another place, a place where I’m lost in the magic of the music and my dreams for the future.
Landing on the warm wood, I rock on my feet, imagining that I’m holding a beautiful baby girl with dark curly hair in my arms. She’s smiling up at me as I stare down at her, her perfect rosebud mouth parted on a soft breath.
Then as my arms fall away, I take a few steps forward, my hand reaching out to the side as I look down at the sweet, innocent smile of a toddler sliding her palm into mine. With each step, that child grows into a small child then a headstrong teenager who breaks away from the love of her parents to find out who she is. Performing a pirouette, I imagine her life unfurling around me like images in a zoetrope. With every turn she grows from a toddler, to a child, to a teenager into a confident young woman travelling the world, experiencing all it has to offer. I see her experiencing the hills and valleys of what it means to fall in love. I see her pursuing her own dreams and building her own family as she finds her place in the world. With every pirouette she blossoms into a fiercely independent, passionate woman with her whole future waiting for her.
A little breathless, my steps falter, and I swear I see the ghost of my grown up daughter staring right back at me. A mirror image in so many ways. She smiles, and I lift my hand, cupping her ghostly cheek.
“Tiny?”
Behind me Xeno rests his hand on my shoulder, and the moment of magic dissipates. Our daughter disappears, but instead of feeling bereft, I only feel utter contentment and joy as I focus on the men I love as they stand behind me.
“You were somewhere else there for a moment. Are you okay?” he asks, pressing his lips against my bare shoulder.
I meet his gaze in the mirror, my heart tightening with love as I look from him to Dax, to York then Zayn. All four of them are still in their sleepwear, bare-chested, hair mussed up from sleep, completely relaxed, utterly beautiful, and wholly mine.
“I just needed to… dance,” I say, placing my hand over Xeno’s as he rests it on my stomach. “Can we join you?” Zayn asks, stepping in front of me, his hands resting on my hips as I lean my head back against Xeno’s chest and look up at him.
“Of course,” I whisper as they look at each other above my head, an unspoken agreement passing between them.
Zayn steps closer as my free hand travels up his scarred chest, the tiny silver slashes of healed skin a constant reminder of the trauma he’s been through. All those knife fights he was forced to partake in because his uncle was a cruel bastard who ruled the Skins with an iron fist. Thank god that’s all in the past now.
With one hand pressed against Xeno’s on my stomach and the other wrapped in Zayn’s over his heart, the three of us begin to dance. I’m caught between the two of them, held in their warmth, connected by our touch as we move together, gently swaying our hips. Beside us, York and Dax watch on. They don’t try to intervene, they simply watch and wait, knowing that my time to dance with them will come soon. We have a rhythm, the five of us, a way of existing that encourages all of us to be ourselves without judgement or criticism. We take turns leading and supporting as needed, both in how we dance, and how we choose to live our lives.
It's what I love most about us as a family unit. There is grace, understanding, and a deep unyielding love for one another that cannot be broken no matter what life throws at us. I may be the centre of this family, but the four of them are the cornerstones. Without each other we'd crumble.
“Last night whilst you were sleeping, we talked,” Zayn says, releasing my hip, and twirling me in their arms so that I face Xeno now.
