One String Attached

69.

.Riley.

"Hey, sweetheart," James says, leaning over the top of the cot Autumn lay inside in the room of the hospital.
The nurse and doctor had left the room to go and print out some copies of a few files and to receive the tests they had taken. Piper was outside still, watching over my things and the buggy.

James brushes his finger over the top of Autumn's cheek and he pecks her forehead before tilting his head around to face me.

I sat on the chair in the room, my legs pressed together while my hands were clasped over the top of my kneecaps and a look of concern was drawn across my face. James and I hadn't spoken to each other in a while. I didn't know how to feel about being in a room alone with him with the quiet of our daughter between us.

"Can I hold her, or does she need to be kept there whilst they run the tests?" he asks me, his tone soft and light, not wanting to push me over the edge considering the circumstances.

"No, no," I answer quickly, swiping away a few locks of my hair. I was beginning to overthink again on the inside, not sure of what to say to him to not make either of us more frustrated with each other than we are now.
"You can hold her," I whisper. 

He sends me a small smile - one so tiny, it was strange to see coming from him, but at the same time, it was genuine. 

We were trying here. We weren't about to give up on our marriage and everything we've built in the past thirteen years over some random woman he slept with and the creepy ex of mine who doesn't seem to want to leave me alone. 

He reaches down and takes Autumn out of the cradle before lifting her up in the air, his hands on her waist while he hold our baby above his head so that she looked down at him.
He was the only one who really ever managed to put a smile on her face, and my point is proven when she moves her thumb to between her lips and begins to suck on it, her eyes widening at the sight of her father.

I don't know what the reason for it was but it was like she had a stronger connection with James than she did with me, and it was just like that with Aaliyah. It makes me feel useless.

When people blame me for having a favourite child and apparently being closer to Asher, I know why it might seem like that.

Everyone knows he's a Mummy's boy and I seem to fuss over him the most. But it's not that he's my favourite - I don't have a favourite child, they're all my babies in my eyes. It's just that with Asher, he and I have always seemed to have a deeper connection than I've ever had with the girls.

With Aut and Liyah, I felt useless.
I feel useless right now, watching my husband gently throw our third child up and down in the air. 

At least with Asher, I got to feel some kind of warmth from him. Some kind of motherly love, just when he was born. It's something I haven't had the chance to experience with either one of my daughter's, no matter how hard I try.

"What do the kids love about you that they don't love about me?" I speak up before I could even register what I was saying.

At the sound of my voice, James's moves come to a halt and he pauses, firmly holding Autumn in his arms, his hand over the back of her head which rested sideways against his chest.
He turns his head around to look at me, and when he does, I quiver slightly.

"What?" he whispers back, probably stunned about the fact that I was actually talk to him properly.

I let out a shaky breath, my knees vibrating a little while I tried to keep to myself but failed to. All I wanted right now was for my daughter to be okay. For her to snap back into things and do what she does with James but with me instead.
I want her to look at me and have that beautiful smile appear on her face. I want her to reach her arms out to me, to gesture for my touch, to giggle lightly, to hold my hand. I want my baby girl to want to want me like I want her.

I sniffle, blinking to hold back the tears in my eyes.

It's not fair.

James gets the easy life. Everything with him is great. He has the perfect family - supportive parents to match. He has kids who love him. He's able to provide for them without ever feeling guilty. He's got a stable job, a good home life, he had a childhood full of love and care.

Meanwhile I went through a childhood which was fuelled by divorce. I was used at the age of nineteen and fell pregnant at the age of twenty. I have three children - two of which seem to have a problem with me. I have an abusive ex who's forever trying to harm my kids and I have two parents who never even bother to check in on me.

The only good and stable thing about my life was my marriage but that's floating in the deep end, surrounded by a tonne of rocks.
In fact, the one bad thing I could point out about James's own life is that he has me as a wife.

"Riley," he whispers, catching onto how I had drifted away from the room and surrounded myself with my own thoughts. 

He turns his body around completely to make his way over to me and reaches his hand out towards me, openly asking for me to take it but I quickly tilt my head to the side to avoid eye-contact with him and look away.

In that exact moment, the door swings open, revealing the doctor who held a couple of papers in his hands, and very shortly the nurse enters the room too. As soon as they do, I spring up onto my feet and look at them urgently.

The doctor shuffles the papers, looking between us all, before his gaze remains still on James for a while. "Dad, I presume?" he asks, and he nods his head in response, still cradling our daughter in his arms.
"I have news," he tells us both, making my ears perk up a little, needing to hear exactly what he had to say.

James turns his head to look at me and then I watch as he puts his arm out. I look down at his arm and how his hand gestured for me to move closer to him, then I look up at his face which had softened. He was calling me over now. Not just because I might need him, but because he needed me.

With that thought in mind, I sigh before shaking my head.
Fuck it.

I take those two steps towards him, allowing him to wrap a single arm around my body. His fingers inch around my waist lightly while I placed my hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly.
Then I look up at the doctor in desperation.

"What kind of news?" I ask, moving my spare hand to Autumn's back and placing it on top of James's own curved knuckles.

"You might want to take a seat again," he tells us both, causing James and I to share a worried glance.