The Foster Girls #4: Willow

Chapter 23: Decker

All Willow's sisters and brothers-in-law stopped by the hospital the next day bearing flowers and balloons. 

"We dropped off some gifts for Hale at the house. You might need a bigger house," Finland told me with a grin. "Bennett was happy to see us, and Harmony said to let you know he was doing fine. They were getting ready to go for a walk when we arrived."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Thank you, but...didn't you already give her gifts at the shower?"

Harper overheard and joined the conversation. "Well, of course. But those were shower gifts. These were the baby's-been-born-gifts."

Fin nodded. "Soon to be followed by baby's-home-from-the-hospital gifts."

Dominic slid an arm around Finland's waist and pressed a kiss to her head. "Don't fight it, man. The sisters like to give gifts, so they give gifts. All you have to do is fetch and carry them to wherever they need to go."

The sisters all fought over who got to hold Hale first (Elizabeth won), then cooed over him, talking sweetly to their nephew, complimenting Willow on our beautiful boy.

Rig stood beside me, eyes trained on Elizabeth, a smile playing on his face. "She's going to hit you up for another one pretty quick, I bet. Elizabeth started her play for our second baby the minute she got the six-week all-clear from the doctor. Rome and Dom will tell you the same thing about Harper and Finland."

"For all I know, Hale could be our only one," I admitted to him. "She still hasn't decided what we do going forward."

He shot me a look of understanding. "We've all been there. Scary as fuck, but don't give up."

After an hour, when they could see Willow needed to rest, Willow got hugs and kisses, Hale got passed around one last time, and I even got hugs from the women and handshakes and congratulations from the men.

As they were leaving, Rome took me aside. "Word of advice," he said quietly. "Don't ever tell her she's acting crazy because of hormones. And she will. Guaran-fucking-teed. They act normal one minute, and the next, it's like they've been possessed by a motherfucking demon. And when they get like that, you don't say one damn word about it." 

His gaze slid away for a minute, jaw clenched, then he looked me straight in the eye. "Just don't do it, man. Don't ever go there. Trust me on this."

He looked so serious, I just asked, "Not good?"

"Fuck, no," he said. "Not good at all."

Then he clapped me on the shoulder and walked out. I eyed Willow suspiciously. She looked normal. Beautiful, happy, relaxed...not a demon in sight. Then she caught my look, her eyes got squinty and her voice came out kind of...growly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded.

"Sweetheart, I was just thinking how beautiful you look."

Her face softened and she beamed a bright smile at me. Crisis averted. Holy shit. Rome wasn't kidding.

Three days after our son's birth, Willow, Hale and I went home, Fran and Caroline coming with us. I'd asked them to stay for another month, and they said they'd be happy to.

"Easiest money I've ever made," Fran told me baldly. "And your wife's a doll. So, absolutely I'll stay."

Bennett sniffed Hale curiously for a few minutes while I crouched beside my son in his carrier. "That's our boy," I told Bennett. "You watch over him. Protect him. Got it?"

Bennett looked me in the eye and gave a soft woof. He got it.

That night I sat beside Willow on the bed while she nursed Hale, my arm curling around her shoulders, the fingers on my other hand lightly stroking my son's soft hair. She snuggled our boy close to her, and I watched in awe. Was there anything more miraculous than witnessing your child at your wife's breast? We both watched as his eyes slowly fluttered shut and his mouth fell away from her nipple. I took him from her and put him against my shoulder, rubbing his back until I got a big burp from him. He startled awake for a minute, then settled back down when I spoke quietly to him.

I placed our little man in the bed-side sleeper right next to Willow. Bennett was already lying on the floor beside the crib.

"Decker, we need to talk," Willow said to me, in a very serious tone, and my heart pretty much stopped. When has that opening statement ever led to a good conversation?

And she further ensured my heart failure when she plucked the envelope containing our divorce papers off her nightstand and put them on her lap.

Her eyes focused on that envelope as if she couldn't bear to look at me. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, Deck. Thinking about everything we've been through, the lies, the manipulation, the pain...everything. I really didn't feel I had any other option."

I came and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

"Willow, let's not make any decisions right now --"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Decker. There's no sense putting off the inevitable any longer. I'm not going to change my mind."

She pushed the envelope at me and swallowed hard. "Please don't think this was easy for me."

Honestly, I couldn't even form the words for a minute. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

"Can you please check that I didn't miss any signatory lines?"

Sure, as soon as I can see because my eyes are suddenly very wet. She was killing me and there was no doubt I deserved it, but I needed a minute to wrap my head around the fact that I'd lost her for good. We'd always be tied together because of Hale, but she would no longer be my wife. I would have to be on the fringes of her life as a co-parent only, have to watch her fall in love and marry some asshole who would be around Hale more than I would be. Someone who would snap up Willow and treasure her the way I had come to, but way too late to save us.

"Deck?" she called my name softly, questioningly.

Nodding, I cleared my throat and opened the large envelope, pulling out the papers that would sever our connection. My heart stopped again as I looked at the top page.

Written in thick, red Sharpie, were the words I LOVE YOU. I rifled through each page and every one had the same message to me.

"I'm choosing the vase, Decker," she said, looking me in the eye, a gentle smile on her lips. "I'm choosing the vase."

I lunged for her, being careful of her post-partum body, but needing my lips on her mouth and my arms holding her close.

"You about stopped my heart, woman," I said against her lips minutes -- hours? -- later, giving them a small nip. "God, I love you so much. Thank you for believing I could change and for trusting me again."

"I love you, Decker."

I turned so I was lying on the bed and she was nestled into my side, my fingers  sifting through her long hair. We were silent for the longest time, until I shook my head, laughing.

"What?" she asked. 

"When you handed me that envelope...I thought that was it."

I could feel her smile against my chest. "You needed a little fear to remind you of something."

"And what's that?" I asked.

"Never fuck with a Foster girl," she said smugly.

I gave a shout of laughter and gathered my wife, my joy, my love close to my heart where I would hold her forever.