the moment we've all been waiting for...
pass me tissues, please!!
* 33 weeks preggo *
There were many instances these last couple of months when I could see this day so perfectly. Moments of clarity from my doubtful nights spiraling when my hands would brace each side of my bump and I could picture this day unraveling the way I always dreamed of.
It would've been a sunny day – no, a partially cloudy one, because nothing about this whole journey has been close to perfect, regardless of how good it might've seemed on paper.
My water would've in all likelihood broken while brushing my teeth, sending Harry into a fit of stress to begin with thinking that whatever was wetting his feet as he stood behind me brushing his own teeth had been a result of a broken pipe from under the sink, until it would eventually hit him.
The drive to the hospital would be filled with frantic calls from my end to my doctor while Harry was all nonchalant to my mental crisis, drowning out the engine's revving in the heavy California traffic with some Bowie jams and drawing hearts with his thumb over my skin. A nervous smile would crack his face every once in a while when it would crash over him the realization that we'd become parents sooner than expected.
Harry wouldn't have left my side for even a single second, insisting every nurse they had to double and triple check how many centimeters I was dilated because he was certain there was no reason I should be in such pain regardless if there was a literal human pushing his way out of my body.
He would be standing over the line drawn between being acutely aware of how traumatic the pain was for me, and oblivious to why I had to be dragged through the pits of hell to bring something so beautiful into our lives.
The dream was short lived, as if I'd been woken up abruptly just as the unspoken promise was getting good. Like many times before, life had a fucked up way of mocking my ass in the most unprecedented moments.
There really were so many ideas of how I'd start my labor and delivery story whenever it would come up in some future conversations, some of which I'd enable and pull out every nitty and gritty detail about how life altering it was and how it was the best day of my life, despite how cliché it sounded when thinking out loud.
It'd be a story I'd tell with pictures like any annoying mother would, whether that be retelling everything that was happening behind the camera in the moment, or painting you a vivid image of the whole day with big words you'd probably find in a classy dictionary or the Google search engine.
One of the multiple images — my favorite — was scattered with so many timid hearts swirling the expanse of my bump, those of which I can only credit the other half of my firstborn when he was the one responsible for drawing so many I could still see in my imagination from how much he'd do it in his free time or any chance he got to be in my vicinity.
It wouldn't have taken a lot to recognize the trouble behind Harry's eyes the second he hit that answer button this morning. The hurt in his voice when avoiding saying the same words he'd promise himself he'd never spew were probably right up there with my contractions, which are monumentally the most unpleasant form of torture any human could ever endure.
After Hunter broke over two dozen laws driving us to the hospital, he waited until I was admitted for him to drive back to the precinct after getting another call about Harry's case again, and reluctantly left me and Ember alone in the same shivering emergency room our best friend was wheeled in just merely two weeks ago.
Just Ember and I. The same way it all started.
"One more chip, Bo." She waves the spoon in front of my face for the hundredth time this last hour, failing to grab my attention when the growing clouds outside the quaint room kept me in a daze. "We barely ate breakfast before this and you gotta stay hydrated."
"I'm good." Had been the same two syllables that left my mouth on their own accord. I barely even processed if they were true long enough before they let themselves out.
Hunter, being the saint he is, explained all the details about Harry's charges after I begged him to put his mercy for me aside and to save himself the pity party for me when I wasn't having it for myself either.
We hadn't received any more calls from the precinct even hours after the morning bled into noon. Word had gone around faster than any of us could anticipate, though. Not that we were, anyways, much like a second phone call that never rang through and disappointed anyone but me. If there's anyone that was sure it wasn't gonna come through, it was me.
I wasn't trying to be negative. I knew there was no use in me plastering a frown on my face and resisting to push this baby out just to make it harder for everyone involved and potentially harm myself and Arlo in the process.
Hunter was always the one between the both of us to know how to lead a group in a moment of panic from the moment I understood what feelings were and how to navigate through them. I'm sure if it'd been the opposite and he lacked common sense or tranquility, not only would my world fucking crumble, but the first thing he'd done was haul me over his shoulder like a potato sack and bolt into that ER demanding I get medical assistance without even giving thought to the fact that I'm seven and a half months pregnant.
He was calm, he always was. Him and Ember had been polar opposite ends and influences of my own personality for most of my life, but I couldn't be more grateful for how they both seemed to be on the same level of controlled panic for my sake.
Thankfully, the second the hospital doors split open, Hunter carried me inside bridal style with Ember right on his tail holding onto the bottom of his shirt for dear life in fear of falling behind while also being brave enough to hold onto my hand on every stop he made in case I had another wash of pain while waiting to be admitted.
The room was just like any delivery room I'd read about in books, seen in movies, even YouTube videos. Harry and I failed to book a birthing class, and while I can only blame myself for losing that incredibly important detail in my journey, the nurses were kind enough to educate me about all the necessary information I needed to know besides everything Fran had given me up until this point.
Was I ready? I wasn't sure. Although I'd only been heavily working with my fertility issues for about four years now, I'd been preparing for this day for my whole life. My situation wasn't your most favorable or likely to be in, but nothing about my life has ever been likely or something people romanticized over as they grew older.
Much like the weather today, the sun was nowhere to be found unless it was too late.
I yearned to experience the purest form of love a person could bear. I'd say Harry already did so, but I like to think he was just another helping hand in scattering it all throughout our time together and amounting enough for all three of us in preparation for the big day.
Today.
He'd want me to be strong for him. He'd want me to bring Arlo home healthy and cherish the memory of us all together, even if he won't be there to witness our baby passing through the threshold of the place that breathed so much life into me while I grew ours in my womb.
I kept repeating this like a broken record or a mindless chant to whatever was willing to listen to keep myself sane for his sake, and mine as well. But in my current list of priorities, I was clearly not at the very top. Not when I was refusing to eat any ice chips as if gaslighting me into believing it would help with my hunger was going to work in any reality.
My patience was close to snapping at this rate.
Three centimeters dilated and a cup of melting ice chips was my limit, apparently. What once used to be Harry's stupid bickering when we met, we've finally reached a new record, it seems.
"Alrighty then," Ember's composure and patience with me was admirable. She put down the cup and gestured towards my busy hands. "Talk to me about this tiny thing. What's this?"
At this I peered down where my hands had paused their work and resumed at her words. Both hooks overlapped each other every few seconds with a new stitch on a practiced pattern I'd done multiple times before, but not in this kind of style.
"None of his sweaters will fit him anymore." I shrugged. "For another while, at least. I'm making him a smaller version of the sweater I made for him a while back he could wear when I bring him home."
Time was racing and I was stressing over the fact that Arlo wouldn't have anything to fit him now that he was coming much earlier than anticipated. Ember had offered to run and try to snag any preemie clothing article could find to compensate for a bit while he grows into everything we had for him at home, but I thought it'd be best to just wait it out until he's actually here and not run on a limb when chances he'll be in the NICU for a few weeks are big.
"Hearts are your theme?" Her lips curled up into a shy smile, looking for anything to distract me from the obvious absence of the one person I would rip the city apart to have here with me.
"The old one had a bunny in it too, but the nurses couldn't find any more white yarn."
When I was admitted, one of the nurses turned out to be one of the girls who volunteers at the same fertility clinic Fran works at and was the first time and knew about Harry. She'd asked if he was on his way, and while Hunter was confused at first, figuring it was just another fan, he quickly brushed it off when she threw the government name out.
I couldn't bring myself to answer her question, and thankfully Hunter stepped up and told her he wasn't going to be able to make it and I'd be with him and Ember instead. News spread quickly amongst the nurses, and I have no idea how they found out about my love for crocheting, but they had found some old hooks and yarn they had in their break room and brought it to me.
I had a hunch it had to do with Hunter asking one of the nurses in hopes to keep me distracted in his absence as well, something that only took me back to whenever he would do so in my childhood as he dealt with my parents behind my back.
Silence stretched out for longer than any of us could count, another perfected heart coming into view after my previous stitch before moving onto the next. Sure, the pain was excruciating, but I found myself basking in the tiny moments in between every contraction to focus on my breathing and ground myself the best I could.
"Are you planning on doing the epidural Fran mentioned?" It was the first thing mentioned in the call to Fran right after asking if there was any bleeding or discomfort other than the very obvious from my cervix bursting at the seams.
"I think? I-" I bit my quivering lip. "I don't even know anything anymore."
"That's okay." Em stroked my arm comfortingly, her voice merrier. "You're still just starting out, you have more than enough time-"
"God please don't remind me this is only just the beginning." I groaned, my head falling back against the pillow as my hands slumped over my lap. "He isn't even that big to begin with, why does this make dragging my cooch over burning pavement look like a breeze?"
"Are we still talking about the baby?"
My vision shifts back to my best friend's strained voice, and as expected, her face is beet red from saving her laugh to herself at my dead glare. To her misfortune in scenarios like this, Ember's always been one to give into her fit of giggles with most of her jokes, even when they aren't as promising. Any other moment I would've joined her, maybe even further the joke along with a worse one myself, but today?
"Tough crowd." She nodded, folding her lips regretfully. "Gotcha."
"Has anybody checked on Dash?" My worry causes me to drop and ignore my current task, hissing at a sharp cramp that hits me as I straighten out my spine. "I didn't think we'd be gone all day, he-"
"-is doing perfectly fine under Zayn's care." She brushed my concern away. "I think Zayn needed it more than we think to take care of him one last time as an only child."
After Z got discharged, he was under strict doctor's orders that he shouldn't be putting too much pressure on himself to be up on his feet as quick as he'd love, meaning he moves around either by crutches or a wheelchair if he wants to be up to speed with everyone else in public spaces. He'd have to go under some serious physical therapy to recover the muscle strength in his legs for another while, but just the knowledge that he made it out to see another day is enough to make us breathe a little easier.
His wheelchair has been his biggest relief and Ember's biggest stress inducer. He just recently figured out how to do some tricks on it and it has her sleeping with one eye open every single night. I'm sure my situation isn't helping her nerves any less, but I figure Dash is good enough emotional therapy for any human who comes across him, and also take some stress off her shoulders.
"Look what he sent me when we pulled up here." Her body rotates when she pulls her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through a few text updates she keeps receiving from everyone and finds a picture of my first baby curled up by the end of the hall right up against the door to the nursery with his favorite chew toy under his little snout. Zayn's text reads, "I think someone knows."
"He told me to tell you to give him something of the baby's after he's born so Dash can sniff on it before you go home and he can get used to it, you know?" She says. "I dunno, it was something he saw online."
I giggle. "Yeah, Harry mentioned they went down a rabbit hole one night when he pitched in to finish the nursery for us."
Her ginger locks swept over her shoulder as she stood from her chair and shuffled me gently off to the side, leaving just enough space on the (already) small hospital bed for her to lay on her side. Elbow propped on the stiff pillow, she kept her eyes fixed on the side of my face. "I'm proud of you, hot stuff." She said.
"I try my best." I shrugged, giving myself a once over and placing my hand over my warm and rigid stomach. I could mostly just feel my skin tight as ever, but knowing it signified he was closer was enough to ease my anxiety a smidge. "Look at me."
"I know." She humored, slapping my very swollen and sensitive tit. "Who wouldn't wanna knock you up again?"
I backhand her cooch, only pulling a harder laugh from her stupid ass. "With Harry behind bars? The petri dish child will be enough, thanks."
"Bo!"
"What? I'm sure that with Harry's genes, his humor's already developing in the womb. Don't sweat it. I wouldn't be surprised if the kid's doing this as some sick joke."
She shook her head, relaxing her head against her palm and curling her foot around my ankle. "Quite the relief knowing he'll be the one making bullies cry in school."
My eyebrows lifted, picking back up my crochet hooks and resuming my project. "My bet was he'd have Harry questioning his existence by age three."
"Really?" She seemed oddly surprised, murmuring to herself, "We all put cash that'd be the case any time before his first birthday."
"You all what?-"
"You're ruining the moment." She interrupted with a choked cough.
I pointed an accusing finger at her, my crochet hook clenched between my ring and middle finger. "We'll revisit this after we're done."
She scoffed. "Bold to assume you'll remember."
"Are you gonna keep dragging my ass or..?"
"Not with that attitude, you dick." She said, my eyes shifting to hers when she cleared her throat uncomfortably as she stared out the window. I couldn't blame her, the rain was strangely comforting even knowing the deep meaning it held for my lover. "In all seriousness, I know I'm not speaking for myself when I say I'm proud of you. We all are."
We'd reached a point in our conversation where it steers into a different direction, one I only glanced at from the corner of my eye and prayed to steer clear from from the beginning. "I'll take your silence as my cue to keep going. And good," she nodded to herself, exhaling sharply, "I can only get this through one breath before the floodgates open."
My body tensed with an incoming contraction, my brows creasing being the one sign she caught onto to halt her words and hold my hand through it. "Deep breath in through your nose, slowly exhale." Her words of encouragement rolled on from there until the pain subsided to a bearable ache. "Good job, B. You're taking this like a champ." They were becoming less and less timed between each other, the only positive thing about them being that it meant this would all be over sooner.
Once settled down, she wiped a stray bead of sweat rolling down my temple. One I wasn't too sure was truly sweat partially mixed with the teardrop racing it down my face. "There hasn't been a thing you haven't tackled and not perfected. Motherhood won't be your first fault."
I tried my hardest to focus on my labored breathing, my hooks long forgotten as they rolled down my lap and onto the floor, the clatter deepening my wince. My mouth formed into an 'O' shape through a sharp cramp that made my toes curl, and surely Ember's hand turned purple from the grip I had on it.
"I just don't want him to hate me." I stared up at the ceiling, directing my tears right back down the same socket they kept leaking out from, and refusing to choke on the same lump of emotion that knocked on my throat every odd second just to make me fail at remaining put together. "It still feels like I could've done a lot more.
"Bo," she dragged like a sad note in a song, "there's only so much we could've done as a unit." I shut my eyes, only to regret it the same moment a picture of him splattered across the back of my eyelids holding the same child I was hours away from bringing into this world. The same image that would forever live in my imagination for lifetimes to come. "This isn't your cross to bear in any way. Arlo could never hate you, and I'm sure Harry feels the same way."
It sure didn't feel like that, but I wouldn't tell her that. I couldn't be the one to tell her it would always feel I could've done so much more than be at home and wait for the unknown to come knocking on our door and tell us everything was dealt with and taken care of. That every hour spent losing sleep was well worth it because we made our forever happen.
It wasn't as easy for me as everyone thought.
"I hope he's doing okay." The sentence shook against my windpipes, croaking out my embarrassingly lumpy words. "And I hope Zayn is too."
The mention of her own lover broke out a smile on my best friend's face, one that took me back to the day she picked me up from the airport with an elation unlike no other. "He's doing okay." She starts. "Relieved, I suppose, but guilty for the most part."
Zayn's accident was both a blessing and a curse in disguise for many reasons. While it did help put the deal off where they'd lose rights to owning the track (especially with Luke's death, and all that jazz), it also came at the price of Zayn's lengthy coma.
As if that weren't enough, it was now Zayn's guilt that drove him mad every night every time he gets flashes of the race in his sleep, and the fact that now he's off the hook and gets to stay in California for good rather than leaving with Harry like it was initially thought out since the beginning.
It turns out his contact stated that the only way he could ever back out of any prior agreement, (including leaving the league, his racing belongings, amongst other things) was to be involved in sort of trouble with the law outside of the illegal activities going on in the league, or something like an accident that could affect his performance later on.
In Hunter's case, he got the opportunity to leave before this contract was drafted and racers were forced to sign their lives away in exchange for their compensations. He jumped out at the first red flag of Matthew's schemes and lived with the guilt of everyone he left behind in the line of fire.
Clearly, the race was a one time thing Z stepped up to do on behalf of Harry and wasn't planning on doing it any longer, but it did help his case in a way so that now he gets to stay with Ember and all of us.
It became much clearer that Zayn, nor anyone in the track was ever Matthew's target this entire time, but his own son.
I turned my face to her shakily. "Thank you, Em." I squeezed her hand, her own pulling them up to her lips to press a kiss to my knuckles and leave them steady over my fingers, little puffs of air hitting my fingers every so often. "I couldn't have done this without you."
She waved her opposite hand in the air, failing miserably to wipe off one of her own tears with her sleeve without me noticing. "Nonsense. This was all you." Her hand curled on top of my bump and I ignored how tight my skin felt under her touch for the sake of the doting moment. "Arlo is so loved, Bo. Really. And you?" She grinned, her eyes glazing over. "You're responsible for this fucked up family. Respectfully, of course."
"Of course." I laughed with her, my clammy cheek landing over her shoulder. She took my approach with the uttermost kindliness, resting her own over my hair and pressing a kiss there as well. "I love you, Emmie."
"Me more, BoBo." She mumbled against my hair. "You have no idea."
When all hope was lost, I had my girl. Just us girls. Deep down, I knew that as long as I had her, everything would be alright.
***
"Eight?"
"Correct, miss." The assisting doctor, who I've come to know is called Dr. Brunton snapped off the band of her glove, discarding it by the nearest trash can while still looking at me as one of my nurses works on cleaning up the area once again and closing my legs back up.
"Can we slow down a bit?" I frantically spawned, a manic and very incredulous laugh escaping me. "He's a preemie, why's he in such a rush?"
"It's called labor, Norie." Hunter cackled beside me, uncrossing his arms to help fix my gown when it slipped down my shoulder. "I'm shocked it even took him this long to even drop to eight."
It was surprising to find Hunter standing on the entryway to my room just past noon, especially given how work loaded he was with Harry's case. With every role he'd been playing today, I'm surprised he even slotted the time to peek back around.
My bedside table now housed two of the prettiest bouquets he could find on his drive here; a plain one overflowing with baby breaths all over and another similar one with hints of orange poppies scattered around it, probably a dozen new Hot Wheels between every few inches and a small note pinched on its corner folded in half that read, "For the prettiest mumma and my silly sweet Arlo. Love, love, love, H."
Although the note was printed, the ink still transferred onto my fingers the more I dragged my thumb over it. In recognition of his clear and inevitable absence, it was a show of his thoughts displayed right in front of me. Some, not even my own brother, had the privilege to recognize the meaning on the further end of it when delivering the last piece of him, my calmest storm, I would get to grasp besides our little boy.
Just before aiding me through every contraction and giving Ember a break to grab herself something to feed herself, he was attentive to every detail and updates the nurses would share with us, only leaving my side every so often to look at the fetal monitor as if he were qualified to even understand its function.
"Yeah, but there has to be an explanation for it, right, Dr. Brunton?" I searched for her eyes, hers softening in the midst of my distress.
"Call me Gracie, please." She called out, a calming accent to her voice. She asks for one of the nurses to get an update on Fran. "The thing with preemies is that nothing ever goes as planned. I'm sure Fran did everything to keep you and him as healthy as ever so he could cook for a little longer, but if it's any consolation it's none of u guys' faults. He just got bored in there." The humor in her joke wasn't lost on me, but I had no room in my comprehension to keep up with it when I was stressing the fuck out.
"Did you ever think about the pushing him out part of it all when wanting to be a young mom?" He popped an ice chip into his mouth, picking another one from the cup and offering it to me, one I took this time from between his fingers. More for everyone's peace of mind rather than my own, if I'm being honest.
I was also slightly parched.
"I knew chances of me giving birth earlier were big, not two whole fucking months." I said between chews, careful to not let it rush to my head if I kept going at said pace. I side glared at him, missing the tip of his finger by a fraction when biting my next chip. "I also thought about you not being a smartass while feeding me, but look at how that's turning out."
He gave me the cheesiest grin he could muster up. "He's just excited to meet his favorite person."
I remain silent, wanting to slap the smile right off his face. The longer it goes, the more his pinches lips quiver with an impending laugh. "Cut the shit, Opal." I grit through my teeth.
The room fills with ripples of his laughter across the walls at the very moment the door bursts open unexpectedly, Fran striding in with a beaming smile brightening her features and absolutely soothing some of the whirlwind fucking up my thoughts with each passing hour.
"Hello hello!" She sings, stepping opposite to Hunter and pulling me to a gentle hug given my discomfort. "Sorry, I was making some rounds with some mommas around the unit, but you have my undivided attention for the rest of the day, and night. However long it takes to finally stick the landing." She checks my chart, swiping through the papers and signing off a few she hadn't gotten to yet. "How are you feeling so far?"
"Is vaginal reconstruction still on the table?"
She clicks her pen, pocketing it. "I'll take that as you're doing perfectly good, but I'll still check for myself."
It does pull a laugh out of me when Hunter cringes and holds my hand tighter when Fran squats on her stool to check how far dilated am I again, all while doing his mighty best to pretend he's being the strongest one in the room. By the way he's acting, you'd think they're splitting his ass in half and doing a colonoscopy while he's wide awake, but bless his soul for even being here in the first place.
"Yeah, you're at eight, alright." She stands, clearing her gloves on the trash like Gracie earlier and standing beside me, her glasses perched over her nose. "Just wanna do some follow up on my question earlier. Are you still on the fence about the epidural, or do you wanna wait it out a bit? I should warn you that there isn't much time left in your window of opportunity."
"Y-yeah. I want it." I articulated rather quickly, almost as quick as the thought rushed through my head. "The sooner the better."
She nodded. "We'll get on it right now." While waiting for the anesthesiologist, my personal leprechaun waltzes through the door wiping her mouth, her own eyes landing on mine the second the door splits open. Fran regards her quickly and says, "Ember, you're just in time. Is anyone else on their way?"
Ember shook her head. "Just Rena, but she's dropping Tills at yours. Zayn's on babysitting duty."
"Perfect." She began, redirecting her gaze around the room as she went on, "I was just gonna say I know it's a rough day for everyone, and you all wanna be for Billie and Arlo, but before the anesthesiologist gets here I'm gonna need to keep the room as calm paced as possible. You can all still come in one at a time, but if one of you can stay, it'd really help us all."
A number of glances were shared, some I couldn't exactly focus long enough on before another wave of pain shot through my pelvis and had me holding my breath as much as everyone told me I needed to breathe through them.
Once it died down, Ember and Hunter's conversation finally registered. "You should stay, Hunter." She said from my left side, clutching onto my hand while Hunter did the same on my opposite.
"Em-" Him and I interjected at the same time, only to be interrupted by her.
"You stay with her," she repeated, nodding to him with a light smile. "I'll go over to Bo's to check on Zayn, Tilly and Dash."
"Are they okay?" My tone was alarming, worry now bracing my thoughts again thinking something's happened to either one of them while I kept zoning out. "Is something wrong?"
Ember waved her hand dismissively. "I'm pretty sure they are, I just wanna see for myself if Z's wheelchair still has four wheels."
I nodded, watching as she did her rounds saying goodbye to Hunter and making Fran promise her to keep me safe and healthy so she still had a best friend by the time she came back. Fran did her best to reassure her that me and Arlo were in perfect hands and she truly had nothing to worry about, giving her enough serenity to come over to me and planting a kiss on my hairline.
"Give Dash a kiss for me." I asked her with a tight strain on my voice, missing my boy already.
"I will." She gave me another peck, nodding over to Hunter and I simultaneously. "I'll be back as soon as you know it, need anything, though?"
"Can you, um," I licked my dry lips, pursing them briefly. "Can you bring the pillow from the side that faces the bathroom on our bed?" I could've easily said it was Harry's pillow from his side of the bed, and while the pregnancy pillow would've been a better option for my comfort, but all the comfort I needed was nowhere to be found. I would take anything, even if it was the pillow that caressed his head every night while he laid beside me.
Ember caught the shy tone in my voice and winked at me, hauling her purse over her shoulder and saying just before leaving, "Gotcha, momma."
When Ember leaves – Fran trailing behind after being called to the front desk for some lab results from another patient – and it's just Hunter and I, I can't help but be shot back to our youth when being in this exact position.
After some easy maneuvering, he's taken up the chair beside me and coached me through every rougher contraction, brushing the sparse hairs on my eyebrows back every time and letting me bruise the fuck out of his wrist, arm and hand. Every time they ease, he'll shower the top of my head with kisses just like he would under any minor inconvenience.
What began as bedtime stories from the moment I was in my mother's womb, to letting me snuggle on the empty corner he'd saved up for me on rough nights in our childhood home. From letting me use his face as an empty canvas for my finger painting, to proudly sporting the very messy nail polish I would splotch over his nails.
I went from having to bitterly force myself to accustom myself to having a life without having his face around daily to now, not only having him here on the most important day of my life, but mutually free of any lives we lived behind our backs in order to survive – secrets to keep each other afloat.
"They're reviewing our case against Matthew." He later utters, the chair now shuffled impossibly closer to the bed. The epidural had done its heavenly job to numb me from the waist down, making me regret not taking it the second I arrived.
"You finished turning it in?" I turned my head, his own chin dropping to his folded fists when he had his arms propped up by the edge of the bed.
He nods. "Just before I got here."
Knowing my last conversation with Harry was right before my water broke, I dreaded asking, "Does he know I'm here?"
Hunter didn't respond, his silence speaking for itself when he lifted his gaze and met mine poorly. "Oh, God." I breathed out, choking on my own exhale.
"Norie-"
"What did he say?" I spewed out rapidly, wiping my face for nonexistent sweat beads. "Oh my God, he'll never forgive himself-"
"Billie!" My name blasted from his mouth, something that not only effectively shut me the fuck up, but surprised me since he never uses my government name. "He's happy." He says more calmly, bracing his hand around my knee and giving it a squeeze. "Granted, he hasn't stopped sobbing, but Norie, all he ever wanted was your happiness and you guys' health above everything else."
Could he tell that my happiness came at the cost of my wits to remain strong enough for all of us? For my son?
The thundering rain shuddering against the window was distracting enough for my attention to space out from time to time, but admissions like his roped them back to the very top of my list of things I'd rather not discuss within myself on a day like this. It did a great job at masking my misery, but I didn't know how much longer it would take for it to swill down the glass and reveal what's been buried deep in the cavities of my tempest.
"Did he eat?" For some fucked up reason it was the only thing that rattled my brain to life.
Sweet Hunter, of course, was confused. "I'm sorry, huh?" His face scrunched into the same adorable muddled squint he used to make all the time and only made me wanna pinch his cheeks until they popped.
"He has a habit of snacking on shit or just baking when he's anxious and I'm not around, but will refuse to eat a full meal." I explained, his features softening at my distinctive worry and how I wasn't troubling him with more questions than I probably should.
I'm sure he was aware I was too tired to put energy into that funk when it was slowly but surely running low when I still had a whole child to push out in a matter of very little hours.
"I think they were gonna get him something in exchange for his cooperation, but I'll call later and check." He pulled out his phone when it buzzed, typing out a response and putting it on the bedside table this time and going back to massaging my knee comfortingly. "He'll be okay, Norie. I would never lie to you about anything, especially this."
"I know." I believed in him and the power he sustained in his position when running cases like these when he worked at my dad's firm, I just needed to believe it myself that in some other reality my other half would be the one brushing his thumb over my eyebrows and whispering promises of a better tomorrow.
***
"Hi, bubs." My hand circled my stomach, keeping my voice in a hush just for him to hear. "Judging by how early you wanna come out, I take it you get the dramatic urges from your dad. Which, by the way-oh, you like hearing about him, huh?"
Fran mentioned how the baby moves a lot less while in labor, more shuffling around or squirming as I keep contracting, which surprises me when I feel the smallest bit of movement against the base of my stomach. "He would want you to hold off for a little longer, okay, Arlo? He loves you so much." My voice wavers, sniffling, "So so big I have a feeling it keeps him up at night."
In the hours approaching midnight, the maternity ward's chaos reduced significantly, just the occasional beeping of machines across the hall and whatever noise kept echoing around my own room thanks to my monitor.
Rena arrived not long after I woke up from the nap I fell into shortly after Hunter left the room to answer a call from the detective running Harry's case. She wasn't in the room for too long before Tilly called her from Zayn's phone to see if her baby, as she's loved calling him lately, was already here yet. She was disappointed, to say the least, when finding out he wasn't, but the news that he'd be here by the time she woke up tomorrow only made her demand Zayn to hurry up and wrap up her bedtime routine so she could see her baby sooner.
I hadn't had a moment to myself from the moment Harry left our home this morning, and I didn't wanna miss out on basking in the very last moments I had left for myself. When Fran came into the room not that long ago, she asked me if I wanted to have a break for me to take it all in, and even though it was risky with how much closer I am to pushing now than when I got my epidural, I didn't think twice to nod.
I've done everything from humming songs Harry and I would most nights before bed, reading him a short bedtime story with the best hope he wouldn't actually knock out before having to push him out, and finishing up his miniature cardigan for when it's time to come back home and settle down.
The ring in my finger was heavy, making the favor I was doing for Harry by holding onto his ring harder with each passing minute.
Given the significant size difference it had on my finger from his, it was easy for me to twirl the ring around my digit and admire how the polished gold shone in the light, the carnelian overtop reflecting on the ceiling over me every time I'd turn it towards the window where the sun was poking through a gray cloud, disappearing moments later.
My fingers brushed over the linework of each detail, committing them to memory when smaller lines made their presence known on the inside of the band. I turned them closer to my line of vision, catching the smallest carving of my initials on the inside. I smiled, torturing myself further by thinking about how long he's had this in his possession, but better yet, how long since it's had me inscribed on it.
My group of nurses, Kaley, Vane and Emmie all have been constantly coming in and out of my room to check up on me and helping me do my stretches, even keeping my ice chip cup stocked up for me when I come back from my walks around the halls. One of them even overheard I didn't have any clothes that weren't almost three sizes too big for Arlo, and they found a plain white onesie they knew would fit him like a glove.
It wouldn't have been better if I'd planned it more strategically. After many trials and errors, Arlo's cardigan was now cream colored with orange hearts scattered all through it and his initials stitched up by the hem just like his dad loves doing to everything he sews.
Three knocks rattle the door, the same ones I've now grown to know and labeled as Fran's from the way so they're light handed.
"It just might be your lucky hour, honey. Do you feel like pushing yet?" She asks when coming into the room, my group of nurses coming up right behind her along with another herd of people. I'd be half embarrassed on a normal day to be baring myself to them on the first meeting. "I don't feel anything right now." Physically and emotionally speaking. Besides being numb from the waist down, my brain was too jumbled with a billion emotions for me to even pick one up and display it as my highlighted one.
"That's fine, I'll just check one more time and see if we're good to go." Her eyes widen when she realizes she didn't walk in by herself and she turns to point towards the rest of her colleagues. "This is the NICU team, by the way. They're here for the baby after he's out so they can begin running tests and keep him healthier than he already is so he can go home safe and sound, okay?"
I nod, thanking her as she situates herself between my legs, a few moments later uttering, "We're at 10, mom. Are you ready to have a baby?"
I hear the joy in her voice, but it barely makes anything click in my head that it's actually happening. A part of me stupidly hopes the baby will lodge himself in for a little longer to not see my face alone when he's born, but I also cannot wait another second to finally put a face to the love that's been growing inside of me for a better part of the year now.
"Hey," she calls from the end of the room, capturing my attention. "It's all gonna be okay. soon you'll get to tell little Arlo all about his dad and how much he loves him in person."
"B-but I need-"
"I'm here, Norie." Hunter chipped in, his presence aiding my side after I missed him walking in. "Ember's stuck in traffic, but she's not too far away."
"Attie," I choked on my own cry, lifting my wobbly chin as Hunter fixed my sweaty hair to the side. "I thought I could do this, but I need Harry. I-I thought being strong for Arlo would be easy, but I can't do this knowing Harry won't make it."
"Norie," he trails softly, "if there's anyone I know who can do this, it's you. Arlo chose the perfect person to be his mom, and Harry's lucky to have someone as vigorous as you by his side." He smiles, bringing his lips to the back of my hand. "You'll never know a day where love will wither. Not with them. Not with us."
"We have to start now if we wanna avoid your blood pressure skyrocketing and the baby going into stress." Fran announces, the nurses now prepped and ready to go. "Are you staying with her, Hunter?"
I turn my head, praying my pleas are being clamored through my tearful eyes. "Yes-"
"Dad, you've made it just in time." In my painful haze, Fran's voice was something that could've easily fooled me. She was chipper, something I envied in the wake of my coochie splitting in half in front of this multitude of people.
"I-I made it?" It was a sound-the voice I only heard in my dreams for months on end and would tell myself it was all wishful thinking on my part.
To be so foolish to believe that after all this time, I would get the happy ending I read about in so many books and chorused along to my favorite songs when they serenaded me about how it was all going to be okay.
"I figured the real deal was better than his pillow." Ember poked her head through the door, winking at me knowingly.
"She's just about to start pushing," Fran announced as Hunter's grip tightened on my hand, gaining my attention. His tears were blurring the light shade I've loved my whole life, momentarily giving space to the latest emerald that's waltzed into my life radically and taken a better fraction of the love I bore in my upbringing. "Attie?"
At her question, Hunter only disconnected his eyes from mine to nod at Fran, tilting his head over to Harry to take his place. His lips met my forehead sweetly, not caring about the sweat beading and likely dripping from my temple and down my cheeks.
"You got this, Norie." His words cracked by the end of the sentence. a crooked smile prompted more tears to spill from his lash line. "Arlo's dying to meet his favorite uncle."
I managed to blurt a small cackle through a wince right when he pressed a kiss on the apple of my cheek and switched places with Harry, the latter who keeps running his eyes over my gowned body over and over as if to make sure I'm still in one piece or as whole as he'd left me this morning at home.
"Bil," he said in a single breath, one that seemingly took a hold of his composure and broke the dam he'd been keeping up strong for a while. "My god, Ladylove." He shook his head, pressing a firm kiss to my white knuckles. "I made it." He smiled, all signs of disbelief flashing over his eyes every time another word topples from his mouth. "I'm here, mumma. I'm not going anywhere"
The last news I'd heard of him etched a worry on my mind, one he's quick to dismiss with, "We made an immunity deal with everything Hunter had over Matthew's head. I got out less than an hour ago and Em picked me up." I barely felt his fingers working over my face to brush the few sparse damp hair back. He sighed longingly-happily. "We're free, Ladylove."
"So you-"
"-am going to stay. For good." His hair was soaked from the rain outside, swaying and sticking to his face with the way he shook it nervously, but no sign of negative intent behind it. "No more running. We're staying home."
I had so many words waiting for his ears to hear. Words I hadn't been able to utter to myself out loud in fear of them being too bleak or dull enough to bore whatever celestial soul had the rest of my story jotted down. I was frightened they'd erase the imagery in my head and scrap up a new setting in which my life wouldn't turn out this way and maybe the sun would've eventually come out, but it wouldn't quite settle on my skin the way it did when it was Harry who I'd turn to see beside me.
They could wait another while after we welcomed our piece of hope into this world. Not that it would take much longer anyways.
"Alright, Mrs-"
"Styles." Harry cuts the nurse off, earning a glare from me.
"I happen to like my last name, you know." I interjected.
He chuckles, gifting me another kiss to my forehead and letting his words simmer over my skin when he says, "We'll work on hyphenating that later."
"Arlo is crowned and ready to go." Fran says, "Harry?"
"Yes ma'am?"
"I'm going to be giving her the cue to push, so I need you to support the back of her knee and calf when she crunches forward so we take advantage of each momentum, got it? That way we can hold her legs towards her while she pushes, but she can still relax between each contraction, but please, don't crush her bump."
He grasps onto every last one of her words, his hand sneaking underneath my hospital gown to swipe his hand against my skin in circles. "Will do." He nods.
"Everything's in place, now we're just gonna wait for your next contraction and we'll start pushing, alright?" She starts, "What you're gonna do is take a deep breath and hold it for ten seconds while you bear down into your bottom like you're pushing, or pooping, if that example helps." Harry and I chuckle together, his kisses on my hair not seizing every chance he gets. "You're gonna do this three times with each contraction. You're gonna do great."
"You're so strong, B." He whispers softly.
"First contraction's coming right up, remember what I told you, Billie." Fran announces, bracing herself in front of me. "Push!"
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"You're doing so good, Bil."
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"Perfect, I'm so fucking proud of you, Ladylove."
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"Oh my God, he has so much hair."
"His head's out!" Fran exclaims, my fuzzy mind only making it clear she spoke by the way Harry shook my hand and brought it to his lips. "It looks like we'll have him out in the next one."
"You hear that?" He mumbles against my palm, his toothy smile scratching my skin. "Arlo's almost here."
I did my best to replicate what seemed like a smile in my head, but judging by Harry's laugh, it was nothing close to it.
"I need you closer," I begged with little to no strength in my voice, not exactly sure what I was asking for. "I-"
The tensity in my body and voice was the last straw to drive Harry to chuck his shirt off and climb behind me with his legs cradling my hips. He unties the back of my gown and peels it over my shoulders, carefully scooting himself closer to me. The feeling of his bare chest against my back was the remedy to my agony, my head dropping back to his shoulder where he kisses the crook of my neck, murmuring, "I'm here, mumma. Stay with me." He stretched his arms around to resume his job of holding my legs back and whispering more praises that keep my mind at ease.
"Let's do this one more time. Scream if you need to scream, curse me out, do what you need to do to get him out. You've done great so far." Fran calls out, the nurses assuming their final positions. "Push!"
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"You can do it, baby. He's almost here."
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"One more push, darling girl. Just one more..."
1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10.
"Here he is! We have a healthy boy!"
To my misfortune, my dreams would always end right around here. Just as the first cry flooded the room, reality would settle in and I'd be left guessing what happened next – if I'd be lucky to revisit it later in my next slumber and see if he was everything I drew in my imagination he'd be.
My wild little racer wailed potently, letting me know he was nothing short of perfection, and more than I ever anticipated.
It was the eleventh of January, just past midnight, giving rainy days a whole new meaning thanks to the hell of a storm pouring outside.
"You've made quite the impression, bub." I whimper, having a hard time keeping my attention away from my angel baby. His own distress intensifying every few seconds as they continue wiping him down. "I'm your momma, Lo, and this is your dad. I'm glad to see we're getting along already, because you're kinda stuck with us for good." I laugh softly. "See?" I brush my thumb over his protruding lips. "Told you he had my lips, jackass."
"Wouldn't wanna have it any other way." Harry says, my eyes turning to fixate on his where the dam has broken and he hasn't shied away from displaying his surge of tearful happiness. "Hi, my silly sweet boy." He cooed delicately, croaking out, "You're everything, Arlo. So much so you're giving your mumma a run for her money."
"I'm okay with that." I smile, circling my face to reach Harry's lips and smiling into the kiss. "We did good."
He hums into the kiss, only pulling back to press a warm peck to my forehead and returning to focus on our son. "Do I get to know his middle name now?" Harry asks, his eyes unable to detach themselves from Lo.
"Check his cardigan." He swipes his knuckle against Arlo's chubby cheek, reluctantly pulling it away to reach over to his bedside table where it left my finished project and asks for some guidance, lifting his sleeve and his face blanking instantly when it all clicks.
"Lo doesn't really have any present grandparents, but I know your mom would've adored him, so I want him to have a piece of her with him." Shortening his mother's name for our boy was a no brainer. When we found ourselves stuck on choosing one, it was beginning to be impossible to keep this secret from Harry.
Arlo Jean Styles. It had a nice ring to it.
When he got arrested, I worried the first time he'd have to bear this would have to be through a letter. It not only was a relief I got to do this in person, but also honor his first love by naming his firstborn after her.
"Thank you." He sputtered, clutching onto the cardigan tighter as he walked back to us. He takes over the slot beside me on the bed, bracketing my jaw to mold his lips with mine in a lingering kiss, one I never wanna live without. "Thank you for being my calm, and giving me my biggest blessing." He looks down at the swaddled baby in my arms, Harry only hauling me tighter to himself. "God, I love you two so damn much. I didn't think it could ever get better, and-"
He didn't need to tell me he'd give me the moon or the stars, not when they all glistened over his irises and gave me a sense of what the universe had in store for me without needing to long for it like I would in my youth.
I was one to always long for solitude, it was my one form of peace, but my boys brought out the lover that lived deep within the heart of the child that smiled today when reaching her most sacred goal.
She got her family. She got her love. She got her peace.
And for so long my back mourned my inability to keep myself up. Oh, but his love was the missing wing that took the ache in with his own and lifted me up. And now I'm flying, flying so high I finally get to see beyond mountain peaks and far closer to our forever.
This moment was, by far, the most sacred thing my hands have ever held. Reading and formulating my own version of a perfect world was nothing and utterly pointless when Arlo's dainty fingers tighten around my finger and his pouty lips, just like mine, sleepily curl into the tiniest playful smirk, just like his dad.
If there's anything I want out of this love is for our little boy to witness that a literary love is possible. That fiction can become a reality, and even the smallest of coincidences can become the biggest slots of peace a person can bear for the rest of their life.
"Do you think it would have been the same if we'd met under different circumstances?" I wondered out loud, the quiet suckle of Arlo's mouth on my finger being the remedy to all my negatives.
"No," Harry says, his fingers waltzing over mine where I'm holding Arlo, spinning the single ring on my finger. "I think you found me just in time."
THE END.
"Is it a good time to mention I put the hoohah padsickle thing in the freezer before coming here?"
My eyebrows creased, impressed he even remembered in such a rush. It also made sense where the Mr. New Dad shirt came from. "Sure."
He puffs out an exhale. "Okay, good." His eyes wander around the room, his face puzzling when a ruckus outside confuses him and he makes his way over to the glass and clicks his tongue, crossing his arms while pinching his bottom lip. "We may also have to carpool back home when it's time to go."
I scrunch my nose. "Um, why?"
"My car's being towed for being parked in a red zone as we speak."
THE ACTUAL END.
__________
a/n: wow. *cue intro to Jackie and Wilson by Hozier*
guys... WE MADE IT! oh my god we've actually fucking reached the finish line. i-wow.
before bidding u guys over to the epilogue (which is in the works), i wanted to take this second to thank you guys for reaching 300k reads while i was gone. not only does it mean the world to me, but it was the perfect way to close off this era with a bang. LIKEEEE😀
let me know your thoughts on everything, i wanna hear u out one more time🫶🏻
anywhooo... up next is a little glimpse of the family and their dynamic with Arlo in the picture!
see you there🫵🏻