Page 6 of Sinful Bride

Who the hell does he think he is? That’s my baby. I’m supposed to be the first one to hold her aside from Daphne. This fucker is taking my firsts away, too.

He needs to get his hands off my daughter. Now.

“Not with that approach, my dude.” Jameson levels his gaze at me.

Shit. I didn’t mean to say it like that: out loud. Still—once again, who the fuck does he think he is? “You’re not her father?—”

“Nope. I’m her uncle. Her overprotective uncle who’s gonna punch you in the face if you don’t back up and watch your tone.”

My voice of reason—which is mostly muffled underneath my rage and disappointment and something that kind of feels like grief—says he has a point.

The other voices roar at me to tackle him and take my baby.

But then, out of nowhere, in the middle of my swirling chaos and darkness, a tiny beam of light spears through.

It’s the light coming from my daughter’s equally tiny face, all squished and squinting up at me.

She squeaks. Again.

Just like that, I’m fucking broken.

“What…”

I want to ask what her name is.

I want to know how much she weighs, how long she is, was she an easy birth or a fighter?

But all I can do is swallow hard and clench my fists until my fingernails dig into my palms. If I say anything more, everyone in this room is going to see me do something I never do.

Crumble to fucking pieces.

“Her name is Tatyanna.” Melanie slips to Jameson’s side. She smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tatyanna Melina Chekhov. Taty, for short.”

Again, words fail me. They’re all right there, in my mouth, but refuse to come out. I wipe a hand over my face. Fuck, I’m actually trembling. But I don’t want my first moments with my child to be with fists and fury, so I force myself to pry my fingers open and instead press them to my sides.

In the corner of my eye, I can see Mama and Sofi watching. Sadness is written all over them, and that’s the last thing I need right now. Sympathy won’t make this better. Pity doesn’t fix a damn thing.

Mama is the first to move toward me, her arms outstretched until she has me wrapped up in her warm embrace. “Your daughter is beautiful. I’m so proud of you. Both of you.”

Whatever tension I was feeling when I walked through the door dissolves. All that’s left is the aching need to hold my baby close and never let her go. I hold out my arms to take her, letting Jameson decide if this is a demand or a plea.

He doesn’t say anything.

But he does, carefully, place her in my arms.

Just like that, I’m undone. Completely and utterly unraveled from the inside out. All it takes is feeling her wriggle inside her blankets to make me realize this is it; this is how I’m living the rest of my life. My arms are never leaving this position and she’s never getting out of them.

“Would you…” I try to clear my throat so I can at least manage a single sentence. “Would you all mind…”

Mama nods and reaches for Melanie and Jameson. “Of course. Come, let’s go grab something to eat. I need your help picking something out for Daphne. She’s going to be starving for something good.”

Melanie doesn’t seem comfortable leaving us here. Or maybe it’s more that she’s not comfortable leaving me here. With her sister and niece.

I hate that I can understand why.

I settle into the overstuffed chair next to Daphne’s bed. I didn’t even realize how fucking exhausted I was until my ass hit the seat. Sofi and Mak follow the others out of the room. They give me their sad smiles and promise to be back soon with food and drinks, then shut the door behind them.

When I’m alone at last, I break.

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