“I’m sure when you get back and the doctor has finished messing with her, she will want you then. Go, Kel. We will be fine,” she exclaims.

“Okay, I will be right back,” I say, grabbing my t-shirt and hoodie to throw over my head. As soon as I’m ready to go, I walk over to the cot and kiss my daughter on her forehead, before walking over to Shayla. “Bye, beautiful. You did amazing, thank you.” I mean each and every word.

Catching me off guard, Shayla leans over and captures my lips, kissing them hard and fast. It is over before it ever really began, but my lips can still feel hers, as her kiss was bruising. It felt more like a forever goodbye kiss than a see you in half an hour goodbye kiss. I think all this action might be seriously messing with my brain, but it’s screaming at me that something is wrong. That Shayla is acting weird, and that I shouldn’t leave.

I do the one thing I always said I would never do, I ignore my gut instinct, and head out of the hospital.

As soon as Kellan leaves, I waste no time in getting things together, even if I can only do a little before I have to sit back down again. When the midwife and doctor come in to check us both out, they comment about how eager I am to get home, and I’m not sure they are right, but they aren’t exactly wrong.

I have absolutely loved these last few months with Kellan, and it really has felt like I’ve been on an extended holiday away from the Reapers. But then I would catch myself preparing for the birth in a way I wouldn’t if I was staying, or getting as much information as possible to steal everything from Kellan. He isn’t the sort of guy who is affected by trivial stuff, but I am going to take some things that mean the most to him.

There were times during the extended holiday, like when I was working out how much he was worth and coming up with plans for how to take everything from him, those were the times I felt at my lowest. Why did I get to have this beautiful, happy time, but have it shrouded by dirt? Kellan isn’t ever going to be able to remember any of the amazing things we did together, all he will think is that it was all a lie. The only reason I came back was to dump him with the baby, and to steal from him.

A few times during the pregnancy I met up with Jamieson, we were doing it under the guise of updating the Reapers on my progress, but really I missed him. I had become so used to having him around, it brought back all the old memories of when we were friends. Jamieson decided we had better go on a few dates since we were married anyway. Obviously it felt weird going on a date with one guy, but then going home to another.

At first, I tried to keep away from Kellan. To just sleep next to him and use him for the comfort I so desperately crave to help sate the horrendous nightmares I was still having. Well, actually they had evolved and been added to, thanks to the extended trips I had to Purgatory during my month’s leaving party, as Patch called it. I ended up with so many new wounds and scars, it would be impossible to forget each and every time I ended up in that basement.

I hated that I turned to drugs to cope, but I know why I did. And as I sit, curled up in this hospital bed, trying not to look at the little girl not a few feet away from me, I crave that numbness again. I knew giving her up would be hard, but this is unbearable. Everything in my gut is telling me to pick her up, to love her and squeeze her for as long as possible. Because I’m never going to get to do it again, but I’m scared. If I do it once, I will know what she looks like, what she smells like, feels like, and I know that information will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will close my eyes and see her little face shining back at me, as I imagine how she will look on this day so many years later. Where will she be, what will she be doing? I already get to experience that pain, I don’t want to add the extra stuff on top. If I never hold her, or kiss her, or even look at her, I never know what I’m missing.

A knock on the hospital door pulls me out of my spiralling thoughts. Upon hearing the noise, the baby, who had been sound asleep in the hospital cot since the doctor did her check-up and the midwife got her dressed, begins to cry. She offered her to me, but I made up a bunch of lousy reasons, asking if she could do it for me. I caught the suspicious glint in her eyes, but she did it anyway, putting her down to sleep afterwards. Which she did, right up until this moment. As I hear her squawking, I pray whoever wakes her up is willing to pick her up and settle her down again, because I can’t do it. I won’t be able to put her down again if I do.

As soon as I call to say they can enter, in walks Jamieson holding a duffle bag, no doubt to collect all my stuff. “Sorry, I never thought about waking the baby when I knocked. Look at her. Shall I pass her to you?” he asks as he picks her up and she immediately stops crying.

Jamieson holds my tiny baby in his big arms, and I can’t get over how small she looks. I thought she looked tiny curled up on Kellan’s chest, but that’s nothing compared to this. I’m amazed that she stops crying straight away, but as he walks over, bringing her closer, I hold my hands out and practically scurry up the bed to get away from her.

“NO! Why will nobody listen? I don’t want her near me. I don’t want to see her, to touch her, to smell her, or to have her look at me with what I’m sure are the cutest little eyes. I can’t do any of that, Jay, and still be able to walk away. It’s breaking my heart right now to have her so close yet so far away.”

Placing her back in her cot, he comes over, and perches on the edge of the bed as he pulls me into the crook of his arm, wrapping his big muscles around me. “Hey, shush. Don’t cry, Shay. I can’t even imagine how painful this is for you right now. I know you are doing everything you can to make it easier. I just didn’t think. I’m sorry. I thought maybe if you got to give her a hold and say goodbye, it might give you some form of closure,” Jamieson whispers as he runs his hand down my spine in a soothing way.

The tears I’ve tried to hold back from the moment she was born are now flowing freely, and big sobs rack my body, as I try to explain myself to Jamieson. “How can I say goodbye when I never said hello? I know she won’t ever remember but I don’t want to touch her, or feel her, to give me that chance to love her even more than I already do. At the moment, she is a nameless, faceless baby, and if I try to picture her in my head, I can’t. That’s exactly what I want. Because if not, when I am at my lowest, and the world is trying to kick me when I’m down, that beautiful shining face of my gummy bear, and her big eyes staring at me, will haunt me. She is all I will be able to think about, and getting over her will be next to impossible.”

“Okay, babe, I can do that. You want to get away from here as quickly as possible, with as few distractions as possible. Is that what you mean?” Jay asks, and I can only nod. No matter how much I try to slow my breathing and get control of myself, as soon as I stop focusing, I can’t help but be racked by sobs. My body already hurts and feels like it’s been put through a fucking meat grinder, but now it’s extra achy thanks to the many cries that are hunching my body.

“Yeah, I want to just get a shower real quickly, and then we can go. Do you have everything sorted that I asked you to bring?” I ask, trying to stand up but not having the energy. Luckily, Jamieson is there yet again, exactly where I need him. He scoops me up and carries me into the bathroom. I’m still wearing the bloody dress Kellan slid over my head when he was preparing to bring me to the hospital. It’s covered in fluid from when my waters broke, blood, and that white sticky stuff the baby was covered in when she was born. The midwife placed her onto me, and all I could do was close my eyes and pretend it wasn’t really happening.

As I look down, and Jamieson jokes about how disgusting the dress is, I feel a pang in my chest. “Shall I just tear this off you and put it in the bin?” Jamieson asks once he has me seated on the corner of the bath.

“No. I heard in one of the parenting books I made Kellan listen to, on the first couple of nights, the baby can be really irritable at night because they miss the safety and security of their mum's tummy. Just last night, the baby was tucked away surrounded by my body, my warmth, my smell, listening to my heart beat. So, this book said that the best thing to do when they are playing up is to wrap them in the clothes you give birth in. It gives them the familiarity of their mum’s tummy, while also comforting them. I can’t do anything for this little girl, other than get as far away from her as possible. But, maybe this could help.” I take the dress off and fold it as best I can. Jamieson helps me up to the shower, and I tell him to go next door to keep an eye on the baby.

“Shay, I know you don’t want these for you, but I feel like I will have lots of regrets if I don’t at least ask you. I’ve been part of this pregnancy too, and seeing her here in real life is so surreal. I get that we can’t ever have her in our lives again, but I was wondering if I could just get a couple of pictures of her. I will hide them in a secret password-required photo album, one you will never be able to find. So you can’t ever see them, but I would like to have them for me.” His heart almost sounds like it’s breaking as he speaks, and I never quite realised before how involved Jamieson had been.

I have been so selfish. I wanted him here for me, to help give me the strength to walk away, but I at no point stopped to think about how he felt. How this pregnancy might affect him. Now I can see shadows under his eyes, and they lack their usual brightness. I can’t believe I missed it, and so of course I could never deny him the type of goodbye he needs.

“Go and do what you need to do. I can manage in here for a few minutes. I will shout if I need you.” With that, he kisses me on my forehead and leaves me alone to shower.

Turning the water on far hotter than it needs to be, I try to wash away not just the blood and crap that is stuck all over me, but the shame and pain I feel. No matter how many times I reassure myself that I’m doing the right thing, it will never be enough. The ache I feel deep in the pit of my stomach feels all-consuming. I thought I could cope, knowing I had done the right thing, but I can’t. Add onto that the horror of knowing I have to return back to the compound that literally haunts my dreams, I feel as though I’m drowning. I don’t want to feel anymore. If it really is possible to die from heartbreak, then I’m almost there.

Once I finish, I quickly dry myself, and I call out to Jamieson who comes in straight away, only too happy to help me dress. I know I should feel embarrassed. This is the first time he’s seen me naked since we were teenagers—not including the Purgatory stuff we are trying to forget—having a drunken fumble as we both lost our virginities. But instead of feeling embarrassed or anything else, I just feel pain. It hurts to move, and so I will take all the help I can get. Even if that means displaying my saggy belly, which is still so inflated I look like I still have a baby in there. He also gets to see my bright red-and-purple angry-looking stretch marks that have joined the other marks that are all over my body. Not to mention the fact that I’m wearing the biggest granny panties I could find to hold the biggest sanitary towel I have ever seen. But, I see now why they give it to you. Every time I move around I get a fresh wave of bleeding. Then again, after everything I’ve been through, it’s hardly surprising.

“Shayla, are you in the bathroom? It's Siobhan, the midwife,” she shouts, knocking on the door.

Pushing Jamieson out of sight behind the back of the door, I open the door she is shouting through as I pull on my t-shirt and hobble out of the bathroom to sit on the seat next to the bed. I hate the way I am waddling, but you try walking with a labia twice the size it should be, and the world's largest sanitary pad stuffed between your legs. Not to mention the pain you feel shooting up your vagina every time you move. It’s hardly a shock I’m waddling.

As I sit down, I wince and try to find the best angle that doesn’t put too much pressure on my stitches. I’m sitting leaning more to one side, when the young midwife crouches down in front of me. She is still a little higher than me, but as she gets down to my level she gives me a small smile.

“Shayla, how are you feeling?” she asks with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Instantly, my suspicions are raised.

“I’m fine, just a bit sore from the stitches.”