Page 100 of Give Me What I Want

I started to rub her back, remembering what we had been told in that class all those months ago. I rubbed hard, focusing on her lower back with my free hand as she continued to squeeze me.

Her grip was like a vise, tightening until I could barely feel my fingers anymore, and then, as if someone had flipped a switch, it was gone. She released me, flopped back against the raised back of the bed, and released a cry of relief, highlighted with a laugh.

She had done it. My girl had made it, she was fine. And then a tiny, bloody,screaming,thing was placed on her chest. She held the baby as tears ran down her cheeks like waterfalls. I looked around the room, taking in the grinning faces of the two men who loved her just as much as I did, and I knew that this right here was the happiest day of my life.

Happy Halloween.

An hour or two later, once the cord had been cut, Bea had downed a cup of tea and munched through a slice of toast. She had regained enough energy to want a shower, so I took my moment to finally, formally, meet my daughter.

Picking her up from the hospital cot, I rubbed my nose against hers, so tiny and warm, the softest skin I had ever touched, the most addictively calming smell coming from the little bundle wrapped in a tiny lilac blanket in my arms.

I looked at that little girl and I knew that there wasn’t a single thing that I wouldn’t do for her. I would protect her until my dying breath. I was so in love with her, so protective already that I knew I’d happily throw Bea into shark-infested waters if it meant keeping our little angel safe. My world had a whole new centre.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” I whispered to her, stroking my finger over her tiny forehead, smiling as her lips puckered before she yawned, tiny tongue poking out, eyes closed tight.

I looked up at the two men still in the room with me with tears still in my eyes. I had never cried like this before, and never in front of anyone. But with these two, and Bea, I felt safe, I could let it out. I could feel those emotions freely.

“She’s perfect,” I announced to them, then went to sit, just for a moment, just so that I could stare at her a little longer before I handed her off to Cole, who was bouncing from foot to foot, looking like he might actually be the worst person to hand a baby to.

“Sit down, boo,” Mav instructed, and he did as he was told, getting comfy on the now clean birthing bed. “There, he won’t drop her now.”

I nodded, smiled at our girl, and then passed her over to Cole, careful to not let go until he had stopped vibrating with excitement.

“Fucking hell, would you look at that? She’s… fuck.”

“She’sfuck?” I mocked. “Are you kidding me? That’s the best you can do?”

Cole narrowed his eyes at me, then stared at her again. “Of course, I can do better, I’m a lyrical genius.”

“You’ve never written a song in your life,” Mav snorted.

“Fine,” Cole said with a laugh. “But I could write a million riffs for this girl. That’s got to be as good as some poetic words, right?”

“It is,” Bea said sleepily as she plodded back into the room, finally out of her fancy-dress costume, the only one of us to have changed so far. She had insisted on still going to the party tonight, even though she could’ve—and had—gone into labour at any moment. Luckily for us, we had been partying with friends, so she sent Elijah, the only other sober one apart from us, to our house to grab the hospital bags that had been packed and waiting by the front door for the past three weeks. He had arrived an hour after we had got here, with bags of clothes for us too, and had offered to stick around.

I had told him to go, but then his girl had called us an hour later, asking if it was okay to decorate the house for when we came home, the girl was a sucker for a celebration, even a small one. I gave her permission to do banners and balloons, and get some good snacks in, but that was all. I had a horrible feeling that she’d go overboard, but fuck it, who cared. Right now, I didn’t give a fuck about anything except for the people in this room.

My girl.

My boys.

And our baby.

“So,” Bea said slowly, leaning against the side of the bed as Mav scooped the baby out of Cole’s arms, finally taking his moment with her. He walked to the window and began to whisper to her, something that the rest of us couldn’t hear.

“Is she?” Bea asked.

“Is she what?” I raised a brow at her, playing dumb, then glanced at Mav’s back.

“You know what I’m asking.” She glanced too, then bit her lip. “I think she is.”

Cole chimed in, grinning. “Of course she is.”

Bea’s eyes watered and she smiled at him, then looked back at me again, waiting for me to agree with them both. I dragged it out though, waited until she looked like she might fight me, again, and nodded.

Mav turned to face us, propping his foot against the wall below the window as he leaned back. The tiny bundle looking even smaller tucked in his huge arm. With his free hand, he swept his hair back, then cocked his head. “How could she be anything but.”

He looked down at her, smiling as though she had erased all of his pain, and whispered. “Welcome to the world, Carrie.”

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