I rushed toward the man in teal scrubs. He had a face mask pushed down to cover his chin, rectangular-framed glasses around his eyes.
“I’m here for Kandy Jennings,” I breathed. “I’m her fiancé, Quinton Cane. How is she doing?”
“She’s doing okay, but she specifically asked for you.”
I glanced back at Mama and Lora. He wasn’t speaking too confidently. Something must have been wrong. “Okay. Where is she?”
“Right this way,” he said, turning.
“Keep us updated!” Lora called after me.
I nodded, following the man down a few hallways. He reached a room at the end of one of the halls on the maternity wing and pushed it open. This room was spacious, full of machines and other devices. A hospital bed was in the middle of the room and lying on top of it was Kandy. When she saw me, she gave me a weak smile, and I rushed for her, hugging her, probably a little too tightly.
“Shit, baby, you can’t scare me like that!” I panted. “You okay? How’s the baby?”
“I’m okay, and the baby is fine,” she assured me, my face clasped in her hands.
“Jesus.” I closed my eyes, kissing the middle of her forehead. “What happened?”
“The bleeding wasn’t from the baby. They think there may have been a slight rupture so they’re doing a C-section to prevent anything worse from happening.” Her eyes glistened as she peered into my eyes. “We’re going to have a baby soon, Cane.”
“Seriously?” I looked back and the man was still there, but was talking to another nurse. “Like, now?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “Now.”
“You’re serious?” I cupped her face. “Holy shit, you’re serious!” I kissed her everywhere—her nose, her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead, anywhere my lips could find.
A throat lightly cleared behind me, and I let go, looking toward the person. Dr. Maxine was there, a relaxed smile on her lips. “Sorry I’m late, but I’m happy to see you both here!” she sang. “Now, who’s ready to have a baby?”
Seventeen
KANDY
I never, in a million years, thought that by age twenty-three, I would become a mother, but it was happening, and this was the moment Cane and I had been waiting for. After months of fatigue, aches, long nights and early mornings, it was happening. After living with doubts and fears and worrying over every little thing, the time had come.
I was given an epidural before the procedure, and when it was time, Dr. Maxine was standing over me while I laid on the table. I really wasn’t happy that I had to have a C-section. I read the horror stories, but Dr. Maxine mentioned that a C-section was going to be the safest way to go since Kelly’s stabbing had ruptured the lining in the first place. She didn’t want any internal bleeding or hemorrhaging to happen, so it made sense.
I didn’t care as long as my baby came out healthy. Before the procedure, she’d informed me that my bleeding had stopped, which was good. It meant the baby was okay and that I would be too.
The procedure, to my surprise, was over much faster than I had anticipated. With the epidural in place, I didn’t feel a thing. One minute I was lying on the table, anxious while clutching Cane’s hand, a paper curtain stretched in front of me, and the next, Cane is gasping sharply, watching Dr. Maxine’s every move
“Oh! Here we go, here we go!” Dr. Maxine cheered. “There we go!”
And then I heard a sound—a beautiful sound that made my heart flutter.
The cries of a baby.
In that very moment, it was like my world had slowed down. Like the earth had stopped spinning on its axis, halting time, and dedicating this very second to me. Dr. Maxine had the baby in her hands, and the nurses were clearing his or her nose and mouth. I still couldn’t see what gender. Cane was right beside them, and as his eyes traveled down, focused on what was between the baby’s legs, he looked my way and rushed to my side, yelling, “It’s a boy!”
His voice sounded so distant—muted almost. He kissed me repeatedly, telling me I did so good, but I couldn’t look away from the baby.
My baby. My crying, beautiful, baby boy, with a head full of hair and a dimpled little butt.
Dr. Maxine came my way with him, a sweet smile on her lips, and as soon as she lowered him to my chest and his cheek pressed to mine, the earth spun again. His cries came into tune, and they surrounded me, and I loved it. My heart burst with joy and a love that I could not describe.
I cooed to him, hummed to him, letting him know that everything was going to be okay, because it was. Everything was okay, and he was here, and our war had been won. There wouldn’t be any more pain or sorrow or surprises. He was here, and he was so, so perfect.
He opened his tiny eyes and looked up at me, and I sobbed and laughed at the same time because they were gray—they looked like Cane’s. I picked my head up, and Cane was smiling down at him. He lifted his chin to meet my eyes.
“He’s so beautiful,” I cried.
“He’s perfect,” Cane said, cupping my cheek. “Just like his mother.”
Cane kissed me hard and deep, and then pulled back to kiss the baby on the forehead.
“We normally don’t advise that the mother holds baby right after C-section. We prefer you wait until the anesthesia wears off, so in the meantime, we’ll let Dad hold him,” Dr. Maxine said.
“That’s fine,” I smiled at her as she handed the baby to Cane.
Dr. Maxine sewed me up, and after a while, Cane let go of the baby so the nurses could dress him properly. When he was dressed, they took us to a recovery room, and while we were there, they handed him to Cane again. Watching him with his son was beautiful. He couldn’t stop staring at him. I’d seen him in awe, but never like this. Never while looking so vulnerable, so close to crying tears of pure joy. His eyes glistened as he rocked the baby in his arms, whispering all the while.
“You’ll never have to worry about a thing, baby boy,” he cooed. “I will love you until the end of time, and even beyond that. You’ll have the world.”
God. My heart.
An hour went by, and my body felt less numb. Finally, I was able to hold my baby in my arms, and of course, I cried instantly. He was warm and snuggly and smelled good. He was so innocent, and all I wanted to do was protect him from any and everything. I couldn’t believe the joy I was feeling—the warmth and power in my chest. This was what unconditional love felt like, I realized. It was powerful, emotional, and rooted deep within my soul. Nothing could describe it or replace it—this feeling so monumental it swallowed you whole and refused to let go.
All this time, I wondered how my parents had forgiven me for all I’d put them through, and in this moment, I realized why: this kind of love is irreplaceable. This kind of love steals your heart away, but you don’t mind it, because the little thief who has it is worth more than the world can give.
There was a knock on the door about thirty minutes later, and a nurse opened it, just as Cane stood up and grabbed Chance, curling him in his arms. Mom and Dad stood in the doorway, both standing with wide eyes, as if they weren’t sure where to go first.
“Oh, Kandy!” Mom gasped, rushing across the room. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She held my face in her hands, looking me all over.
“I’m great, Mom. Everything’s okay.”
“You had me worried sick,” Dad said, moving in next to her, messing up my hair with his hand. He leaned forward. “Sure you’re okay?”
“I promise,” I laughed.
He stood straight again with a sigh. I looked over at Mom, but she was focused on Cane, who was leaning against the window, facing us. He had the baby in his arms, and Mom had a hand over her mouth, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. My man looked pretty damn hot holding a baby.
Dad wrapped an arm around Mom’s side and urged her forward. She hesitated as she went toward Cane, focused on her grandson.
“It’s a boy,” I told them.
“Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “Oh. My. Goodness
. Look at him.” She finally met up to Cane, looking the baby all over. “Oh, he’s so handsome. So perfect.” She put her eyes on Cane’s. “Do you mind if I hold him?”
“Of course I don’t mind,” he said, handing the baby over to her gently.
I looked at Dad, who stood his ground beside me while Mom cooed and sang and cried over the baby. “Dad,” I whispered, nudging him with my hand. “Go meet your grandson.”
Dad looked down at me, and for once he’d swallowed his pride and did what I told him to do without putting up a fight. Along the way, he locked his eyes on Cane, who stood a little ways off, watching Mom with the baby. When Dad got closer, he swept his eyes up and down the length of his grandson, finally revealing some emotion. A smile spread across his lips. It was subtle, but still a smile. “Wow,” he breathed.
“Here.” Mom handed the baby to Dad, and at first he looked alarmed, like he wasn’t ready for this part of it yet, but Mom left him with no choice. When the baby was in his arms, he cradled him, holding him close to his chest. Dad’s eyes lit up instantly, and there might have even been a glistening.
“Look at that. There are always good things,” Mom murmured to him. “Always.”
“You’ve always wanted a boy,” Cane said, and Dad looked up at him, his eyes wet and red at the rim. “We can’t raise him alone, D. He needs family. Support.”
“Oh, trust me,” Dad murmured, head shaking. “I’ll be here.” He studied the baby. “I’ll be here every step of the way.”
A tear fell down my cheek as I watched my parents with the baby. Cane gave me a sweet, comforting smile before coming up to my side. He planted a kiss on the top of my head, rubbing my shoulder.
There was another knock on the door, but this time it was Lora and Miss Cane. Miss Cane had a bouquet of flowers in hand. Lora came up to me, hugging me tight around the neck. “You ever scare me like that again and I’ll beat your ass!” she playfully threatened with a laugh. “You’re lucky Cane sent me a text saying you were okay.”
Miss Cane had placed the flowerd down and walked around the bed to hug me when Lora let go. “I’m so glad you are okay, love. I knew you would be.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
They both washed their hands and then walked to where Cane was now standing. Dad was still holding the baby, not even caring that others were waiting to hold him too. “Okay, Dad. Don’t be a baby hog,” I joked.
“Yeah, dude. Don’t. I want to hold my nephew.” Lora stepped up to Dad, extending her arms, her fingers practically screaming the word gimme.
Dad handed the baby over proudly, and as soon as Lora had him in her arms, she gushed and said, “Oh my gosh! He’s so fucking beautiful! I’m going to die from all of this cuteness!”
Everyone broke out in a laugh, even Dad.
“Look, if you’re going to be around when he grows up, you can’t bring that potty mouth with you,” Dad scolded lightly.
“I’ll try…but only for him.” Lora ran a finger over the baby’s chin, then she turned to look at me. “Kandy? What are you going to name him?”
Everyone turned to face me, waiting for a response. Little did they know that while I was laying on the bed, waiting for the bleeding to the stop, I prayed. I prayed so hard that it would stop and that I would meet the person who’d been kicking and punching me from the inside for the past few months. I wanted to meet him and raise him and do everything for him that I could, so much so that the last thing I’d worried about was his name. That said, I did have an idea, but it wasn’t set in stone yet.
“We talked about names, but I’m not sure yet,” I murmured.
“Well, it’s up to you, babe,” Cane said. “You did the hard work, you get the honor.”
“What about Duncan?” Lora asked.
“Uh, hell no,” Cane laughed, head shaking.
Mom and Dad shook their heads too, Mom’s nose scrunched a bit.
“Hey, Duncan is classic and cool as hell. You guys are tripping.” Lora waved a hand and shrugged.
I couldn’t fight my smile.
Eighteen
KANDY
For the first time in years, I was surrounded by nothing but complete and utter joy. There were no attitudes or resentment. No ugly looks were passed, no hate. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, as I sat on the hospital bed. Mom kept busting out in cry-laughing spells, and Dad couldn’t stop smiling as he cooed and babbled to the baby.
Who would have thought that someone so tiny could bring us all together in this way? I’m certain Dad still had his issues with Cane, but it seemed, for the most part, he was shoving those issues aside for the sake of the baby and me, and that was all I’d ever wanted—for him to see the bigger, grander picture. To know that even though we had our broken moments, we were still a family.
To my surprise, Frankie came to visit that same day. She walked into the room with blue balloons and a gift basket, unloading it all next to the bed and then squeezing me around the neck. I had Cane send her a text from my phone shortly after the baby was delivered, but I never dreamed she’d be able to get here so soon.
“Oh my gosh, K.J.! You’re officially a mama!” she shrieked.
“Isn’t that weird?” I laughed.
“Where is the little minion?” Frankie released me and turned to where everyone was. Cane had the baby in his arms and was rocking him gently. He was nervous before, probably scared he’d drop him or something, but the way he looked at Chance…gah, it was everything.
“Oh my goodness!” Frankie cupped her mouth, stepping closer to Cane. “Geez, he’s, like, the cutest, chunkiest little thing ever. Look at those cheeks!” Frankie went to the sink to wash her hands then walked back to Cane with her hands out. “Can I?”
“Of course.” Cane handed the baby to her with ease, and she sighed as soon as he was in her arms.
“Oh! He’s so cuddly!”
Cane smiled, eyes on Chance. Everyone else was looking at the baby too as Frankie nuzzled the tip of her nose across his downy head. Cane’s eyes shifted up to me while everyone watched the baby. It was brief, but there was a change in his eyes—a light that I’d never seen before. I had been certain Cane was content before, but in this moment, I think there was a feeling inside him that exceeded happiness.
I know that feeling, because I felt it too.
Happiness was too simple a word for how I felt.
I never wanted these feelings to end.
“I think I know what I’m going to name him,” I announced when Frankie handed the baby to me.
“Oh, yeah? What?” Mom inquired.
I snuggled him, and after placing a kiss on his forehead, I looked up at Cane, who smiled down at me like he knew what I was going to say. “He was our fighting chance,” I said. “I'm going to name him Chance. Chance Cane.”
Within three days, I was clear to go. Mom and Dad stayed in a hotel in town and were around a lot. When it was time for me to check out, they were both there waiting. They followed behind us in their car to our house.
I was in the back seat with Chance while Cane drove. I swear, I couldn’t stop looking at him even if I tried. And what is it with babies and those long pauses they take before drawing their next breath? It freaked me out when Chance did it, and of course he did it often.
When we arrived, Cane carried Chance to the house in his car seat, heading to the front door to unlock it. My parents met up to me, helping me up the sidewalk and into the house. They helped me unpack and watched Chance while I showered and ate and slept because, yeah, I was super happy, but exhausted too.
Laughing and coughing and even moving were pretty painful, due to the C-section, but when I looked at Chance, I realized I would go through hell and back for him. After all, what was a war without a few battle scars?
Although Chance was a great baby who only cried when he had a dirty diaper, was hungry, or sleepy, he had a terrible latch. Breast-feeding was harder than I expected, and it broke my heart when we’d try and try and still
he wasn’t getting anything. Chance would cry because he wasn’t getting the milk he needed, and I would cry because my baby was hungry, and my nipples hurt, and I was tired as hell.
Cane worked from home so he could be close to me and Chance, and he, Lora, and Miss Cane were great about taking him off my hands when I needed to rest or shower, but feeding him was all up to me, and I refused to give up on it. I swore I would do anything for my baby, so I toughed it out and eventually—okay, a month later—I got the hang of it. It was nice having a support system, and my parents visited every weekend for the first few weeks.
Dad was less hostile about our situation, shoving those feelings aside due to his excitement to be around his grandson. He and Cane talked a lot more, though, which was good. It started with updates about Chance, and then minor sports talk if a game was on, and then they talked about work. They began having full conversations, and I was pleased to see it.
Having a baby while in college was hard, but my professors worked with me. During the first six weeks, I’d enrolled in online classes and did the work from home. When I managed to go to class after those six weeks had passed, Lora or Miss Cane would watch Chance for me for a few hours until I returned. They were good with him, but they spoiled him rotten for sure.
My life revolved around Chance now. I went to college, took care of him, and spent time with Cane. It was a simple life—a routine we’d created—and I was living through it. What we had now felt even more real than what we had before. In a way, Chance completed us. He made us happy. He was a beautiful baby, with chunky thighs and small toes and chubby cheeks. His skin was a few shades lighter than mine, and a bit darker than Cane’s—the perfect blend of us.
Around eight weeks postpartum, I felt much, much better. It wasn’t as painful anymore to move around, Chance was getting healthier and growing so fast I couldn’t believe it. Once I’d gotten the green light from Dr. Maxine, I decided to whip my butt in just enough shape to fit into the wedding dresses I was scheduled to try on in July. Fortunately, it didn’t take me too long to get back into shape, though I did have loose skin that was never going to go away unless I had plastic surgery. Cane swore he loved it because it was literal proof that I was his, but I legit hated it.
The Cane Series: A Complete Forbidden Romance Series (4-Book Set) Page 83