An Imperfect Heart

by Amie Knight

  And he was gone as quickly and as smooth as he walked up to us.

  I held my arm out. “Ready?“

  “Yep.”

  “Who’s Noah?”

  “Mo’s grandson.”

  “And I imagine you saved his life, too?”

  This was starting to get embarrassing, but I still answered. “Me and an awesome team of doctors.”

  “How’d you get so damn amazing, Doc?”

  I laughed.

  “I’m serious. How are you so damn good, so sweet, so smart, and so damn sexy?”

  My face heated at her compliments. I wasn’t used to such high praise from a woman. She thought I was sexy. And, God, I thought she was, too.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing at all as I opened the car door for her. She paused on her way in and her baby belly pressed into my stomach as she leaned up and brushed a soft kiss across my lips. That kiss meant a fuck of a lot. She’d never initiated one between us since we’d been reunited. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that was full of passion and heat. No, it was better than that because it was full of love.

  “You’re special, Doc. I hope you know that,” she murmured before getting into the car.

  I didn’t know that, but she was making it clearer every day.

  I spent the entire morning out with what I was now referring to as the moms. Lucille and my momma had become inseparable, much like me and Doc. They had such fun together, and I couldn’t deny them when they asked if they could take me baby shopping. Doc encouraged me to go, saying he had to make arrangements for Hope and work to do. In truth, I wanted to be part of the arrangements, but there wasn’t much I could do but put my trust in him. And I was trying. I really was.

  Besides, I had a feeling Doc was trying to get rid of my ass for the day. I couldn’t quite figure out why, but I’d find out eventually. He couldn’t hide stuff from me for long.

  I was exhausted, but I’d had fun even with the occasional back pains I was having. I would have said that my date last night with Doc had been the best of my life, but really it had been the only real date, so I guess it was still true. He’d known exactly what I’d enjoy, and he’d made it happen. We’d come home and gotten into bed. He’d rubbed my aching back until I fell asleep.

  My Doc, he was good down to his soul. And stupid me, I was starting to believe that maybe this had all been fate. And I didn’t believe in fate. But somehow this whole thing felt entirely bigger than me. What else could I call it? The way Anthony had so effortlessly swept into our lives after all these years and fixed everything and somehow managed to love me, too. It had to be something greater than me. Something grander than him. Because together? We were pretty damn special.

  The moms and I had a great day, too, but being out late and not being able to sleep much as of late was wearing me out. I’d been having these sharp pains in my back on and off for the past day or so. I was wildly restless and cranky, but still I chugged on, bound and determined to get everything we would need for the baby.

  We picked out baby clothes and a small bassinet I could put next to my bed. A car seat and blankets and pacifiers. The list went on and on. My baby would be sick, so I knew there was even more I’d need to care for her. But it had been nice to celebrate her. Ever since I’d found out about her heart it seemed that every thought of her was filled with worry and fear. Today, I’d celebrated her life. Yes, today had been good. I’d needed it.

  I schlepped off the elevator with a few bags of clothes feeling like I could fall over any minute, the moms behind me with boxes galore. We were going to get ready for the baby today, and I was excited. I was also worn out and my feet felt swollen and heavy. We had tons of things to assemble and loads of baby clothes to wash. I opened the door to my apartment and immediately felt something was off. My drum set was gone. It was too clean, not a speck of glitter or crumbs in sight. I became suspicious. I dropped my bags on the couch and walked to the bedroom and noticed the bed was made. I never made my bed. Ever. You couldn’t get back into a made bed. Everyone knew that. And I always got back into bed if I could.

  I checked the closet, but it was empty, and I opened that drawer at the bottom of the dresser Anthony had so carelessly dumped all my shit in almost two months ago and it was empty, too. I growled low in my throat.

  If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed I’d been robbed, but I did know better and I knew Doc, too. Smug bastard. He couldn’t just move my stuff! I marched out into the living room where the moms must have seen the look on my face because they looked a little scared.

  They had the good sense to know you didn’t fuck with a fully pregnant woman.

  “Let’s go,” I growled. I snatched up the bags and they grabbed the boxes, and we went back down the elevator two floors while I fumed. What in the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t get to make all the decisions for me. He already made all the decisions for the baby. Why couldn’t that be enough for him?

  I could hear the moms whispering behind me as we exited the elevator and walked into Anthony’s apartment.

  He was sitting on the couch, papers spread on the coffee table in front of him. “Oh, good, you’re home.”

  I glared at him. “No, I’m not. My home is two floors up.”

  He pursed his lips and raised a long finger. “About that.”

  I dropped the bags and pushed my arm out and let my pointer finger fly. “No. No about that. You can’t just move my stuff without my permission.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “And yet, I did.”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned. The man was positively out of his ever-loving mind.

  “See, just like an old married couple.” Lucy snickered. “It’s adorable,” she whispered to my momma, but I heard everything they said because as we’d already established they were shit at whispering.

  “Calm down. We decided you were moving in.”

  He didn’t tell me to calm down. I told him to calm down.

  I felt my eyebrows hit my hairline and my pointer finger turned and hit my breast bone. “I didn’t decide I was moving in.”

  “We talked about this.”

  I shook my head. “No, we didn’t.”

  “We did,” he insisted.

  “I think I would have remembered a conversation where I agreed to move in with you, Doc.”

  He moved over to a spot in the living room behind the couch. “I was sitting right there and you were in my lap. I said you should move in.”

  “Oh my God, she was in his lap,” the moms said in unison and I wanted to hurt Anthony.

  My eyes got wide and then narrowed at him. “Stop,” I mouthed before saying out loud, “But I didn’t say yes.”

  He raised his eyebrows accusatorially. “Oh, you said yes a lot that day, especially in the kitchen in front of the refrigerator.”

  The moms tittered and my glare flew to them.

  They had the good sense to look embarrassed. “We’ll just go make some iced tea,” my momma said, pulling Lucy along as she left the room.

  I pulled my gaze back to Anthony. “I didn’t say yes about moving in.”

  He walked to me. “But you kissed me and you came for me.”

  I looked back at the kitchen, praying the moms weren’t listening. “I didn’t have a choice! My body has a mind of its own.” I totally had a choice. I loved that kiss. I loved coming for him. My body heated up at the mere mention of it all.

  He wrapped his arms around me and rubbed his nose along mine. “I don’t know about you, short stuff, but all this kissing and coming talk is making me want to kiss the shit out of you. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom.”

  I wanted to drag him to the bedroom, too, but we had things to discuss and the moms in the kitchen most likely listening. “I’m not moving in with you, Doc.”

  He laughed. His lips were against mine. “You already did.”

  And as soon as I opened my mouth to object, he was on me. His tongue sliding along mine, his teeth nipping the co
rners of my lips, his mouth wet and hot on mine. My eyes rolled closed. God, the man could kiss and he knew it. He kissed me like he owned me. He kissed me like he could kiss me for a thousand years and he still wouldn’t get enough of my mouth. Damn him. It wasn’t right. He’d always get his way if he used his kisses against me. They were my kryptonite.

  “Move in with me.” He continued his assault of my lips when I didn’t answer. “Come on, make me the happiest man in the world,” he finished, his lips against mine.

  Mmmm. If I moved in he could kiss me like this all the time. Maybe give me a few of those orgasms he liked to talk about so often. Every day. And he wouldn’t have to leave after we watched TV at night. We could go to bed and curl up against each other. We’d done that the other night and it had been so nice. I couldn’t come up with a good reason to tell him no besides my own damn pride.

  “Well, I guess I’ll stay since all my stuff is here.”

  The moms cheered from the kitchen and I rolled my eyes, but Anthony paid them no mind.

  “Yeah?” He looked happy. And I decided then and there I wanted more than anything for my Doc to always be happy.

  I nodded. He smiled and kissed me again. And again. And again.

  It didn’t matter how late we’d stayed out the night before or how tired I was. I was always up early nowadays, and the past two days I’d had some lower back pain that was wearing on me. I’d read on the good ole baby center app that it was common for sleep to evade you in the late stages of pregnancy and I was definitely in the late stages and sleep, well, it felt like I hadn’t had any in ages.

  Part of me was eager for this to all be over. But the smart part of me, the part of me that knew my baby girl was safer inside of me than outside of me, just wanted her to stay put a little longer. I was uncomfortable and tired, yes, but I’d be uncomfortable and tired for her as long as I needed to be.

  So, I gave up on sleep around 4:00 a.m. It pained me to leave a warm Anthony in the bed, but at least one of us needed their sleep and clearly that one wasn’t going to be me. I watched him sleep for a few minutes before finally leaving the bed and cleaning the dishes from last night’s pasta. I immediately went to work on what felt like autopilot. I did a load of baby clothes in the sweet smelling baby detergent my momma had bought for me. I sat on the couch and folded the tiny pieces of clothes until the sun came up and the small twinge in my back began growing again.

  Anthony got up around six and made us breakfast while I checked my hospital bag to make sure everything was packed. After we ate, we spent the morning putting the bassinet together and putting the freshly washed sheet on it.

  As the day went on, I became increasingly agitated. My back was killing me and I was exhausted but couldn’t rest. I needed to make sure everything was ready. Why I felt the need to do everything that day, I didn’t know. I just knew it had to be done.

  I was setting the dinner plates and Anthony was in the kitchen when all disaster struck. I leaned over the table to lay a napkin next to a plate when I felt a small pop, almost like I’d sprung a leak. Warm liquid ran down one of my legs and into my sock. I looked down, shocked I’d peed on myself. Don’t get me wrong, there’d been plenty of close calls over the past couple months. A baby sitting on your bladder was no joke, but I’d never actually peed on myself.

  I hustled to the bathroom, hoping Anthony hadn’t noticed. I pulled my pants off thinking that it sure was a lot of pee and more was still coming. And that’s when I realized it. Holy shit. I hadn’t peed on myself. My water had broken. Only I’d convinced myself that something like that only happened in the movies. Shit like this didn’t happen to women in real life. Just the moment I realized how wrong I was, the pain in my back spread across my front and I felt like my whole midsection was being squeezed and pulled apart simultaneously.

  “Fuck,” I grunted and held on to the bathroom counter while I crouched a little. That seemed to help. After a minute or so the pain passed, and I managed to get my pants and underwear off. I was going to keep my cool. I was not going to freak out. We were having a baby today and people had been having babies since the beginning of time. I could do it, too.

  I found some panties and pants in the bedroom and slipped them on. “Doc,” I called.

  “You ready to eat?” He came into the room.

  I still sat on the bed, trying to get dry socks on my feet. It was no easy feat, let me tell you.

  He took the socks from my hands and kneeled down in front of me. I would’ve objected, but I was in labor. He rolled them onto my feet.

  “I’m in labor.” I never was one to beat around the bush.

  His eyes flew to mine. “What?”

  “My water just broke all over the dining room.” And another contraction rolled through me. “Shit,” I groaned.

  “How far apart are the contractions?”

  I leaned forward and rested my elbows on his shoulders. It felt better curled up like that. “How the hell am I supposed to know? I didn’t even realize I was having contractions until my water broke. Maybe five minutes?”

  “Fuck,” he said sharply into my ear, holding me through the pain.

  “I know. I think I’ve been contracting for the past day or so. I didn’t realize it felt like back pain. I’ve never done this before.”

  He rubbed my back. “I know, baby. We need to get your bag and get you to the hospital.”

  He was right. All of the numerous doctors I’d met with had all agreed that a natural birth was best for the baby. A trip through the birth canal made sure the baby lost all the extra fluid on her body and in her lungs. It was best for her. She’d come that way. And then I’d get to hold her for just a few moments before they took her straightaway to surgery. Most babies born with this particular heart defect didn’t experience problems until fifteen minutes to twenty-four hours after birth. So, I’d have just a small amount of time with her. And I was more than happy with that. I’d take the minutes with her right after birth.

  The contraction passed, and I got off the bed further embarrassed. The spot I’d sat in was soaked and so were my pants again. Who the hell knew having a baby was so damn messy?

  “I’m sorry, Doc.” I was near tears.

  He pulled me into a tight embrace. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. We’re having a baby today.”

  We.

  That word washed over me in the best possible way. We. Me and Doc. Team Hope. God, he made me so happy. He was too damn good to me.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. “I know, but now there’s a wet spot on your bed.”

  “Our bed.”

  I wasn’t touching that subject with a ten-foot pole right now. We had enough on our hands.

  “It’s ruined. And in the dining room.”

  His hands settled on my cheeks in that way I’d grown to love and had become so familiar with. He smiled down at me. “Everything is fixable. It’s okay.” He placed a soft, close-mouthed kiss to my lips and let me go.

  I walked to the closet to get my bag while Anthony packed his own. Another rip-roaring contraction shot through me and I wobbled on my feet. I’d never experienced a pain so raw, so completely real in my life. It almost brought me to my knees. I blew long breaths, trying to get through it, and that’s when I felt it. A sort of drop, like a bowling ball was sitting right between my legs. My pants and socks were even wetter now, and I started to panic about Anthony’s car, but I didn’t know if that was going to matter because it felt like the baby’s head was right there, getting ready to come out any minute. I braced my hand on the wall and shouted, “Doc!”

  He entered the closet just as I hit my knees. I couldn’t stand anymore. I was in too much pain. Something was wrong. Why did it hurt so much? I hadn’t quite prepared myself for so much pain.

  “What happened?” he said, squatting down next to me.

  “I don’t know,” I panted. “But I don’t think we are going to make it to the hospital.”

  “What?” His eyes darted around th
e closet in a panic. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. We couldn’t have our sick baby in a closet. Even if it was a large and beautifully smelling one.

  A sudden unexplainable urge to push came over me and I leaned forward onto my hands and rocked my body back and forth on my knees. I should have been embarrassed, horrified at the situation, but the pain overshadowed everything. All I could think was I needed to push and I’d feel better.

  “I have to push,” I grunted. Sweat poured from my hair and onto my forehead.

  “No, baby, you can’t push. We have to get to the hospital.”

  Oh, no, he couldn’t panic now. A baby was coming any minute. I knew it. “No, Anthony. The baby is coming. Do you understand me? I have to fucking push!”

  My harsh words snapped him out of whatever panicked state he was in, and he dashed to the cell phone.

  “I need an ambulance. My girlfriend is in labor. Now. The child has a heart defect. Hypoplastic Right Heart Syndrome. We need an ambulance immediately.” He rattled off our address, but I barely noticed. The pain was making me feel dizzy and sick to my stomach.

  And then he was back in the closet with me, his own sheet of sweat on his forehead. He kneeled behind me and ripped my pants and panties down my legs. I lifted my feet so he could get them the rest of the way off.

  “Lean forward and spread your legs a little.”

  I leaned forward, laying my forehead on my arms as a fresh new pain swept through me. I groaned and blew air through it, praying this would end soon. Terrified it would end in the wrong way. I should have been horrified at Anthony behind me, kneeling between my legs, but I just couldn’t feel anything but panic and pain.

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “Okay, that’s good, right? Maybe the ambulance will get here in time. Everything is gonna be fine,” I said more to myself than Anthony.

  “I don’t know, baby. Your contractions are really close together.” He crawled around to my head to look me in the face. “I haven’t delivered a baby in a long time, not since my residency.”