The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance

by Fabiola Francisco

  She nods, and her smile grows.

  “We know his middle name will be James.”

  Ally nods, tucking her lips into her mouth. “Thank you for that,” she whispers.

  “No need to thank me, babe.” I kiss her.

  “Tell me your ideas.” She perks up and cuddles into me.

  “I already mentioned Jasper, Isaac, and Liam. I also like Ryker, Andrew, and Reilly,” I say.

  Her expression is pensive. “I thought of Walker or Colton. I like Ryker, too.”

  “And I like Walker. So, Walker or Ryker?” I ask, and she yawns in response. Chuckling, I kiss her forehead. “How about we sleep on it and see our favorites after a nap?”

  “Yes,” she nods, her eyes already closing.

  “Sleep, Kiwi. I’ve got you.”

  Before long, my eyes are also closing, and I dream of a brown-haired boy with green eyes calling me Daddy.

  chapter 31

  Allyson

  The past couple of weeks have been interesting. Camden and I have gotten used to living together since I bombarded his life and moved to Richmond without any real plan but to be with him.

  Faith has been helping us find a house in Everton, sending me links or pictures of any places she comes across that she thinks would be great for our family. God bless my sister-in-law for all her help. It hasn’t been easy between my pregnancy, Camden’s work and preparing his clients for our move, and my stress that the baby will be here in just ten weeks.

  The last thing I want is to be mid-move when our baby boy decides to make his entrance earth-side. I place my hand on my growing stomach and sigh, leaning back into the sofa. I look around the living room, and my heart begins to race as my anxiety peaks.

  I haven’t unpacked all of my things since we’ll be moving at some point, but it’s made it difficult to find everything I need. Camden has made space in his closet and dresser for me, but it’s still all a pile of mess.

  Taking a deep breath, I stand from the couch and continue sorting some of my belongings into one of my suitcases as I look for a clean pair of leggings. Groaning as I bend to grab the leggings, my hand flies to my stomach mid-reach when I feel a cramp press into me.

  I cry out in pain, and my other hand slams against the wall, holding myself up. Then, I feel a warm liquid trail down my legs. My heart races as panic sets in, and tears burn my eyes. I whip around on autopilot, looking for my phone, and call an ambulance. I grab my purse, so I have my ID on me and scream out when another cramp takes over, my purse landing on the floor.

  Please be okay, baby boy.

  Crippling fear holds me in place as my arms cradle my belly as if I were holding my son. Tears soak my face as I try to catch my breath. I sigh when the door swings open. Camden halts when he sees me, his eyes widening.

  “What’s wrong?” His words rush out, and he’s by my side immediately.

  “The baby,” I choke out. “Called 911.” My face twists again, the pain coming stronger.

  “He’s early.” Camden combs a hand through his hair. “Too fucking early.” He starts making his way around the apartment, grabbing my purse off the floor and other things that I can’t see. I don’t care about clean clothes, only that my baby is okay.

  It’s all a blur when I hear Camden guide the paramedics into the apartment. I faintly hear what they say above the gushing sound in my ears. Thankfully, Camden is by my side

  the entire time, holding my hand and promising me a future together with our son. I hope to God he’s right.

  In the ambulance, I explain what happened and how I felt like my water broke in between asking how the baby is doing and if we’ll be okay. Once we arrive at the hospital, I’m wheeled into the emergency room with Camden walking beside me, his face marred with worry and fear. I reach for his hand with my IV-clad one and squeeze his fingers.

  I’ve never been so scared in my life.

  Everything happens so fast. Checking my vitals, the baby’s vitals, questions thrown at Camden and me. The next thing I know, I’m in labor, and our son will be born prematurely.

  Throughout it all, my heart slams in my chest as nausea threatens to rear its ugly head. I’m terrified of what this all means, even if the doctor has assured me that women have premature babies often.

  I look over at Camden, talking to the doctor, and my eyes mist over. I want this family with him. My eyes squeeze shut when my stomach contracts again in a painful cramp. Camden is by my side in a rush, and the doctor is checking on me, doing whatever her responsibility is, which I count includes keeping my baby and me alive and well.

  “I’m scared, Cam,” I whisper as his hand brushes my hair away from my forehead, and his lips smooth over my skin there. I was supposed to have more time. My baby boy is supposed to have more time to get stronger.

  “I’m with you, Kiwi. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  A sob rips through me, and Camden holds me in his arms. He can’t keep promises that are out of his control.

  - - - - -

  Camden

  I’ve never, in my fucking life, felt so terrified, angry, and useless. There’s nothing I can do but hold Ally and keep empty promises that hold no weight. If I were God, I’d promise her the world, but right now, I’m questioning where the fuck God even is.

  The doctor told me that a baby born at thirty weeks has a ninety-five percent chance of surviving if there are no complications. The fact that I don’t have a one-hundred percent statistic makes me anxious and stressed.

  “I’ll be right back,” I whisper in Ally’s hair when she gets her emotions under control. She nods silently, but I see the fear in her eyes.

  I step out of the hospital room and run a hand down my face. I’m trying to be strong for her, so she doesn’t see my cracks, but I’m only human. I’m scared like she is—that I’ll lose our son and the woman I love. I need a moment to compose myself and continue being strong for her.

  If I hadn’t gone to a meeting today, if I would’ve stayed home like I wanted, I could’ve been there for her. I would’ve kept an eye on her, making sure nothing was off, and we wouldn’t be here now. I could’ve prevented it.

  I drop to my knees in the stark hallway and clasp my hands.

  God, I know I haven’t been the best example of a Christian life, and I have no right to ask you this, but keep Ally and our son safe. Fuck, I’m even too selfish to offer my life for hers because I’m not done living by her side. I’m not done making a life with her. Please, God.

  Tears fall down my face, and I don’t give a shit what I look like. The love of my life is fighting for her life, and there’s nothing I can do but hold her hand.

  Don’t let her die.

  “Dad?” I look up to see one of Ally’s nurses standing above me. “It’s time.”

  I nod, sniffing, and scrub my eyes so Ally won’t see any trace of my turmoil. My heart pounds as I follow her into the room and see Ally crying out. “Cam?” She asks through her clenched jaw.

  “I’m here, Kiwi.” Those greens eyes peek up at me, an array of emotions reflecting back at me. She nods, swallowing a lump when her throat bobs and grips my hand.

  I’m not sure what happens after. There’s coaching from the doctor, Ally squeezing my hand as she pushes, a nurse guiding her to breathe. It all happens in fast forward and all at once. I don’t know where to focus or what to do besides keep my hand in Ally’s and whisper loving words.

  Before long, we hear a wailing sound, and I watch the doctor lift our son. He’s tiny in her hands, and I can’t help but choke up. I look at Ally, who is crying as well, and bend to kiss her swollen lips.

  “I love you,” I murmur.

  The doctor asks me if I want to cut the umbilical cord after they’ve allowed some time for what the doctor explained was umbilical cord milking. Something about keeping the blood flow from the mom to the baby a couple minutes after birth, so the baby receives all the nutrients it can.

  I stare at my son as I clamp the umbilica
l cord, his small body staring at me. I wipe my eyes and smile.

  “He’s going to be okay if I can help it,” the doctor promises.

  I nod and thank her, going back to Ally as the medical team cares for our son in the room. They announce he weighs three pounds and is fourteen inches long, not too far from a full-term baby in that respect. I’m more concerned about his organs working properly.

  “How do you feel?” I ask Ally.

  “I’m still scared, but I’m relieved he was born okay.”

  When the doctor explains that our son will be transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit, Ally and I both jump at her with questions. She assures us we’ll be able to visit him as soon as Ally recovers from giving birth.

  “Walker James,” I whisper once Ally and I are alone in the room.

  “What?” Her brows scrunch together as her head tips back to look at me. We were torn between Ryker and Walker, but after seeing him, Walker is perfect.

  “Walker James, that’s his name.”

  The smile that greets me is priceless. “Really?”

  “Yes, babe.” I kiss her.

  “Tell me about him. What does he look like?” I wish we were able to hold him, but I know he needs to be with the doctor and nurses right now.

  “He’s small but strong. He’s beautiful.” Ally scoots over on the bed for me to join her as I continue telling her the little I was able to see and how damn proud I am of her. I’ve never witnessed anyone fight the way she did today, and I’m in awe.

  When her breathing evens out, and her eyes close, I hold her to my chest and keep her safe. My promise to her and Walker, from this day forward, is to always keep them safe. It’s an honor to take on that role.

  I look at the door when it opens and wave Charlene in. Careful not to wake Ally, I scoot off the bed and talk to her. Charlene’s eyes are marred with worry lines. I called her as soon as we arrived at the hospital, but she was in the middle of a class and drove over as soon as she finished.

  “They’re okay,” I assure her. When her arms wrap around me, and she begins to cry, my heart breaks.

  “Will they make it?” Her broken words punch me in the gut.

  “Yes,” I promise her.

  “I’ve been so worried. I came as soon as I could.” Charlene steps back to look at me. “How are you?”

  “Scared. We have a long journey ahead of us. The baby will stay in the NICU for seven weeks to be monitored. If they feel he’s strong enough and ready to be discharged after those seven weeks, we can take him home with us.”

  “He will be,” she assures me with a squeeze of my hand. “I see Ally’s sleeping.”

  “Yeah, she fell asleep a few minutes ago.” I run a hand through my hair.

  “Get some rest, too. I’ll bring you both something to eat in a bit.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  Charlene shakes her head. “I want to. My first grandchild was born today, under tense circumstances, and I’m going to take care of my family.”

  I nod, giving her that much, and get back on the bed with Ally.

  chapter 32

  Allyson

  I never knew how much my life would change after having a child. More so, having a premature baby. The last few weeks have been more stressful than I could’ve imagined. From the time my water broke until today, it’s all been a daze and a flurry of emotions.

  Walker was tiny compared to what I imagined he’d look like, but he is getting stronger each day. I’ve been dealing with guilt—feeling at fault for his early birth. A psychologist in the hospital has been crucial in my healing. She’s assured me time and again that nothing that happened is my fault, but I should’ve been able to protect him from this.

  Clearing my mind of those negative thoughts, I gently stroke the back of Walker’s head as he lies on my chest. We’ve been doing skin-to-skin contact starting a few days after he was born to help with our bonding. Both Camden and I have had the opportunity to hold him, and the feeling is inexplicable.

  This isn’t how I imagined spending the first few weeks with my newborn, but I’m grateful that his health is okay, and so is mine. Every worst-case-scenario raced through my mind, but we’re doing well now and on the road to recovery.

  My family and friends have visited, all of them offering support, for which I’ll forever be grateful. They’ve bought preemie clothes and diapers that we were unprepared for. Berkeley and Noel even bought Walker a small onesie that says, Small but Mighty.

  “Hey.” I turn to when I hear Faith whisper. She and Easton flew down to support us and help us get Camden’s apartment ready for a newborn. Until Walker is one-hundred-and-ten percent healthy, we won’t be moving to Everton.

  “Hi,” I whisper back, keeping my arms around my son.

  “How is he?” She smiles kindly, lowering her head to see his sleeping face.

  “He’s better. Day by day, right?” I give her a closed-lip smile.

  “Yeah, Ally. Things will only get better.” Faith rubs my back in encouragement.

  “Thanks. Did Camden come with you?”

  “Yeah, he’s outside talking to a nurse. He’ll be right in.” I nod and look at Walker. I still don’t know who he looks like, but I don’t even care. I’m just glad he’s breathing with minimal support.

  He’s been incubated for three weeks, with another four weeks to go. However, the doctor told us that if he continues to improve at the rate he has, we may be able to leave earlier, especially if he can begin breastfeeding this week.

  Faith strokes Walker’s back. “I’m so glad he’s okay. How are you?” Her eyes meet mine as the weight of her question settles between us.

  I shrug, swallowing back my emotions, but that doesn’t stop the tears from welling my eyes. “I’m okay. I have my moments, but I’m pushing through them for him.” I gaze down at my baby boy, innocent and perfect. I won’t let him down.

  “You’ve gone through a lot of changes—hormonal, physical, and emotional—it’s only normal. Add in the scare of premature birth. You look good, though.” My sister-in-law smiles.

  “Thanks.” Changing subjects, I ask, “Any new houses in Everton pop up?” I lift my eyebrows.

  “I may have found a few,” she winks. “I’ll show you tonight.”

  The one thing I hate is leaving Walker here at night and going home without him. Camden usually finds me crying in the bathroom, and he tries his best to support and hold me, and I love him even more for that.

  Faith leaves us in the NICU when Camden walks in so he can have his bonding time with Walker. We sit quietly for a bit once Walker is in the incubator again. Our thighs graze, and his hand searches for mine. I lean my head on his shoulder and my other hand sneaks into the opening in the incubator so I can touch Walker.

  “I love you.” Camden pushes my hair aside and kisses the top of my head.

  “Love you, too.” I lift my head to look him in the eye. “So much. Thank you for being my rock during this time. I don’t think you know how much it means to me.” I inch closer to kiss him.

  “More like you’ve been my rock.” His hand cups my cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He swallows thickly, his throat clogging with emotions. “The thought that I could’ve lost you, both of you.” His eyes move to our son. “I couldn’t have handled it.” His rough thumb brushes my cheek. I turn my head and drop a kiss on his palm.

  “We’re here with you.”

  “I know,” he murmurs, dropping his forehead against mine.

  “I’m glad this happened when I was here and not alone in Madrid,” I confess. The thought of going through this alone is a million times scarier than it already was.

  “Me, too. I’d never forgive myself for not being there for you.”

  I look at him, my eyebrows pulling together. “None of this was your fault, nor would it have been.”

  “I just wish—”

  “No,” I interrupt him. “This isn’t your fault,” I repeat sternly. �
��Don’t think that for one second.”

  “You either,” he counters. I nod, bringing his face to mine and kissing him.

  We get updates as the nurse does her check-up on Walker as he gets fed, and I get to hold him a little longer before saying goodnight to our son and heading home.

  Exhausted, I hold Camden’s hand as we head up to his apartment. I stop in my tracks when I see a dresser and changing table set up in the bedroom and a small bassinet next to the bed that were not there this morning. My eyes fill with tears as I look around.

  “Thank you,” I tell Easton when I see him in the living room. My brother wraps me in a comforting hug, running a soothing hand down my back.

  “You’re welcome, Ally. We’re here for you.”

  I nod against his chest, squeezing my eyes shut to trap the tears. I’m tired of crying.

  “How about we order pizza and hang?” He looks down at me with a small smile.

  “Yeah,” I nod. Faith and Camden are talking in the kitchen area, discussing which pizza topping is the best.

  Having Easton and Faith here for the past week has made me more excited and confident that moving to Everton is the right choice. It’s also brought Easton and Camden closer together again after the tension between them when Easton found out about Camden and my relationship.

  “Ally, tell her pineapple is a pizza topping.” Camden looks at me for support.

  I giggle and shake my head. “You’re on your own on this one. You know I don’t like pineapples on pizza.”

  “You ate it last time we had pizza.” He crosses his arms and arches a brow.

  “Pregnancy cravings make me eat weird shit.” I shrug.

  Faith laughs and high-fives me. “No pineapples.”

  “Sellout,” Camden says playfully.

  “I still love you.” I lean in for a kiss, which causes Easton to groan. “Get over it.” I look at my brother over my shoulder.

  For the first time in weeks, I feel like myself, and I want to hold on to this feeling for as long as I can.