by Dee Palmer
“My wedding gift to you two, the sickeningly happy couple, is full and exclusive use of the Ambrosia. She will be at your complete disposal. As you know, I leave in the morning, but you are welcome to start your stay tonight. You can sail back to the UK or around the Mediterranean for your honeymoon. The choice is yours.” He clinks his Champagne flute against mine and against Sam’s glass of orange juice, to seal his generous offer.
“Really?” Sam looks to me for my reaction. Hell, cruising in that yacht anywhere would be fine by me, even better now that I know Gabriel will no longer be breathing down my neck.
“My pleasure, Sam.” Gabriel takes her hand and kisses the back. I take note and a good deal of pleasure from the fact that he no longer needs to correct himself with his choice of words when addressing my wife.
“That is very kind, Gabriel. We’ll get our things packed and bring them over tonight.”
“Nonsense, my man will do that. The Ambrosia is yours. I have a prior engagement tonight and leave at dawn, so I will say my farewells now, if you don’t mind.” He places his glass on the table and grabs his jacket from the back of a chair.
“I don’t.” The smile on my face is meant to soften the clipped delivery. Gabriel laughs, so I know he didn’t take offence.
“Thank you, Gabe, for everything.” Sam swings her slim arms around Gabriel’s neck, taking him by surprise, evinced by the arch of his brow and the rod-like stiffness in his back. His meaty arms quickly wrap around her waist, and he squeezes. I bite back the jealous wave rolling in my gut. She may have a great deal to thank him for, but I still don’t trust the charming fucker. I tug her out of his hold and watch as his brows wriggle with mischief. I’m so right about him.
“Okay, beautiful, let’s go and make the most of Gabriel’s kind offer, shall we?” I shake Gabriel’s hand and pull her away. She’s waving and skipping along to keep up with my long strides. I have had enough sharing to last me a lifetime. Now she’s truly mine, I just want to bury myself, consume and dive into her warm, silky body and not come up for air. I scoop her into my arms when I reach the entrance to the Palazzo.
“What are you doing?” She giggles and throws her head back with a bright, infectious smile.
“It’s tradition to carry my bride over the threshold.”
“Into our home, not out of the wedding venue.” There’s a hint of ridicule in her words, though she doesn’t shift in my arms to break free.
“Can’t be too careful.” I hoist her into a firmer grip and step over the entrance doorway.
“You’re an idiot.” She shakes her head with affectionate exasperation.
“Yes, but I’m your idiot.”
“Yes. Yes you are.” I drop my head so she can kiss me, her soft smile making it almost impossible for her to pucker up. Almost.
I walk us the entire way from the Palazzo, through the narrow streets, across San Marco square—much to the delight of the crowd—all the way to the Ambrosia. My stride doesn’t falter and my arms don’t even tire. I feel like fucking Hercules now she’s really mine.
Sam directs me to her suite and I kick the door wide and gently lay her on the bed. Something catches my eye in the crook of my arm, a dark spot on my white shirt. I left my jacket back at the Palazzo as it was too hot with the walk I had planned, but I don’t remember catching myself on anything sharp.
Sam suddenly groans, a strained and ugly discord slicing the perfect moment. The blood on my sleeve seems to be dripping onto Sam. No that’s not right, the blood is coming from Sam; large dark red, almost black spots start to appear just where Sam is cupping herself, doubled over in agony.
“Jason!” Her cry is almost silent as pain seems to rip through her, stealing the oxygen needed to make a sound.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” Even as I say the words her eyes glaze over, tears fall freely, and I know the answer before she mouths the words.
“Our baby.”
Four Years Later
“Jesus, you’re a pussy…A little bit of pain and you’re screaming like a big girl.” He wipes my brow will a cool damp cloth.
“I swear to God, Leon, I will rip your bollocks off if you make one more reference to how I’m handling pain. Where the hell is Jason? This is all his fault!” I groan the last word, which ends in an excruciating plea for more relief. The nurse looks kindly but fails to deliver any such help.
“Miss Sinclair…” The nurse pauses to take in the details of my chart.
“Missus,” I puff out through gritted teeth. “It’s Mrs Sinclair, but put that in pencil because it will be motherfucking Miss if he doesn’t show up soon.” I pant with barely contained vitriol.
Leon dares to defend my absent husband. “You’re early, Sam. He wouldn’t have gone if he thought you would blow. He’s not left your side since you found out you were pregnant again, not after last time, so cut the guy some slack.”
“Traitor!” I snarl and shuffle to all fours to try and get some relief. Nothing helps. I want Jason. I just want Jason.
I bury my head in my hands and rock, bracing myself for another contraction. Jason had left to pick up Roman. Today was the dress rehearsal for his first nativity play at nursery school, and Jason had volunteered to help. The school has lousy mobile reception. I told him to go. I wasn’t due for three weeks, and if this baby was anything like me, it was never going to be early. But oh no, it’s going to be just like Jason, who’s never late, except for now.
“Ahhh… Oh God, please, for the love of all that’s holy, give me some drugs!” I groan out my garbled plea just as the door bursts open and tears fill my eyes.
“You fucking bastard! You did this!” I growl. His face flashes from relief to concern and settles on shock at my venomous attack. I grit my teeth. “Where’s Roman? Please don’t tell me he just heard his mum curse like a sailor when I haven’t so much as whispered the f-word in three years.” I can’t believe this is worrying me with the pain that’s literally tearing my body in two, yet it does.
Three years ago last month Jason and I finally breathed a huge fucking sigh of relief when Roman was born, fit and healthy, and bang on time.
“She’s not handling the pain very well, and she’s only six centimetres, so you’re in for the long haul, buddy.” Leon walks up to Jason and slaps him on the shoulder. “I’m tagging out. Gonna go wash my ears out,” he quips. “Where’s the little munchkin?”
“He’s at the nurses’ station with his nana and gramps. Couldn’t get him past without all the hugging and cheek pinching. Kinda like his old man that way.” Jason shakes Leon’s hand and stands there like he’s just shooting the breeze.
“I’ll take him home with me, if you want. Charlie’s cooking spaghetti. On second thought, we’ll get take out.” They both laugh at Leon’s lame-ass joke.
“Oh please, carry on guys, don’t mind me!” I growl, my tone bordering on feral with the slight snarl.
“Yeah, maybe take him back to our place and stay there, if that’s okay? I think Mum and Dad will want to stay, and I don’t want to have to wake him up to bring him home when I’m done here. Think you’re right about a long night.” He chances a glance at me, and if I could move, he would be in so much trouble for that flip remark.
“Okay, you got it. Catch you later, baby!” Leon salutes on his way out.
I grimace because it’s all I can do right then; however, when I catch my breath, I yell, “Fucking coward!”
Leon steps back to me and kisses my sweat-covered brow. He offers a kind smile that I fail to acknowledge. “Good luck, babe. You can do this. You are strong like bull.” He wipes my wet hair free from my face and turns to leave.
“Oh God!” I cry out and Jason is at my side. His hands hover. He doesn’t know which bits are okay to touch. I meet his eyes, only my vision blurs with the tears.
“You’re doing so well, beautiful.” His voice is firm and calm. I feel instantly better with him beside me, but the pain is too much.
“It really hurts,
Jason.” I sniff with a sad sob when the contraction ebbs enough for me to speak.
“I know baby, but you are amazing. You are stronger than any woman I know. You are stronger than most men. You got this. Remember last time, you swallowed all that pain for another six long months and gave birth to the most amazing little boy out there. All the time you worried like crazy, and he’s perfect, right? Just like you. Now focus on breathing through that pain and I’ll massage any tension right out of you, okay?”
I nod at his words and love how his focus is so intense and sure. He exudes confidence, and right now, I need every bit as I feel the seed of panic start to swell.
“Okay.” A wave of pain blankets me, and I let out a heartrending howl. I know this pain, and it doesn’t come from contractions.
“Not again! Jason, I’m going to lose the baby!” I sob, grab his hand, and meet the horror in his eyes, which must reflect mine.
“You’re not! I said it last time and I’ll say it again, Sam, you are not losing this baby.”
His words are firm, and just like last time, I believe him. I’m terrified, yet I look into his eyes and believe every word. I give a sharp nod, then crumple.
“The pain is different,” I gasp. Jason stretches to hit the alarm, and I can’t breathe from the agony tearing up my insides. The room is suddenly filled with people—too many people. Jason is pulled away, but I won’t release his hand. “Don’t leave me.” I feel the icy cold liquid flow up my arm, then the instant soft blanket of sweet numbness covers me. I lose my vision before my hearing goes.
“I don’t care. If you take her without me and she dies, you’re next!” My lips are numb but I think they would be smiling with approval. My man…he won’t leave me. He saved me, he saved Roman, and now, he will save this baby too.
My mouth is so dry, and my chest feels like it’s been in a vice. I struggle to sit up and freeze with the pain. I no longer have my bump. I look over to see Jason asleep in the chair. My eyes quickly dart around the room and find there is no baby. Oh my God! Please no. I feel the tears instantly soak my face, so many tears I can’t keep them silent. I don’t want to wake Jason. I can’t bear to look and see the loss in his dark brown eyes. I try to hold the sobs back with the bed sheet wedged at my mouth, but it doesn’t work. Jason is at my side with the very first whimper.
“Shh, shh, Sam…Hey, beautiful, why are you crying? Are you in pain?” He strokes my hair and wipes my face dry with his palm but there are too many tears.
“Our baby?” I splutter, devastation in my voice.
“Is doing fine. The little lady is in NICU but she’s fucking perfect, Sam, just like her brother. You were amazing.” He wraps his arms around me and I fall. I can’t hold anything back. I sob with relief. I sob with joy. I just sob. “Hey, hey, come on, beautiful. We’ll go see her together, okay?” He kisses my head and I hold him a little tighter, as if my life depended on it, on him.
“I thought—” I swallow the dry lump, but can’t speak.
“I know, baby, I know. And if you hadn’t told me you felt something was wrong…” He shakes his head and pushes the dark thoughts away for both of us. “You did tell me, and that precious amount of time saved you both. I stayed with you the whole time. I held your hand and watched the doctor lift her from your body. I was too fucking scared to breathe until they told me you were going to be fine.” He cups my face in his large, sure hands, and his soft lips kiss away the tears that are still falling. His gaze is so raw, intense, and pure it pierces my very core. I feel him in my soul. His minty breath whispers over my face. “I held her for a brief moment, and she’s perfect, Sam. She’s fucking perfect.”
“She?” I sniff back the last of the fearful tears, swallowing them as Jason’s words finally take a comforting hold. We had scans only we didn’t want to know. I wanted to be surprised. I didn’t realise my surprise would be that my baby was alive.
“Let’s go see her, yeah?” Jason’s face lights up with obvious pride and I feel overwhelmed and start to cry again. “Yes, I think you need to see her right now.” He kisses my head and disappears, briefly retuning with a wheelchair. I feel like a hot mess, but I can still walk. I push myself up and wince at the tight pinch and pull across my lower abdomen.
“No arguments, Sam. I’d carry you myself but apparently that’s frowned upon.” He winks, and I reluctantly let him lift me into to chair. It hurts like a fresh hell just to sit upright. I’ll save the agony of standing and walking for another day.
We pass through some double doors, and at the end of the long corridor, I recognise Leon with his nose pressed against the glass holding Roman, the other light of my life, in his arms. Jason leans down to whisper as he continues to push me forward.
“They have stayed there the whole time. They wanted to keep guard until you came.” He kisses my cheek and I lean into his touch. Leon turns and flashes a wide, tired smile.
“Hey babe…you did good.” He strides toward me and kisses my other cheek. Roman’s little cheeky face beams with the cutest chubby smile and he flails his arms, wriggling in Leon’s hold.
“Mummy, I have a baby!” he squeals and lunges for me, but Leon holds him high enough for Jason to swoop in and intercept my gorgeous little miracle before he lands in my tender lap. It kills me not to hold him, though he’d not like to see me howl in agony when he jumps around like he always does. That boy has permanent ants in his pants.
My wedding night was the stuff of nightmares, emergency helicopter rides, transfusions, and six months of bedrest, but despite the bleeding and the godawful pain I didn’t lose him. He was born in late September and looks just like his daddy. I had a caesarean because the doctors were worried a natural birth would not go so well and because of the first pregnancy trauma I had another one booked this time. The doctors were right, only I didn’t hold on long enough to avoid this particular emergency.
“So I’ve heard, baby boy.” I ruffle his tousled locks and kiss him before Jason lifts him back into his arms. I turn my head, smiling at my boys. “Would kinda like to see for myself though.” Jason winks and has spun me round and is backing us through the door to the neonatal unit. Roman’s now balanced and giggling on his shoulders. Leon follows and falls into step beside me.
Jason parks me beside the incubator with the tiny pink baby with a thick shock of dark brown hair and a nappy that looks set to fall from her tiny body if she moves. She has just one wire with a pad on her chest but she looks perfect. A nurse appears and smiles kindly.
“Hello, my name is Angela, you must be Mum.” She pauses, only I don’t respond. I’m still dazed that the tiny bundle in front of me is our baby. “Would you like a cuddle?”
“Yes.” Leon says at the same time I timidly answer.
“I don’t want to hurt her. If she needs to be in there that’s fine I can just watch. If that’s okay?” I can feel my eyes fill with tears, but I’m not sad. If I have to wait a day, a month to hold her, I don’t care. She’s alive and she’s ours, and that makes me the luckiest woman in the world.
“Oh she’s a strong little one, and you won’t hurt her. She’s only in here for a little extra observation. I think you’ll be able to take her back with you in a day or two,” Angela explains, all the while unclipping the cable and wrapping my baby’s little body tight in a blanket. She scoops her up and hands her to my waiting arms. I’m a riotous mix of nerves and terror. Is this normal? Yes, I remember the exact same feeling holding Roman for the first time and thinking the same thing. She’s so small.
“I was terrified when I held her the first time too.” Jason kisses my cheek again and runs his little finger against our daughter’s tightly fisted hand.
“Me too,” Leon confesses.
“When did you hold her?” Jason queries, his expression looks like thunder and I swear I feel the room temperature drop.
“I’ve been standing guard and they sort of assumed I was the dad.” Leon shrugs lightly.
“Sort of assumed?” Jas
on narrows his eyes with suspicion and Leon has the grace to shift under his scrutiny.
“Well, they asked if I was the dad, and I didn’t deny it. I just said that I’d love her like my own. Which, if this little guy is anything to go by, is the truth.” He ruffles Roman’s mop of dark hair, and I smile. My heart is fit to burst as it takes on a little more love for my friend. “It’s okay, they probably think we’re have some sort of weird polygamous thing going on,” Leon quips, flashing me a playful wink. Jason growls but I shush him. Jason never asked for a paternity test even when it was very clear Roman wasn’t Leon’s, though after a year, I paid to have it done. I knew it no longer made a difference. Still, I was so confident Jason was Roman’s father he deserved the certainty.
“Tell me this is real,” I whisper.
“This is real, beautiful.” He slides Roman off his shoulders and onto the ground. He crouches until his face is millimetres from mine.
“Kiss me.” He instantly covers my lips with a kiss that is both tender and proprietary.
“Tell me again.” My lips are swollen from his kiss, and my smile is spread wide across my face.
“This is very real, Mrs Sinclair. You are my wife, this is our adorable son, and this is our perfect baby girl.” His clarification is absolute.
“What’s her name? Unless you really do want me to keep calling her little Leona.” Leon wisely steps back with his hands up.
“You haven’t?” My words convey a warning. He shrugs and gives a wolfish grin. I narrow my eyes, then turn to Jason. “So what’s her name?”
“I thought you liked Mads?” He looks from me to our daughter. Her tiny dark features and light olive skin are a carbon copy of her older brother, just a fraction more petite.
“When I thought it was a boy maybe. Feels a bit masculine for such a pretty face.” I lift her higher in my arms to kiss the soft fluff of dark hair and sniff her perfect baby smell.
“Little Leona it is then.” Leon winks at me, and I chuckle when he winks at Jason before turning and leaving us alone.