Baby Love Me

by Rosie Praks

  “Clarice.” Hunter’s voice trembled and a tear dripped from his eye. He held her hand and gripped it tight. “I’m sorry.”

  Clarice rested her forehead against Hunter’s. She held his face between her palms and wiped away his tears.

  “Please, stop apologizing, Hunter,” she cried. “I didn’t mean for our misunderstanding to go on this long.”

  “Clarice, I love you so much. I love you so much.” Hunter hugged her again. “You’re such a beautiful person, and I’m so glad to have found you. I love you. I love you.”

  “Hunter,” Clarice spoke again, her voice resonating the love she had for this man. “You’re my everything. And I give you another chance. Yes. I want us to live together again. I want us to raise our baby together. I want to tell you… that I love—”

  And then she felt a sharp cramp, a pop, and liquid began to trickle down her legs.

  Chapter 21

  The pain was excruciating. It was like a thousand needles pierced into her lower back. How did women do it, giving birth to a baby? Clarice thought as she writhed in the hospital bed, her head thrashing from side to side, trying to suppress the pain in her lower stomach and back.

  The pain originally started as a cramp in her lower back, which then spread and radiated out until it reached her stomach. Now it lay dormant there, wrapping its claws around her backside too, throbbing there like someone was stabbing her with a knife.

  Why is it so painful? Why does each contraction have to last longer than the one before? Why do they come and go? Please, dear heaven, please help me. She didn’t think she could last much longer. It was so painful, so utterly painful that she wanted to scream out her discomfort, hoping to relieve her pain. So when another wave of pain rushed forward, her body shuddered and she opened her lips, screaming out for Hunter to come to her.

  “Hunter!” she cried, tears washing her eyes. “Where are you, Hunter?”

  “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

  Hunter, who was busy looking for nurses outside, came rushing back to Clarice’s side when he heard her scream. He took her hands into his and held them tight.

  “It’s all right, baby. I’m here,” he spoke soothingly so she wouldn’t panic.

  Inside, Hunter was braving a storm. He was so scared. He wanted to panic, but in this situation, he had to be strong. Clarice needed him.

  “I’m sore, Hunter. So sore.”

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, kissing her hands. “I’ll go and get the midwife. I’ll be right back, baby. Hang in there for a second.” And then Hunter raced out to find the midwife.

  Hunter didn’t know what to do. Goddamn it. Where is everyone when you need them? The nurses weren’t at their station, and the midwife was nowhere in sight. Had they all been eaten by aliens?

  Racing past the nurse station again, he heard laughter coming from the room behind. Drawing closer, he saw a small group of nurses gathered around a table, their hands occupied with teacups and their mouths filled with biscuits. Two in the group caught his attention: a plump looking woman that he recognized as the midwife and a tall beanpole-like woman who was the nurse in charge of looking after his partner. But what in God’s name were they doing having tea and biscuits while his partner was in pain just down the hall?

  “My partner needs help. She’s in pain,” he announced uninvited, barging in on their tea break.

  “Oh, you mean the girl in room 3A?” the beanpole nurse asked.

  “Yes, please help her,” he pleaded.

  “Oh, don’t worry.” The plump midwife tossed a wave in his direction. “It’s only early labor pain. Nothing to be concerned with.”

  “Nothing to be concerned with?” Hunter’s perfectly structured face broke. Within a nanosecond flat, his temper flared and his blood boiled. He tossed her an angry glare to show her he was displeased with her statement. “My partner is about to give birth, and you say there’s nothing to be concerned with?”

  “Ooooh, looks like someone is stressed,” the beanpole nurse muttered.

  “Stressed?” Hunter fired his death gaze at her instead. “Of course I’m stressed. If one of you ladies bloody would do your job, then I wouldn’t be in this state.”

  “Calm down, honey,” the midwife replied leisurely, putting her teacup down like she had all the time in the world. “Your partner is only having her early contractions. It’ll be a few hours yet before the baby is out.”

  “A few hours?” Hunter gazed heavenward in disbelief. He wanted to tear out his hair right there and then due to his frustration. But even better, he felt like murdering the whole pack inside the tearoom, including the plump midwife and the beanpole nurse.

  “You look all stressed out, honey. Why don’t you have some chamomile tea? It’ll help to calm you. I’ll tell one of the nurses to make one for you.”

  What was she doing offering him a goddamn tea while his partner was suffering? What the hell? He felt like throwing that cup of tea right in her face. But if he did that, then who would deliver his baby when Conrad came?

  Damn shit, why was he arguing with this pack of ladies anyway, when he should be back in the delivery room with Clarice? With this thought in mind, he ran back to the delivery room where he could hear Clarice moaning and groaning in pain.

  What can I do? Hunter asked himself. He felt hopeless in a situation like this. All he was good at was chasing girls and bedding them just so he could get a good night’s sleep. Here, the woman he fell in love with and wanted to spend the rest of his life with was in so much pain, and all he could do was stand back and watch. He wanted some of that pain. If he could be the one to become pregnant and give birth to their baby, he would do it right away and without any questions asked.

  Another scream from Clarice made him pace even faster. When he entered the delivery room, he ran to her side. Seeing the sweat forming on her forehead, he wiped it off for her. She must be hot, he thought. So he went to the bathroom and wet some cloths, then started wiping her forehead.

  “Hunter, Hunter, is that you?” Clarice was on the brink of unconsciousness. The pain was so unbearable that each word took so much effort. “I’m sore all over. My back hurts. My stomach hurts.”

  “It’s all right, baby. I went to the nurse already. They’ll be here soon. Not too long to go now. You want me to massage your feet, baby?” Hunter asked, caressing her cheek.

  “Hunter,” Clarice cried again, which just broke his heart even more. He wished he had met her before she turned thirty. Then she wouldn’t have to suffer so much when giving birth. The pain was tearing him apart, and without thinking, he dropped small kisses along her forehead, then cheeks and mouth.

  He held her hands so tight and whispered loving words over and over again. “I love you, Clarice. You can do this. I want us to live together. I love you.”

  “Mmm.” She agreed, closing her eyes, wanting the pain to go away so much, but just hearing Hunter say that made it all seem better.

  “I love you, baby. I love you,” Hunter repeated as he watched Clarice thrash her head on the pillow, the pain so unbearable.

  Suddenly, Clarice felt another contraction, her body tightening in another onslaught of pain. She growled and cried until her throat went dry.

  “Hunter, water, I need water,” she managed to say.

  “You’re thirsty, baby?” Hunter went to grab the glass of water on the bedside table and lifted Clarice’s head to help her sip the cool liquid. “Are you feeling better?”

  “It hurts, Hunter.” Clarice shook her head and sobbed into Hunter’s shoulder after she was done with the drink. “I’m in so much pain.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” Hunter gripped her hand again. Once he felt her hand pressure lessen, he released his other hand and used it to softly part her wet, clumped hair that was matted to her forehead. “I’m so sorry, baby. It’s not too long to go now. Conrad will be here soon.”

  “All right, honey, move aside.” The midwife appeared, laughing and ushering Hunter to the
side. “Time for me to do some real magic.”

  Then the bulbous midwife put on a pair of fresh gloves.

  “All right, honey? You doing all right over there?” the midwife asked, smiling at Clarice. “Just breathe in and out, honey. That’s all I want you to do for now. Breathe in and then out.”

  “Breathe, baby, breathe.” Hunter demonstrated to Clarice, breathing in and out slowly himself. “Slowly, baby, slowly. Breathe slowly.”

  “Arrggghhhhh.” Clarice shouted when another contraction took her. “Hu-Hunter. It hurts.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’m right here. I’ll look after you,” Hunter repeated, holding on to her hand again. “You’re going to be fine. Conrad too. Both of you. Now breathe, baby, breathe. We’ll do this together. I’ll hold your hand, and we’ll breathe together.”

  Hunter watched as Clarice continued to shake her head and clamp her lips together to suppress her pain, but through her nose, she tried her best to breathe per his instruction.

  “Good work, baby, good work. You’re doing great. Now let’s do it together.” Hunter cheered on his lover.

  He watched Clarice watch him. As they both stared into each other’s eyes, he took the time to concentrate on his own breathing pattern, and then squeezing his lover’s hand a bit more, he let go of his breath, exhaling slowly. He saw Clarice mimicking his action. He smiled and kissed her on her forehead.

  “Good job, baby. Well done. Now let’s do that again. Breathe.”

  They both locked gazes and took another breath in through their nose, then once fully in, they exhaled simultaneously.

  “Well done, baby. Excellent job.” Hunter praised his lover and kissed her cheek this time. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He started telling her about her beautiful traits so she wouldn’t think about the pain. “Even when you’re here right now, I love looking at you. Especially your eyes. I can look into them all day long. You’re so amazing, baby. Everything about you is so beautiful. You have a kind heart and soul. I’m so glad you’re mine. And I want to tell you this. This heart here, it belongs to you. I’m all yours, baby. I’m all yours. This heart and soul belong to you now.”

  “Hunter…” Clarice sobbed again, hearing his kind words. If only she wasn’t in pain, she would lean up and kiss him then. But she had no strength at all. Still, she summoned all her courage to speak that one sentence she’d been meaning to tell him for so long now. “Hunter…”

  “Yes, baby, don’t talk right now. Just keep breathing. You’re doing great. Keep breathing.”

  Clarice only shook her head. No matter how much pain she must endure with childbirth, she needed to get this off her chest. “Hunter… I… ummmm… I… love… you…”

  Hunter’s eyes shot up, tears already pooling there. His lover, Clarice, she… she confessed to him. She loved him.

  “Baby…” He kissed her, attacking her lips, cheeks, and forehead with his lips, kissing her again and again until not one single spot was left untouched. “I love you too, baby. I love you so much. You make me so happy, baby, so very happy.”

  By this stage, his tears were overflowing like Victoria Falls, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass as to who might see him. Right now, he was standing on cloud nine. Clarice had finally confessed to him that she loved him.

  Clarice smiled weakly at Hunter’s reaction. She applied slight pressure onto his hand to show him she understood and was also very happy to be with him.

  Hunter squeezed Clarice’s hand too, then continued talking of how much he loved her, while the midwife just shook her head and muttered something along the line of, “Is this some kind of confession room?” under her breath.

  “Where do you want to go on holiday?” Hunter asked his lover to keep her from thinking about the pain. “Do you want to go to Cambodia? We’ll go to Cambodia. We’ll take Conrad to Cambodia to learn about your heritage. We’ll take him to Angkor Watt. He can play in the rice fields with the other children. We’ll eat mangos and drink coconut juice from the fruit. Would you like that, baby?” Hunter gripped his lover’s hands so tight to confirm and reassure her he was right by her side always, and he would never, ever leave her side again. Even if he wasn’t the one to give birth to their baby and endure this pain, he wanted Clarice to know through pain and happiness, he would continue to hold her hands, and they would pass through this phase together, like they’d always done in the past, through every single obstacle that flew their way.

  “Okay there, honey. You’re probably feeling some pressure. Now I want you to take a deep breath and push for me,” the midwife instructed her.

  “Arrgghhhh.” Clarice pushed and screamed and growled while Hunter continued to wipe her sweaty forehead and grip her hand tight.

  “Okay, honey. One more time,” the midwife said.

  This went on and on. The midwife would instruct Clarice to push while Hunter continued to kiss and embrace her, telling her over and over how much he loved and cherished her.

  “Again, honey, push again,” the midwife said.

  “Hunter… urrggghhhhh…” Clarice screamed.

  “All right, honey, I can see the head. Here he comes. The rascal is coming. I can see him. Honey, when you’re ready, why don’t you give me another push?” the midwife instructed again.

  “Baby, did you hear that?” Hunter whispered into his lover’s ears. “Our baby is coming. He’s coming, baby.”

  Hunter couldn’t suppress the emotion welling up inside him at that point. Tears were now streaming down his face, tears of joy and tears of happiness.

  Outside the delivery room, another commotion was taking place. Max, Whitney, Elise, Montha, and Michael were all standing around, wanting to get the first glimpse of Clarice and Hunter’s baby boy, but when they saw Anton, Clinton, and Fern, both parties stood at a complete standstill.

  Clinton knew immediately what to do.

  “Michael and Montha, right?” Clinton came to stand in front of Clarice’s parents. “I should introduce myself. My name is Clinton. I’m Hunter’s father. I’m sorry for how my son behaved towards Clarice before and all the misunderstandings he caused. But please give him another chance. He really loves your daughter.”

  Montha just stared at him. Clinton didn’t know what to do. He was never this lost before. He was a strong multibillionaire who wasn’t afraid of the world, but somehow standing in front of Clarice’s parents had him tongue-tied.

  “I don’t know what to say. All I can say is I’m really sorry for how my son has behaved. I promise to help him look after your daughter if you could just give him a chance. He’s a really good boy once you get to know him,” Clinton explained. “I’m asking you this as the father of a child asking another parent of a child. Hunter grew up not having a mother. He’s a rascal because of me. I didn’t look after him well enough.”

  “Uncle, that’s enough.” Anton interrupted, not liking that his uncle took all the blame. “I too am at fault. I didn’t look after him. I didn’t give him the comfort a cousin should have. I too apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Mason.”

  Then Fern came over, bowing to Clarice’s parents.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Mason. I apologize for not correcting Hunter. I stayed with Hunter for many years as a friend, yet I did not help him along the right road, so please…”

  “I, myself, my nephew, and Fern,” Clinton said, completing Fern’s sentence, “we all apologize to you both sincerely and only wish you give our Hunter another chance to love and care for Clarice.” And then all three bowed their heads forward in a kowtow action of apologies.

  “Mr. Silverton,” both Michael and Montha said, surprised when the multibillionaire magnate bowed his head to them both.

  “Please,” Montha said. “All I want is for Clarice to be happy. I’m willing to give your son another chance. I’m willing for him to stay with Clarice. All I want as a mother is to see my daughter happy. And I hope by giving Clarice to you, I trust you will look after her like your own flesh and blood.” />
  Clinton lifted his head, a spark of hope in his eyes, hope for Hunter to be reunited with Clarice again.

  “That,” Clinton said to both Michael and Montha with a big grin on his face, “will happen without a doubt.”

  Suddenly, they heard a baby’s wail, alerting all the party to rush to the delivery door, each pushing each other out of the way to get a sneak peek of Clarice and Hunter’s newborn baby, little Conrad.

  Chapter 22

  “Who’s my guccigoo? Tell me who’s my little guccigoo?” Whitney dangled a plush star toy in front of little Conrad’s face as he lay in the little cot, blinking.

  “All right, Whitney. My turn now,” Max said, pushing in.

  Max stared into his beloved baby nephew’s blue eyes, a trait inherited from Hunter’s side, and the blazing black hair, which was from Clarice’s side.

  “Conrad, my little nephew,” Max called out to the little baby boy lying in the cot, blinking at him now. “You’re my product. I was the one that made you. Not your mummy or daddy. I was the one that orchestrated everything. And I’m proud of what I’ve done.”

  “Proud? Didn’t you say you made a mistake just a few months ago? Punching Conrad’s father too,” Whitney butted in. Then she looked at little Conrad. “Conrad, my godson, don’t believe in that rascal.”

  “Get off it, Whitney.” Max pushed Whitney to the side again and looked back into the cot. “As I was saying, my little son. I am proud of you. So from now on, I’m your goddaddy. Okay?” Max told little Conrad. “Say it, goddaddy. God-daddy.”

  “Max, he’s only three weeks old.” Whitney butted back in. “Why do you want him to say that?” Whitney glared at Max. “Don’t you think his first words should be Godmother Whitney?”