Love After Marriage (Forever After #2)

by Mia Kayla

  The doctor threw his gloves in the trash and approached the bed. “Everything looks fine with the baby. You may have been a little dehydrated, which can induce cramping.” He pulled out a little pad from his pocket and jotted down notes. “I need you to drink lots of liquids and rest up. If you feel any more pain, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  After tearing the top sheet from the pad and putting it on the side table next to Beth, he placed his hand on my shoulder. "And you. Congrats, Daddy.”

  I blinked a couple of times, gaining back some of my composure. "Thanks."

  When he shut down the computer, he handed me a couple of pictures and my eyes stared at the tiny spark that would eventually light up our world.

  The doctor walked out and minutes passed since, my eyes never leaving the black and white picture.

  "Kent?"

  Her sweet voice broke me from my trance.

  I shook my head back to the present and sagged against the edge of the hospital bed. "I'm sorry. I just can't comprehend this."

  "What? The fact that you're going to be a dad?"

  My lips curled up into a smile. "Yeah, that. But mostly..." I pressed one hand lightly on her stomach. "I can't believe something so tiny is growing inside of you."

  "I know, right?" She placed her hand on top of mine just above where our baby lay. "It's our own little miracle. Amazing."

  "Amazing..." I agreed.

  She tugged at my shirt and wrapped both hands around my neck. "And you're going to be one great father."

  I gulped. "You think?"

  "Oh, I know." She inched forward. "And I can't wait to see it happen."

  I smiled, getting nose to nose with her. "I've never wanted to succeed more at anything." And for the first time, I couldn't wait for this baby to come. "Thanks for having so much faith in me."

  "Always and forever."

  Closing the gap between us, I met her lips and whispered, "Always and forever."

  Chapter 11

  Kent:

  I patted my stomach, fully satisfied from our dinner as I sat and watched a cooking channel. I'd been working out double-time since the pregnancy because I had to. Ever since she passed the first trimester, she had twice the appetite. Too bad I loved to join her in the eating fest.

  The doorbell buzzed in the background, forcing me from my spot on the couch.

  "That's Caroline. Babe, can you grab that?" Beth called from our bedroom.

  I rushed to the door when the buzz continued without interruption. Caroline staggered in, baby carrier in hand. She shoved the carrier in my direction and bucked forward, dropping to her knees.

  I placed the baby on the floor, but in the next second, I dropped down to the ground. "What's the matter?" My voice spiked with anxiety, my eyes scanning her body. Was she hurt? Bleeding? "Caroline?"

  When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled with tears. "Shit! Should I call nine-one-one?"

  "What's going on?" Beth charged toward us and dropped to the floor.

  "My stomach. I'm in pain," she cried through a waterfall of tears.

  Beth cradled Caroline against her. "Kent... please." She gestured to the phone on the counter. "Call for an ambulance."

  I rushed toward the counter, grabbed the phone, and dialed for help. With one hand, I gripped the top of my head as the operator answered.

  "Nine-one-one emergency."

  "We need an ambulance at the Trump Tower. Penthouse condo. Our friend." My eyes skittered to my wife holding Caroline, whose body was racked with tremors. "She's in pain." I searched my wife's face.

  "I think a cyst erupted," Beth called out, running her hands down Caroline's arms to soothe her pain.

  Caroline whispered a few words that I couldn't hear. It seemed as though she was using all her energy to speak and was unable to form full sentences.

  I repeated what Beth had told me, and after I hung up, I approached them. "What does she need? Something to drink? Water?"

  "I don't know." Beth had sympathetic tears in her eyes, which punched me in the gut even more. "She said, she has a surgery scheduled next week to take out an ovarian cyst that they found. She thinks it might’ve burst or something."

  When Caroline began to wail, I bent down, lifted her, and gently guided her to the couch. More buzzing filled my ears, but it was the kind of noise I welcomed as I sprinted toward the door and pulled it open, welcoming reinforcements.

  Two EMTs entered, and I pointed to the couch. They wheeled in a stretcher behind them, then chaos erupted around me. Caroline's screams sounded as though she was in a horror movie, which caused my stomach to flip.

  Beth pointed to the carrier that I had completely forgotten about. "Chase. Kent, check on Chase." Caroline had Beth's hand in a death grip, squeezing the life out of it.

  When I approached the carrier, I was pleased to find the baby sleeping soundly through all the noise.

  "Kent!" I jumped at Beth's frantic voice. "Call Jeff. Tell him to meet me at the hospital."

  I ran to the counter and picked up the phone, realizing I didn't have Jeff's number. "Where's your phone?"

  Beth retrieved her cell from her back pocket and chucked it at me as the EMTs lifted the stretcher with Caroline in it.

  I scrolled through, looking for Jeff's name, then placed the phone against my ear. When the call went straight to voicemail, I squeezed my eyes shut. "Hey, man. It's Kent. Caroline's hurt." My breathing slowed, and I clutched the front of my shirt, finding it difficult to breathe because I could empathize and knew exactly how he'd feel when he got this call. "She's fine, but they're taking her to the hospital. Please meet them at Eastern Medical." When I opened my eyes, they were halfway to the door, Caroline's hand tight on Beth's.

  "Yes, Eastern Medical," Beth confirmed. "Kent, you need to watch Chase."

  The phone dropped from my hands as my eyes widened. "What?"

  Beth threw me a reassuring smile for my benefit. "I'm just going to drop her off and come right back. I’ll hail a cab back home."

  "No, I'll just go with her. You stay here.” I rubbed the back of my neck as panic shook me.

  "Beth!" Caroline wailed beside her.

  If I started to cry, would she stay with me instead? "Beth." I begged her with my eyes.

  "Everything will be fine. I'll be back within the hour." It seemed as though she was speaking on fast forward. "Please. You can do this. He's asleep. He'll probably be asleep when I get back. Caroline’s said that he's eaten already and his next feed is in three hours."

  Caroline’s wails could not drown out the fear rising in my whole body.

  The stretcher was at the entryway.

  "Wait!" I called out.

  Beth bit her lip and gave me an encouraging smile. "You'll be fine. Diapers and everything you need is in the bag. Call me if you need anything."

  And then the door closed behind them and shut me in. With the baby. All alone.

  "Okay," I said to no one in general. Maybe I was talking to the baby, but that didn't even make any sense since he was sound asleep. I walked over to the carrier, hands on my hips, and took deep breaths through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

  "Okay," I repeated. Maybe if I said it enough times, I'd believe I'd be just that—okay.

  I paced back and forth, glancing at the tiny tot in the carrier and then down at my watch. Beth said she'd be back in an hour. She had left two minutes ago. I bet this boy will still be sleeping by then. She did mention he’d been fed.

  But a sudden, tiny ‘coo’ had me sweating like I'd lifted five hundred pounds. My eyes stared back at two crystal blue ones.

  "Fuuuuck!" I said, gripping my hair with both hands. "Shit...” Is there an alternative to shit? Shoot? I shook my head and corrected myself, “I mean, fudge."

  The little boy blinked in my direction and scanned the area. For a brief moment, he seemed to be entertained by the dangling frog hanging on his carrier. When he smiled, a little tension in my shoulders eased. When I came closer, his eyes met
mine, and I froze as though I'd been stunned with a gun.

  With a wave of my hand, I introduced myself. "H-Hi." I cleared my throat. Damn it. Why was I so nervous? I straightened my back and stood taller. I'm the future CEO of Plack Industries. There was no need to be afraid of the infant.

  Shit, I was ten times his size.

  I squared my shoulders and stuck out my hand. "Kent Plack." Then I retrieved my hand when I realized how stupid that was and bent down instead. In my softest voice, I cleared my throat and reacquainted myself. "Hi, buddy. Remember me?" With my two fingers, I lifted his hand, noting the miniature size compared to mine. My breathing slowed as I took him in. My other hand went to the top of his head, wanting to feel the silkiness of his hair. "Your mommy is going to be just fine." I smiled and let out a slow, relaxing breath.

  When he smiled back, I sagged with relief. "I think I can do this," I said, to no one in particular. Again.

  Little man started to giggle, and I stood and lifted my hands like I was a rock star quarterback that had just made a touchdown. "Yes!"

  When he giggled more, I repeated the motion. "Yep. I can totally do this." I remembered the movie Beth and I had watched not too long ago about three men finding a newborn baby on their doorstep. Me, being the smart guy that I was, got into the little man's face and started playing Peek-a-boo. Not sure where my knowhow was coming from. Maybe there was some instinct in there.

  I peeked through my fingers, and he looked thoroughly interested. "Peek...." I lifted one hand and covered my face again. "Peek-a..." And then, "Boo!"

  My smile spanned my whole face, but he had no reaction. None. So I did what I did best—I jumped up and raised both hands to the ceiling as though I'd made a touchdown. When he erupted in more giggles, I did it again and again. This wasn’t so bad. I could do this. I could jump for the next hour until Beth came back. I glanced down at my watch. It had been ten minutes since the last time I peered down.

  And Aha! Into the football touchdown pose again.

  His happy demeanor melted my defenses away. I felt rewarded by those smiles.

  I had to admit...little man was kind of cute. He looked like Jeff from the eyes up, but that smile—and I'm sure the way he pouted—was all Caroline.

  The touchdown pose worked for a little while, but after about five minutes, it was losing its effect. Chase's laughter lessened and when all his giggles ceased, I stopped, placed my hands on my hips and tried to catch my breath. I felt like I’d just done a thousand jumping jacks.

  "Okay." I had to think. What else could I do to entertain this child?

  He pursed his lips, staring at me with wonder.

  My weight shifted, and I placed my hands behind my head, then I pointed a finger in his direction. "One second, buddy."

  Wait a minute. Children loved to be read to, so I walked to the counter and picked up a stack of magazines.

  "Alright. Let's see what we have here." I picked up the first off the stack, Time magazine. "This is the president of the United States." Little man yawned and rubbed his eyes. Rightfully so, I was boring him to death.

  "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" I pulled out the next magazine under the stack and winked at Chase. "This is more like it." The Victoria Secret model was smiling seductively, her tiny bikini squeezing the life out of her breasts, making them larger than life.

  I motioned between the two of us. "See, me and you? We're not that different. I’m a boob man, too. It may feed your body, but for me?" I smirked. "It feeds my soul."

  Chase pursed his lips together into an almost smile, and I had the sudden urge to take it up a notch. I wanted to hear his giggles again because I wanted to know that the baby was happy. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to recall more of that movie. I guess I should’ve paid more attention, but at the time I didn't think I'd be in this situation.

  Dropping the magazines, I placed my fingers between my lips and made annoying sounds. This seemed to work in the movie, but Chase wasn't entertained. He squished his face into a painful smile as though his face was stretching, cheeks back. When his hands clenched at his sides and his face turned beet red, I reeled back.

  Did he stop breathing? What was going on?

  And then I heard it. A ripple through the air to rival a grown man's flatulence. Loud and clear.

  "Shit. Like literally!" I reeled back as horror knotted my stomach. I glanced at my watch, wondering how long a kid could sit in his own shit. It had only been fifteen minutes since Beth and Caroline had left.

  I pinched my nose as the stank of the century filtered through the air. It was like the shit bomb of all time had been dropped in my condo.

  "Tiny but deadly,” I muttered. “That's what they should call you." I stood and placed my hands on my hips, debating whether I should call Beth.

  I reached for my phone in my back pocket when Chase began to wail, full out crying with tears. His cries tore through me and were loud enough to combat his mother's cries of pain.

  I dropped on all fours and patted his leg. "It's okay, buddy." I coughed from the stank and stared at the ceiling as my eyes began to water. Then I decided I couldn't let him sit in his own shit for an hour.

  "We'll take care of this mess." I retrieved my phone and dialed my wife. Maybe she was on her way back, which I highly doubted. Either way, she could give me a step by step on what to do.

  When the call went straight to voicemail, my stomach churned. I wasn't usually nervous, but this—this had me freaking out like I'd lost the whole company making a bad deal.

  I dialed my mother next, but when her call also went to voicemail, I went into freak out mode. I pinched the bridge of my nose and breathed deeply through Chase's crying. I needed to focus and think.

  When I opened my eyes, I reached for the carrier and brought the baby into our room. After placing him at the foot of my bed, I grabbed the remote and searched for the movie. Apparently, I had hit quite a low point, using Hollywood for baby tips. But desperation had no boundaries.

  I picked up the carrier with one hand and rocked it back and forth while my other hand flipped through the DVR. Nothing was calming the baby down. When I found the movie, I pressed play and forwarded it to the part where the three men were trying to figure out how to change the baby's diaper.

  I paused the show.

  First things first, I needed diapers.

  I ran to the living room. I reached for the diaper bag, then I shuffled back to our bedroom where I dropped on all fours and threw everything out of the bag.

  Diapers. I needed diapers.

  "Aha!" I waved a diaper at Chase. "I found it." Tossing it on the bed, I grabbed the next thing I needed, wipes, and tossed the container next to the diaper.

  "I've got this." My voice quivered with uncertainty, but I gave Chase a thumbs up. Though I doubted my ability to get through this, I didn't want him to worry.

  "Alright." Diaper and wipes. Check.

  I pressed play on the remote and watched the scene unfold on the screen.

  "What else do I need?" I shook my head. "Baby...yes, that would be good."

  I undid his seat belt. It took me a little bit to get him untied, but when I finally did, I had no clue what to do next.

  "Alright.” I pressed my lips together and gave him a serious stare. “Just so you know, I've never done this before. But it's going to be okay. I promise." My promises did nothing to stop his wailing. At this point, he was crying so hard my ears were beginning to ring. Poor fellow. I hated seeing him all worked up. I needed to speed up the process.

  My hands went under his armpits, and I held my breath as I gently lifted him. His head wiggled back and forth, so I straighten my hold and held him closer to his neck. Laying him down slowly on the bed, I continued to take deep breaths.

  "Alright. Off with the goods." I unsnapped his pants and then his under shirt. Damn, babies came with a lot of snaps. "Hasn’t anyone heard of Velcro?" I mumbled.

  When I undid his diaper, I reeled back at the stank. "Your poop
is lethal, little man."

  "Wipes." I pulled out wipes three at a time and cleaned up his butt. Where the hell was the trash can? "Shit. I forgot the most important thing." Without taking my eyes off Chase, I backed up toward the wall, tossed the wipes in, and brought the trash closer to the bed.

  By the time I was done cleaning his butt, his cries had softened into hiccups and he started sucking on his tiny fist. I picked up the clean diaper and pinched the edges between my fingertips. The thing looked like a damn Chinese puzzle. "Yup. There's no way I can figure it out. Is there a tag to tell me which way is the back?" I glanced at the TV and it looked like the three men were having the same issues. Sighing in frustration, I took out my phone and googled it, which is what I should’ve just done in the first place.

  My insides soared when I found a Youtube tutorial. "Yes!" Thankfully, Chase was falling asleep while he sucked his fist.

  Step by step, I figured it out, pausing between takes. When I finally had it securely tightened around his waist, I pounded my chest and gave a silent roar.

  By the time I put him all back together, snaps and all, I smiled down at my accomplishment. Then I got down on my knees, placed my head by Chase's, and snapped a selfie as proof.

  When I lifted him, his eyes fluttered open and he started to cry. "It's okay, buddy." I glanced at the screen and watched one of the guys bouncing the little kid in their arms, so I mimicked their motions. I held him close, against my chest.

  Bounce, bounce, bounce.

  Rock, rock, rock.

  Step together. Step apart. Step together. Step apart.

  But nothing seemed to work. His cries were getting louder.

  "Alright. Do you want me to sing? I can't sing, but I can hum." I swayed him in my arms and hummed the last thing I had heard in the car. It was an ass bumping song, but I wasn't repeating any words, only humming the melody, so I deemed myself safe.

  Finally, his cries died down as I hummed the song I would sing into Beth's ear, when I was trying to seduce her.

  Soon enough, he was asleep and the tension in my shoulders oozed out of me like water from a sink. I sat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to move, afraid he'd wake up again.