Sincerely, The Puck Bunny (Totally Pucked #2)(36)
There’s a suspicious looking black fungus growing out of the air vent on the ceiling, the wallpaper is peeling and faded from years of wear and tear, and the door creaks so loudly on the hinges, there’s no way it didn’t wake Olive up. She doesn’t even have a bassinet or a crib.
Reading my thoughts, she says, “She’s going to sleep with me in a co-sleeping bassinet. I have it put up in the closet.” She nods toward the door next to a pile of diaper boxes. “There’s not really enough room for a crib, so this will do for now.”
She’s right when she said it isn’t much, but it’s obvious that she keeps things spotless and organized. It still doesn’t make me feel any better about her or my daughter sleeping here, especially with that half-ass lock on the door. I look back at Maddison, watching as she fidgets nervously with her hands, and then her gaze drags up to meet mine.
“If you want to take a shower, or relax, I’m more than happy to stay and hold Olive. I’d actually really like to, if that’s okay with you.”
She nods as soon as the words leave my mouth. While our situation isn’t normal by any means, I think we’re both finding solace together for the simple fact that we’re not navigating uncharted waters alone.
“That would be amazing. I think I’m uh...” She looks down at her top where there are two wet spots forming on the outside of her sweatshirt. A blush travels up her neck to the tips of her cheeks as she stutters, “Oh G-god-d, this is so embarrassing.” She drops her head into her hands, and I immediately walk over, removing them from her face.
“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, Maddison. You gave me the greatest gift I could’ve ever fucking imagined. Your body did remarkable things.” Without thinking, I reach up and brush a piece of hair that’s fallen free from the messy bun at her nape. “Go shower and relax, she and I will be just fine. If you need anything, let me know.”
I toss a grin over my shoulder and walk back to the small living room and begin unbuckling Olive from her seat. She stretches her little arms and legs out before curling back into the tiniest of balls in my arm. Using one hand, I lay her blanket out onto the couch, and try like hell to remember how the nurse taught us to swaddle or whatever the hell it’s called.
She seems to like the blanket tightly around her, so I gently place her on the blanket and wrap her up in it exactly the way the nurse instructed. It’s loose in a few places, but fuck it, until yesterday, I didn’t even know what the hell a swaddle was. I’ll get better in time. I sink into the couch with her swaddled in my arms and take in the living room and tiny kitchen.
Once Maddison and I talk about what will happen with the three of us, the first thing I want to do is get them out of here.
Thirteen
The scalding hot water from the showerhead pelts down on my skin, and it feels sinful, so much that my entire body feels relaxed and pliant. I needed this shower and a second to breathe more than I realized, even though I’m anxious to be away from Olive for even a second.
After the initial visit from Grams, Ty and Kyle, I briefly explained what was happening and asked for space. As baffled as they were that I was allowing Briggs to be here, to be around Olive, they still respected my wishes. I haven’t explained exactly what happened yet because the past two days have been a whirlwind. I’m not even sure, myself, if I fully understand what’s happening, but one thing I do know is that Briggs didn’t know about Olive.
He was played, just as much as I was, only this was a betrayal much, much worse. Not only was he in the dark about what was happening, but he missed seeing Olive grow inside of me, and the things about my pregnancy that I can’t give back to him.
Am I angry? Yes. I’m fucking livid. I hate that we’ve both been robbed of time we can’t ever get back, and that my entire pregnancy, since the moment I read his letter, my anger has been misplaced. I truly had no idea, and now, we’re both stuck in limbo about what’s going to happen next.
I asked myself if I would be able to live with myself if I denied him of something else? Of Olive’s birth? Of seeing her brought into the world. Would everything we have been through in the short time we’ve known each other, whether it was good or bad, prevent him from being a father?
And the only answer I could find was no. I wasn’t going to rob him of anything else, and if in the end, he decided he didn’t want to be a part of Olive’s life then it was a decision he could make, face to face, after seeing his daughter.
Then, I saw the look on his face the moment he laid eyes on our baby, wailing at the top of her lungs, angry and red, and all I could see were the tears that filled his eyes. The emotion that was written on his features. Once he held her for the first time, I knew right then, that Briggs Wilson was going to be the best dad in the world, and I was going to let him.
I moan as my fingers sink into my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp, allowing myself the briefest of moments to breathe. In my head, I replay my conversation with Briggs, where he said that my body did remarkable things.
It did, and now if anything, I feel like a shell of who I used to be. Once the soap runs free, I glance down at my stomach that’s still protruding slightly from birth, and the stretch marks that mar it. Angry, jagged lines that snake up my sides, abdomen and upper thighs. A small, selfish part of me is glad that Briggs never saw me pregnant, and that we aren’t together in that way, because even though my body carried and protected my baby, I’m still self-conscious of what’s been left behind.