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  “Oh baby, that’s my fault. We’ve not done very well at this being adults thing have we?” I laughed through tears of joy as he pulled away to look at me.

  “No, I guess we haven’t. But we can do this Bethany, I know we can.” He looked at me with bright positivity but then Petra cooed from where she napped. “Oh my.”

  I’ve never seen a man so filled with awe, not even my dad the first time he picked up Peter. Drake looked back at me and I smiled at him, shaking my hands and motioning for him to pick her up.

  “She probably won’t wake up, pick up your daughter Drake. She’s been waiting on you.”

  He gently picked her up, using the technique he’d learned in a class, and pulled his baby girl to his chest. My heart filled with love, with awe, and with joy. The Super Bowl might have been the fulfilment of Drake’s dreams but this, seeing this long tall drink of man with the handsome face and killer body holding the baby we’d created together was mine. My baby girl had a father.

  “She’s so tiny.” The awe had yet to leave Drake’s voice. “She looks just like Peter!”

  “Oh she has your stubborn chin and I have a feeling her eyes are going to be grey but otherwise, yeah, I guess she does look like Peter. That’s a good thing, he’s a handsome boy.”

  “She’s absolutely beautiful.” Drake cradled Petra close to his chest and she snuffled for a moment before settling back down.

  He stood, coming to the other side of the bed, our bed, and rested against the pillows, kicking off his shoes, as I rolled over to gaze at them. Drake closed his eyes as Petra huddled on his chest, a tiny little bump compared to the giant of a man who cradled her.

  “Oh yeah, this is heaven. I had no idea.” Drake eased a little further down into the bed and closed his eyes. “I’ll talk to you after a nap.”

  I laughed but within two minutes Drake was quietly snoring, the baby breathing gently along with him. I need my camera! I eased off the bed, running into my office to grab the camera. Making sure all the beeps were off I went back into the room to add to the huge collection of pictures I’d already amassed. I’d need a new hard drive soon if I kept taking pictures at this rate.

  Quietly snapping away, I adored this moment and captured it for later. I had a moment where I feared that 20 years from now these would be the only pictures my daughter would have of her father. I’d heard a few of my adult friends talking about the fact that the only pictures they had were from the early stages of their life, their father had soon disappeared or just walked away from the family he’d created. I didn’t want that for my little angel.

  I pushed the worry down, though, something I seemed to do far too often, and sat in the rocking chair on the side of the bed, watching my two new loves sleep. Well, Drake wasn’t a new love but the love I felt for him now was new. He was the father of my child and I thought my ovaries were going to explode watching him sleep with our baby. He was my daughter’s father. I also knew the man now, not the boy he used to be. Oh the boyish smile was still there, the teasing manner that drew me out of my shell still surfaced, and the looks were the same but the kind, gentle, caring person he’d become was brand new.

  Over the passing weeks, I saw him bathe our daughter, change her diapers and her clothes, learn how to feed her bottles of my milk, and take part in the real-life process of being a dad. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for any of us and when we somehow ran out of diapers at 10 pm one night he didn’t complain, he just hopped in his truck and went to the store. He never said anything negative, rather he developed a fierce sense of protectiveness towards us all, and I stood in awe as I realized he didn’t feel obligated to us, he felt devotion!

  I couldn’t have asked for anything more from the man. Not a single thing. I melted every single day over something he did and I knew it wasn’t just my hormones going back to normal; he really was a completely different man. He wasn’t just devoted to our daughter or me, though, Peter was his favorite little boy and there was no doubt about it.

  Peter returned his adoration, calling for Drake far more often now when he was excited about something or afraid. I wasn’t upset about it; I was pleased that Peter had that security in his life. I hadn’t realized just how much my son was missing out on, not until Drake came along and filled that role for Peter. I smiled happily as I lay down to take a nap, relaxed that Peter was back in school, the baby was asleep in her crib, and Drake was out getting groceries. This was much better than my first time bringing a baby home. The loneliness, the exhaustion, and the depression I’d hidden from everyone was gone this time and I could breathe. Sliding gently into sleep, my happy brown eyes closed, I fell into a sleep filled with dreams of the future.

  Drake walked into the house, his arms loaded with bags from the store. He didn’t hear anything, only peaceful quiet and assumed Bethany and the baby were both asleep or doing something quiet. Walking up the stairs Drake checked on Bethany and saw that she was asleep on their bed. The baby was asleep as well and he went back downstairs to put the groceries he’d bought away.

  He’d learned already to check to see if anyone was asleep before he made any noise. He carefully emptied the reusable bags he’d learned to take with him and decided to start dinner. Peter would be home from school soon and he’d be hungry.

  One of the really good things about this domesticity thing was learning to cook. He’d found some great recipes online and videos to go with them and he was learning to prepare really great meals. His life had changed completely and he couldn’t be happier. He felt whole now, something he’d never felt before, and that was down to his family. He didn’t miss football, he didn’t miss being out with the guys, he had everything he needed here.

  Drake thought about Petra as he put away the items he’d bought, setting things that needed to go upstairs aside. He pulled out her baby soap and thought about her little tummy. He’d felt the strongest sense of pride the first time he’d washed her and saw a tiny faint brown birthmark just to the right of her belly button. Almost the shape of an angel, it was the same exact mark he’d had just below his but it had faded over time. His had been dark when he was young but as he grew, and tanned, the mark had blended in with his skin.

  This was his daughter, he had no doubt of that to begin with but now, yeah, that little bit of a mark tied her to him. She was his and that was the most profound feeling he’d ever known. He’d teared up a little then but soon sucked it up. Big men didn’t cry and he was about as big as they came.

  Going into the final bag he pulled out a small, black velvet box. He’d passed the shop on the way home and couldn’t pass it by, his decision made in that moment. He’d gone into the store, spent a few minutes looking over the inventory and found exactly what he’d been looking for. He’d even asked for a specific kind of box to take his purchase home in.

  An old fashioned kind of box for an old fashioned kind of ring. Drake’s eyes gleamed as he looked down at the antique-style ring nestled inside of the box. The princess cut diamond was four carats of sparkle, the halo of diamonds around the main diamond and down the sides of the platinum ring added to the sparkle. He’d wanted something bigger but he’d known Bethany wouldn’t wear it. She wasn’t a showy kind of person and she never wore large, gaudy jewelry, usually just small simple pieces and even this might be too much for her but she deserved it.

  He’d made a decision over the last few weeks, he was going to ask her to marry him, but this time, it wouldn’t be because she was pregnant, it would be because he loved her. His eyes turned inward as he thought over the last few months, remembering the long talks they’d had, the laughter, and the loving that had taken place. With a deep breath, Drake realized that this is what he’d always wanted.

  All those years of chasing women, chasing highs through alcohol or endorphins, all he’d really wanted was a family, something to make him feel whole at last. He had that now and he wanted to make it official. Snapping the box closed he slid it into the jeans that hugged his hips and t
ook out the ingredients for the dinner he was going to make. He wanted to wait until the perfect moment. Maybe this weekend.

  Drake felt a moment of complete happiness bubble in his chest as he caramelized onions and prepared chicken and mushrooms for the pasta dish he was creating. He knew Bethany was trying to avoid onions but he knew the dish wouldn’t taste right without them. He even liked that he was considering what Bethany would and would not eat. Yeah, this weekend might be the right time, after all. Or would a romantic night when it was just them be better? Drake considered the options while he cooked; he wasn’t in a rush so maybe it could wait just a little longer until Bethany was fully recovered and cleared by the doctor. Just a couple more weeks. Then he’d get to ask her the most important question of his life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drake had everything planned, the time was now right, Bethany was showing signs of being ready for the resumption of their physical relationship, and life was settling down with the new baby. Bethany had taken off the rest of the school year and they were spending a lot of time together now, decorating the house and filling their days.

  He’d enlisted the help of his sister for this Friday night. Peter and Petra were going to stay with their aunt for the evening, Bethany always kept extra milk on hand so that Drake could feed the baby, and before she left, Amelia had agreed to douse the bed in red and white rose petals. He just had to get through one more day.

  On pins and needles, and with the air turning warm, Drake had taken Peter outside so they could work off some energy playing. They’d thrown a football in the backyard, and now Peter was running through the grass, trying to keep away from Drake. He shimmied up a tree and Drake called out to him, telling him to get down from the tree. Peter just giggled, a daredevil in the making, as he climbed higher.

  Bethany had just come out of the back door to let them know dinner was ready when they both heard the sound that no parent wants to hear when their child is climbing a tree; the loud tearing crack of a tree limb giving way. Drake ran for the tree, hoping to catch the boy when he fell, but Peter dropped like a stone, hitting several branches on the way down, before falling with his arm behind him.

  The boy didn’t make a sound as he fell but Drake could see the pain and fear in his eyes. Drake ran to his side, bending down on the ground. Drake knew immediately the boy’s arm was broken, the bone was sticking out of the torn and already bruising skin and he had a deep laceration on his head.

  “No, stay down, son. Let’s have a look at you.” Drake looked Peter over, seeing how the child winced whenever he moved his arm. Drake sat back on his feet, holding his hand to Peter’s head wound as the rush of adrenaline let go and the crash of relief washed over him. Peter was hurt but he’d live.

  Drake had panicked as he’d watched the child falling, his heart ready to explode as Peter landed and almost bounced before he turned over on to his back, untrapping his broken arm. Drake heard Bethany screaming behind him and turned to tell her Peter needed an ambulance but she was already across the yard with her phone in her hand.

  Bethany was talking to the 911 operator as she bent to take Peter to her side. He pushed her away though and held his good arm up to Drake. Bethany would have been stung by this rejection but she saw the love and trust, the confidence Peter had in Drake and let the emotion flow away. This was a good sign, though the moment was terrible.

  Drake went to push Peter’s shirt down, the garment having slid up when Peter turned over but paused. There on his taut little boy stomach was something that made Drake’s heart stop once more. A lighter shade than Petra’s but darker than Drake’s, a small angel-shaped birthmark rested just to the right of Peter’s bellybutton. He felt his heart stop, could have sworn it stopped but he was still breathing as he looked up at Bethany. But she was busy talking into the phone, tears in her eyes as she examined Peter’s arm.

  Peter was his? Could it be?

  I felt my entire world falling to the ground and shattering as my son fell from the tree, hitting a couple of branches on the way down. When he pushed me away and wanted Drake I’d felt a bit miffed, my heart had all but exploded in my chest but he didn’t want me. It was a good thing, though, and as I talked to the 911 operator I looked his arm over. It was bad but manageable. My poor little boy would be in pain but he’d live.

  “Should we take him inside?” I asked Drake, not sure what we should do. I’d had first aid training but I didn’t like to leave my baby lying on the ground like that.

  “No, I think we should leave him here until the ambulance comes baby. Why don’t you go in to get a towel to put on his head? Head wounds often bleed a lot but we should still try to get it to stop.” His voice sounded strained, almost distant, but I knew he was probably still feeling panicked. He was new to this being a dad and having kids do things that scared you. I was used to having an adventurous little boy but I was still feeling the fear and panic, Drake must be a bag of nerves!

  Drake continued to hold his hand against Peter’s head and I ran into the house to get a cloth. I saw the lights of an ambulance in the front yard and went out to let the paramedics in. A tall woman with curly light brown hair and an athletic build walked in. Her eyes smiled at me with compassion as the man behind her helped to push in a stretcher.

  They asked me questions about Peter and we went straight out to the back yard. There they talked to Peter, put a cervical collar on him, covered and braced his arm, and then gently got him onto a backboard. From there they lowered him onto the stretcher, strapped him in, and they zipped off after telling me where they were taking my child.

  My head was spinning and I looked at Drake to steady me. He held his arms out to me and though I knew Peter was going to be alright I felt a sob bubble out of my chest.

  “Shh, baby, he’s fine. Let’s get Petra and get to the hospital. Come on now, be my brave girl. You’re always so brave.” He looked down at me and for some reason I thought there was much more to those words than he meant but he pulled away and tugged me into the house.

  Within 30 minutes we were sitting in Peter’s room, waiting to see the doctor. Hours later we were gawping at the doctor as he recommended surgery and told us Peter would be in the hospital for a couple of days at least. We thought the doctor would just put the bones back together, clean the wound, and stitch it up, but he was talking about infection in the bones and what strategy was best for children when pinning bones back together. He wanted to put screws in my baby!

  Normally I’m calm, I’m rational, and I can be as cool as the proverbial cucumber but I all but lost it when the doctor left. Peter was distracted by something on the television, resilient as any child, but Drake heard me sobbing at the window and came to embrace me.

  “I didn’t know it was that bad!” I turned in Drake’s arms and looked up into his eyes. “People talk about these things as though it’s nothing but this could get very bad for Peter. And he needs surgery? Surgery they’re going to do tonight? Oh Drake, I don’t know if I can handle this.”

  “You can and you will.” He said with complete confidence as he put my head on his shoulder and stroked my hair. “Peter needs you to be strong and you will be.”

  I cried for a moment but then Petra cried. Drake was right, I’d get through this, I thought as I headed for the baby. She needed feeding. I settled down to let her feed as Drake paced, looking at me with an anxious air. Poor man. Petra finally finished and snoozed against my bare chest, a light snore coming from between her tiny perfect lips.

  “I know you’re probably going to say no but why don’t you head home, Bethany? Petra doesn’t need to be here with all of these germs and there’s nothing more we can do. You’ve signed all of the forms you need to sign and you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go home and take care of you and the baby, let me take care of our boy.” He looked hopeful like he really wanted me to leave him to handle this.

  Maybe he sees this as a test of my faith in him? If I say no will he think I don’t trust him wit
h my son? I looked over at Peter, sleeping now, and knew that I should probably stay. I even started to tell Drake I couldn’t leave but I looked back into his eyes and saw pleading. He needed to do this.

  “Alright. But you call me every time something happens!” I pointed a finger at him with a stern look.

  “Then you won’t be resting dear. But I’ll send you a text and definitely, call when he’s out of surgery, alright?”

  “Okay. Well. Um, I guess I’ll get going then. Are you sure?” I hesitated; I couldn’t help it. That was my boy in that bed.

  “Of course I am, Bethany. I’ll go home for some rest when you come in the morning because I know you’ll be here first thing. Now scoot” He made a shooing motion and I giggled.

  “Let me get the baby ready, at least!” I laughed as I put Petra into her car seat and settled her in. The baby cooed up at me, happy from her feeding.

  I went to him for a hug and a kiss before I moved to Peter. He was still asleep, his arm in a temporary brace, the wound covered in gauze. He looked so innocent, so sweet.

  “See you later, little love. Be brave for Mommy!” I kissed his forehead once more, checked the laceration at the top of the right side of his head, and hummed in satisfaction. It wasn’t bleeding anymore and looked well enough for as fresh as it was.

  “I’ll see you in the morning then Drake. Get something to eat while he’s in surgery, you’ll need your strength, hospitals are not easy places to sleep. I’m sure you know that but I had to say it.” We laughed and his lips brushed mine once more. “I’ll miss you, take care of my boy.”

  Then I walked out of the room. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done but I did it. I don’t know how but I did. Drake needed this.

  Drake sighed a breath of relief as Bethany left. She trusted him to take care of her boy. Their boy. Drake studied the sleeping boy and knew it; he didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before. He’d assumed Bethany had found some other guy in college, believing the story she’d put out. He hadn’t even thought about it when the boy had his birthday in March, he’d just gone along happily buying the boy gifts the entire month. But why hadn’t she said anything?