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.
Not that I’m thinking of being with Briggs in any type of way, of course not. I groan out loud and look to the ceiling then squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
No, the last thing I should ever do is get involved with my baby daddy. That’s the worst idea that there is, and when I suggest to him that co-parenting is the best route for us, I have no intention of ever crossing that line.
No matter how handsome he is, or how amazing his biceps look when they flex around the tight sleeve of his t-shirt. Or the way that the dimple in his cheek pops when he smi-
“Maddison?”
Briggs' voice on the other side of the door causes me to jump.
“Yes?”
“Just wanted to check on you and make sure you’re okay. I think our girl is getting hungry, she’s kind of sucking on her fist and I don’t uh… have the right parts to feed her.”
I laugh quietly. Of course you don’t, you silly man.
“Be out in just a sec,” I say.
Not letting my mind wander back to Briggs, I quickly run conditioner through my hair and wash my body, then slowly step out of the shower. I’m not in pain as much as I was at the hospital, but my body most definitely needs time to bounce back to what it was before.
I quickly dress in an old t-shirt and sleep shorts, and drag a brush through my hair, getting out any tangles, then brush my teeth and open the door. Briggs must not hear the door open because he continues to talk to Olive in a hushed whisper.
“I hope your mama lets me stay around, little girl. I want to, so badly. Yeah, I know, I have no clue what the hell I’m doing, Wait, I shouldn’t say hell, sorry. But… I want to try. I’ll probably mess up, a lot. Definitely have no clue how to change a diaper or make a bottle or anything, but I love you. That matters right? I love you so much already.”
My heart picks up speed as tears well in my eyes. The last thing I expected was the six-foot-three professional hockey player, baby daddy to be so… soft, and kind, and gentle. Like Olive will break in his hands anytime he picks her up. Olive’s tiny hand is wrapped around Briggs’ finger as he talks to her, and the entire thing has hot tears wetting my cheeks and me sniffling.
Sensing my presence, he looks up, alarm written on his face.