Page 206 of Beautifully Reckless
“Oh my God,” Icry, trying, and failing, to sit up. “My baby.”
“It’s a little girl.” Clive smiles, but even through my exhaustion, I don’t miss the flicker of worry in his eyes.
Something is wrong.
“A girl?” I whisper, blinking past the haze closing in around me.
I’m so tired.
“It’s a little girl,” I repeat softly to Ringo, smiling up at him.
“Yeah, Angel. A girl.” He quickly schools his worry, nodding down at me.
That’s when I realise… my baby isn’t crying.
Do babies even cry when they are born this early?
Glancing down my body at Dylan, I watch as his arms and hands move quickly, busy doing something, the panic creasing his brow unhidable.
“Why isn’t she crying?” I try to sit up, but my arms aren’t strong enough. My whole body feels heavy. “Is that normal? Is it because she came too early?”
My frantic gaze darts between all of them. Even to JD and Murf standing a few metres back behind Ringo.
No one answers me.
“Dylan?!” I cry, panic restricting my airways.
“Fucking answer her!” Ringo snarls, his voice deadly, and Dylan’s worried gaze snaps to mine.
Shit.
His eyes don’t hold reassurance.
They hold sympathy.
“She’s only just breathing,” Dylan says softly. “We need to keep her warm.”
“Give her to me,” I slur, barely able to lift my hands up to reach for her.
I never knew giving birth would make me this tired. But then again, I didn’t get much time to educate myself on what to expect, other than some online research. But nothing could have prepared me for what just happened. Maybe feeling like this is normal.
“Ringo,” I whisper, dropping my hands to the leafy ground at my sides. “Tear open the front of my dress.”
He nods, no hesitation, ripping the shitty white taffeta apart before the cool air hits my chest.
I don’t even care that my boobs are out. I’ve just flashed the whole forest my hooha, so what’s a pair of tits at this point?
The second Ringo parts the fabric, Dylan gently lays my little baby girl on my chest, and just like that, all the world, every single thing in it, falls away.
It’s just me and her. Here. Now.
She’s so small, and a bit mucky, but I don’t care, because I have my little girl in my arms, pressed to my chest, and she makes a small little noise.
“Oh Bobbi,” I whimper, tears flooding my eyes so fast I can’t blink them away to get a good look at this tiny little miracle resting on my skin.
Right over my heart.
“Bobby?” Ringo’s voice cuts through my little bubble, and the world comes rushing back in.
