“Andrea,” Terry snaps, and I’m glad he does because I was more than ready to. “That’s enough. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve stood by and let you walk all over that girl her entire life because I thought it was better to not get involved. But I won’t stand here and let you speak like that about mydaughter when she’s next door in agony. I’m ashamed of myself for not doing this before now.”
It’s the most passionate I’ve ever heard the man speak, and I’m momentarily convinced I’m hallucinating.
“Terry,” Andrea gapes. “What?—”
“I want a divorce.” Terry announces, standing just that bit taller.
I glance between the two before deciding it’s not my circus and these two are definitely not my monkeys. I slowly back away until I’m back in the delivery room.
“Get over here,” Rosie wails, and I cross the room in seconds until I’m by her side.
Seven hoursand thirty five minutes later there’s tears in my eyes and a bundle in Rosie’s arms.
“You did so good, baby,” I choke out, pressing a kiss to her head. “I’m so proud of you.”
Rosie sobs as she clutches our daughter to her chest, and I think my heart is about to burst straight out of mine.
I wrap my arm around them both. My girls.
Our daughter opens her eyes, and her wails slowly settle until she’s staring up at us with big, curious eyes.
“Hi there,” Rosie breathes, tracing her finger across her smooth cheek.
“Hi, baby girl,” I say, catching her roving hand with mine. Her tiny fingers clench around my thumb, and I know I’m going to be wrapped around this girl’s finger for the rest of my life.
I bury my head in Rosie’s hair as the tears flood my eyes. My hand covers hers and the tiny body underneath it. “Ilove you, Rosie,” I say as I gently nudge her nose with mine. “I love you so much.”
Rosie presses a wet kiss to my lips. “I love you too.”
“Now what do we do?” I whisper.
“I don’t know.” Rosie laughs wetly.
“She’s beautiful,” Julie asks, peering over the bed. “Have you decided on a name?”
Rosie glances up at me with an encouraging smile.
“Olive.” I say, throat thick, “Olive Elizabeth.”
Rosie glances up at me with shining eyes. It was her idea to honor my father and I love her for it more than I ever have. It was my suggestion that we make Betty a namesake too.
It’s only later, when all our friends have been sent the appropriate pictures and Olive has finally been allowed to leave our arms, that I leave Rosie dozing in bed, her arm protectively curled around the bassinet next to her.
I step outside, ready to call my mother, when I spot a figure in the waiting room.
It’s late, nearly four in the morning, and the ward is quiet.
I stop at a vending machine and buy two drinks before taking a seat next to Terry.
“Here, Granddad.” I hand him one of the bottles and he looks up in surprise.
“She had the baby?” he asks, his voice breaking.
I nod, unable to keep the pride from my voice as I tell him, “Olive Elizabeth.”
He nods his head until he’s leaning forward, his head in his hands. I gently tap his back as sobs rack his body.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sitting back up straight and taking a steadying breath. “I’m sorry. Olive, that’s a beautiful name.”
