Mad Addiction (Crazy Beautiful #2) (26 page)

I’m about to make some crack about my grandma driving faster than this, but Kinsley pipes in and squeezes my hand reassuringly. “We’re almost there, Kells, promise.”

When we get to the hospital entrance a nurse comes out with a wheelchair. Kinsley and Lucas follow as I’m wheeled into the waiting room. As we round the corner I hear shouting. I look up to see Ryan at the nurse’s station, looking like he’s about to deck someone.

I glare at Lucas, even though I’m secretly relieved. Of course he called him.

Ryan spots me and he rushes over as I’m hit with the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. I try to breathe through it, but it fucking hurts.

The nurse looks at me before stating, “We need to get you into a room right away. Your friends can wait here.”

She starts to wheel me down the hall and Ryan follows closely behind. Since we barely acknowledge each other and I don’t offer an explanation, the nurse holds him back. “Sir, I’m sorry, you can wait here.”

Ryan looks at me, unsure, and I become anxious as another agonizing contraction rips through me so I loudly confess, “He’s my husband!”

I don’t miss Lucas and Kinsley’s shocked and confused expressions, but I can’t deal with that right now. I’m being ripped apart from the inside out and regardless of whatever happened between us, Ryan is the only person I want with me in that delivery room.

The nurse helps me change into a gown and a short while later Dr. Conners appears. All I keep repeating is, “How’s the baby? Is he ok?” That’s the only thing that matters. I already lost one Blake boy . . . losing the other would destroy me.

I look restlessly at Ryan, fear and panic blazing in my eyes. He kisses my forehead and squeezes my hand. Dr. Conners assures me everything is fine, and I burst into tears.

The next surge of crippling pain pulls me back to the situation at hand, and I get the overwhelming urge to push. I hear the doctor say something about ten centimeters and the nurse coaches me on how to breathe through each contraction. Every time I feel one hit I take a deep breath and push with all of my might for about ten seconds, then relax until the next strikes a moment later.

Funnily enough, I can’t help but think labor is a lot like being in love: It starts out all great and happy . . . you’re excited about what’s going to happen and think everything will be sunshine and rainbows from here on out, but then reality—no doubt coupled with pain—eventually kicks in, swiftly and suddenly, and it takes everything in you to get through it. You feel drained and weak, positive you can’t go on, but somehow you survive, and all you can do is take deep breaths and try to push the feelings aside. And while you might get some small glimmer of temporary relief, just as you begin to relax, the hurt hits you out of nowhere yet again, causing you to scream in agony.

I grind my teeth together and bear down as hard as I can as the next wave of torment crashes into me, thinking I deserve every single ounce of misery coming to me.

The next hour passes in a blur as I experience just about every emotion humanly possible—fear, pain, excitement, anxiety, more pain, and relief. But as soon as they lay my son on my chest time passes in slow motion and everything goes quiet as the most profound sense of complete and utter amazement overtakes me. I know without a doubt this fascinating being we created was more than worth every ounce of pain I had to endure. I look up to Ryan, who runs his hand down my shoulder and kisses Caden’s forehead, smiling bigger than I ever thought possible, and I know loving him was worth it, too.

I just wish he could love me back.

And just like that everyone and everything in the room resumes its normal pace as noise and excitement fill the air. After Caden’s cleaned and wrapped I get to hold him for a while before exhaustion overtakes me and I finally drift off to sleep.

When I finally open my eyes, I see Ryan standing at the foot of the bed. He’s wearing the same worn pair of jeans and purple t-shirt he had on yesterday. His hair looks adorably messy, like he spent all night running his fingers through it. While he’s never exactly been hard on the eyes, the way he looks holding our son—strong and proud—steals the air from my lungs. When he notices I’m awake he smiles, and the sight has my throat choking up.

Needing to focus on anything else I ask in a raspy voice, “So, was the nurse right?” He raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Was birth magical to watch since it was your own kid?” I tease, pushing myself against the pillows to sit up.

He rocks Caden back and forth, stroking the tops of his tiny fingers. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel so much for someone you just met until they put this little guy in my arms.” He pauses to look at me and chuckles. “But it was still fucking gross.”

I laugh out loud before extending my arms. “Ok, my turn. Hand him over.”

Ryan comes around to the side of the bed and places Caden in my lap. I stare down into his soft, sleepy face, fully aware he looks just like his dad.
Fuck my life.

After a moment of awkward silence Ryan clears his throat. “Kelley, I—“

I cut him off before he has the chance to say anything. “Please, Blake. Don’t. I don’t want to talk about what happened, ok?” I just want to enjoy this . . . this one chance for it to be the three of us before reality slaps me back in the face. I focus on Caden, relieved he’s so little and has some time before life gets complicated. All he has to worry about right now is eating, sleeping, and pooping. Lucky.

Ryan looks like he’s going to say something more so I brace myself. I’m terrified to hear whatever it is. He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair. “We still have to figure some shit out, Brooks.” He motions to Caden, and I know he’s right. I thought I’d have more time to think of what to do . . . I don’t even have any diapers at my apartment, let alone a crib or anything. Note to self: next time you break up with your baby daddy, pack a bigger bag.

Caden yawns and looks so content the tears automatically well up behind my eyes. So much for the chance to have his family together—I ruined it for my own scared, selfish reasons.
Well, kid, you’re not even a day old and I’ve already screwed up your life. Best mom EVER.

Ryan shifts closer, softening his voice as a single tear slips down my cheek and onto Caden’s blanket. “Let me take you both home with me. At least for a couple of days?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and nod, snuggling Caden close to my chest.

I know being around Ryan with my confused feelings is a terrible idea, but I realize now how much I’m willing to sacrifice for my son. I’ll do anything as long as it’s what’s best for him.

And who knows . . . maybe it will somehow magically be best for me, too.

Ryan

One Week Old

“D
ude, what the hell are we feeding you?”

I look at Caden’s innocent, unaware face and can’t help but soften.

I also can’t help but cringe as I see what a fucking bomb he left in his diaper.

The past week has been a crazy ride, learning everything there is to know about taking care of an entire person on the spot: He needs to eat like twelve times a day, doesn’t like to sleep for more than two hours at a clip, and sometimes he even sleeps with his eyes open, which is pretty friggin’ creepy.

We’ve been so busy taking care of Caden, trying to get some sleep ourselves, and entertaining visitors that Kelley and I have barely had a chance to see each other, let alone talk. When she’s with Caden I try to work, and when I’m with him she tries to sleep. She was up with him most of the night, so right now I expect her to be out cold for a while. She mentioned in passing her mom was coming to stay with her to help with the baby, so I suppose that means she will be leaving soon. What did I expect—she’d come back here and everything would go back to normal? What the fuck is normal for us anyway?

I breathe through my mouth and try to keep from gagging as I change my son’s offensive diaper. I get him cleaned up, making sure to cover his junk so he doesn’t piss all over me (learned that one the hard way), and slide a new diaper on with an efficient, skilled execution. I feel like the fucking Pampers’ Pit Crew. I go to pull the tabs on the diaper to secure it around his little body when I pull a little too hard and it rips.
Shit.
I reach for a new one stacked under the changing table to find it empty.
Double shit.

Ok, I got this. Think, Blake, think. I look around the room and see my toolbox in the corner.
Bingo.
Holding Caden in place with one hand, careful he doesn’t roll off the changing table, I reach for the toolbox with the other and feel around inside until my fingers grip what I’m searching for. I pull out a roll of duct tape and hold it up like it’s the fucking Heisman Trophy before tearing off a piece big enough to wrap around Caden’s lower half a few times. Once I secure the diaper in place, I lift him up to make sure it holds. Perfect.

“Your dad is a fucking genius, little man. I hope you get that from me.” He wriggles his little legs and gurgles.

I lay him down in his crib, leaning over to study his face. I see so much of Kelley in him that it makes me smile. “But I hope you get a lot more from your mom. She’s the fucking coolest and she’s going to need you.” I sadly shake my head. “I screwed up, and as much as I want to be there for both of you, I don’t think your mom wants me around anymore. It’s all my fucking fault, so don’t ever think it’s hers, ok? I’m going to need you to take care of her, though. Can you do that for me?” He blinks at me with his fierce blue eyes. Logically I’m aware he has no fucking clue what I’m talking about, but somehow it helps to say it out loud. “I’ll hate myself for the rest of my fucking life knowing she doesn’t believe I can be Mr. Right for her, so now it’s up to you, kid. I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on a guy, but she’s worth it. I promise.”

I rub my hand over his torso, trying to take a mental note of everything about him in this moment—how he looks, how he feels, how he smells. I know without a doubt he is the second best thing to ever happen in my life. The first is obviously seducing his mom at our best friends’ wedding. She might be sorry about it, but I’m not. I don’t regret it for one single second, and I never will.

Caden’s face scrunches up as he yawns, and I know he’s getting sleepy. I should probably let him fall asleep in his crib and try to grab a little shut-eye myself, but instead I scoop him up to cradle him in my arms. He gets restless, fighting sleep, so I rock him back and forth and try to soothe him by softly singing:

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you

So please don't take my sunshine away