“Oh! It’s burning,” she gasped. She grunted, her chin buried into her chest, tears rolling down her red face.
Julie checked between her legs.
“You’re crowning, Lucy. Don’t push right now. Give your vagina a chance to stretch. I know you probably want to push like hell, but give your body a chance to adjust.”
Lucy tucked her chin down more and panted.
“Right. Go for it, Lucy. Whatever feels good. Give me all you’ve got,” Julie said.
Lucy strained upward, letting go of Dom’s hand to clutch at the mattress, both hands fisting into the sheets. Dom moved close, his arm sliding around her shoulders to support her, wanting to take some of the pain for her or help her in some way.
“Good girl. You’re doing great, Lucy. I can see the baby’s head,” Julie said.
“Oh!” Lucy said, her eyes widening suddenly.
And then a thin, high wail sounded and Julie was holding a small, red-and-white bundle in her arms.
“Is she okay? Is she all right?” Lucy asked.
“She’s breathing well. Our neonate specialist, Dr. Wilson, is just going to check her over,” Julie said.
Dom took Lucy’s weight as she relaxed. Not for a second did her gaze waver from the small shape in the doctor’s arms. Dom stared down at Lucy’s face, damp with sweat, tendrils of hair clinging to her temples. She was amazing. Absolutely amazing.
“Lucy, I need you to stay with me for a bit,” Julie said.
Lucy tensed and groaned, a look of utter surprise crossing her face.
“More pain. Isn’t it supposed to stop now?” she gasped.
“That’s the placenta. Just push when you need to.”
The next few minutes passed in a blur as Lucy grimaced and panted and bore down.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Well done, Lucy,” Julie said.
“How is my baby?” Lucy asked for the fifth time.
“She’s six pounds three, a good weight for thirty-four weeks,” Dr. Wilson said. “Good color. Good movement.”
“Can I hold her?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t see why not. We’ll want to get her into an incubator and check her out more fully, but she’s a good, strong, healthy baby for thirty-four weeks,” Dr. Wilson said.
He brought the baby to the bed. Lucy held out her arms and the doctor placed her on Lucy’s chest. She looked impossibly tiny to Dom, her body curled in on itself, her skin still speckled with blood and a white, waxy substance. Her dark hair was matted to her skull, her tiny face screwed up in outrage as she mewled her objection to the rude awakening she’d just experienced.
“She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. “She looks like you.”
Lucy laughed. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached out and ran a finger gently down her daughter’s cheek.
“Hello, little one. I’ve been waiting so long to meet you.”
“Congratulations, Lucy. Do you have a name picked out?” Julie asked, a warm smile on her face.
Lucy nodded, never taking her gaze from her child.
“Mariella. It was my grandmother’s name,” she said.
“That’s lovely. Does it mean anything?” Julia asked.
“Beloved,” Dom said quietly. “It means beloved.”
Lucy looked up at him. There was nothing he could do about the tears on his face, so he just held her eye.
“Lucy, how about we see if she will take the breast?” Dr Wilson suggested. “She may not, but she’s so strong I’d like to at least give it a try.”
Dom let her rest back against the pillows while Julie helped adjust her hospital gown. Lucy cradled her daughter close to her breast while Julie offered a few quick instructions.
At first Mariella screwed up her face and turned her face away as Lucy brushed her nipple across the baby’s mouth. Lucy tried again, and finally the baby’s mouth opened. She nuzzled the nipple curiously, then instinct took over and she drew it into her mouth.
“That’s fantastic. Wonderful,” Dr. Wilson said.
A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face as Mariella suckled. She glanced up at Dom, her eyes big and soft.
“Isn’t she incredible?”
“Yes.”
Emotion choked his throat. More than anything today, the sight of her breastfeeding her child hit him in the gut and the chest.
“I’ll go try Rosie again,” he said, backing away from the bed.
Lucy nodded, not taking her eyes from Mariella.
“Tell her to hurry. She’s missing out.”
“I will.”
He stepped out into the corridor and strode down the corridor quickly until he could see daylight outside the emergency entrance doors. Then he was sucking in the damp cool air of a wet afternoon.
He had just witnessed a miracle. It was the only way he could describe it. The birth of a tiny new person. Lucy’s child. Mariella. Beloved.
He took a deep breath, fighting for control. He would never forget the past hour, ever. It was burned into his memory, the most privileged and precious moments of his life.
For a man in his position, it had been the ultimate gift. A priceless blessing.
And he was well aware that he was the last person Lucy would have chosen to share the experience with if she’d been given a choice.
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
Now that the emergency was over, Lucy would want her family by her side.
A footfall sounded in the corridor and she tensed. Maybe they were bringing Mariella back to her.
Or maybe it was Dom.
He hadn’t come back. Not since the birth. She’d waited for him to come back after calling Rosie and Andrew again, but he hadn’t.
She frowned down at the blanket she was pleating between her fingers. She knew better than to expect anything from him. After all, he was the man who “couldn’t give her what she wanted.” Seeing her give birth wasn’t going to change anything. If anything, it would probably make him run in the opposite direction.
Even if he had cried when she held her daughter for the first time.
“Lucy!”
Rosie rushed into the room, Andrew following.
“I’m so sorry. We were in court, it went on and on. We broke the sound barrier trying to get here,” her sister said. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“I’m fine. The baby is good. The doctors wanted to check her out again, but she’s really healthy. Big for thirty-four weeks.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Rosie said.
“Dom was here,” Lucy said.
“So I gathered.” Rosie gave her a careful look and Lucy shrugged.
“That’ll show him for dumping me.”
“Yeah, way to punish him. Make him witness childbirth,” Rosie said.
Andrew leaned forward and kissed Lucy’s cheek.
“Congratulations. Do we have a name?”
“Mariella.”
Rosie’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh. That’s beautiful.”
Andrew smiled and put his arm around his wife.
“When can we see her?” Rosie asked.
“She’s in the preemie nursery on the second floor.”
Andrew and Rosie looked at each other.
“Off you go,” Lucy said with a rueful smile. “I can see I’m no longer the star of the show.”
“We won’t be long,” Rosie said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Rosie and Andrew headed for the door.
“Oh, and your mother’s on her way in,” Andrew said.
She settled back down onto her pillows as they left and closed her eyes. Her body ached. She had two stitches and some bruising from the rapid labor. She was exhausted. She wanted her daughter.
And she also wanted Dom to come back.
“Not ours,” Andrew said. He gave her a nudge and she saw that the crib closest to the door was labeled Mariella Basso and was playing host to the biggest baby in the nursery.
“Good lord, she’s a giant,” Rosie said.
Andrew laughed. “Only by comparison.”
They moved closer, pressing their hands against the glass. A few dark strands of hair poked out from beneath the baby’s bonnet.
“She’s got dark hair, like Lucy.”
“And she’s got Lucy’s nose and mouth.”
“Thank God. Can you imagine Marcus’s nose on a girl?”
A nurse came forward to check on Mariella. Rosie frowned and moved to the doorway.
“Excuse me, sorry. I’m her aunt. Is everything okay?” she said.
The nurse smiled.
“Absolutely. She’s a firecracker, this one.”
She gestured for Rosie and Andrew to come in.
“Come closer. She won’t bite.”
“If you’re sure…?” Rosie said.
“Of course. Aunts need to meet their nieces straightaway. Makes it easier to ask for babysitting duties later on,” the nurse said with a wink.
Rosie moved closer to the clear-sided crib. She glanced at Andrew and he smiled, his eyes soft.
Mariella lay curled on her side, her hands pressed to her mouth. Her eyes worked behind her eyelids, and her mouth opened and closed rhythmically.
“Mariella. It’s very nice to meet you,” she said quietly, leaning close. “You certainly came in a big hurry, didn’t you?”
The baby shifted her head fretfully.
“Hello, little lady,” Andrew said. He reached out a finger and ran it over her cheek. “She’s so soft.”
He smiled at Rosie, and she reached out a tentative hand.
This was her sister’s child, her blood. The next generation of her family. A part of Lucy, and a part of Rosie, too.
She stroked Mariella’s cheek, then traced a tiny pink ear.
“She’s perfect,” she said.
Love welled up in her, and she let the tears slide down her cheeks. That was something she’d learned in her once a week therapy sessions—that it was okay to cry, to feel compassion for herself. She’d learned a lot of other things, too, about herself, and her relationships with her mother and her sister and her husband.
Nobody had waved a magic wand. She still had her moments of doubt and uncertainty. But she was starting to understand herself better, and how the patterns of her childhood had impacted on her adult life.
She traced one of Mariella’s tightly fisted hands. To her surprise, the baby uncurled her fingers and opened her hand. Rosie hesitated a moment, then pressed her finger into the tiny palm. Immediately little fingers closed around her finger in a tight, instinctive grip. Rosie swallowed noisily and sniffed. Then she looked at her husband.
“I want this,” she said fiercely.
He leaned across and kissed her.
“We’ll get there.”
Looking into his blue eyes, she could only believe that they would.
“Whatever it takes,” she said.
It had become their mantra.
“Whatever it takes.”
He looked caught out.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. The nurse said you might not have small enough clothes for Mariella since she was so tiny, so I went and grabbed a few things for her.”
She pulled herself higher in the bed and saw her overnight bag was sitting on the guest chair, alongside two shopping bags.
He’d gone to her flat to collect her baby bag. She frowned, and he shifted uncomfortably.
“I hope you don’t mind. Your keys were in your purse, and I figured Rosie and Andrew wouldn’t have a chance to stop by home on the way in…” he said.
“It’s fine. It’s lovely, actually. I hate hospital gowns. Thank you. That was…thoughtful.”
He was always thoughtful. She’d been so hurt and angry over the past few weeks it had been easy to ignore the many little kindnesses he showed her every day. But the truth was, even though he was no longer interested in her, he still looked out for her. To the extent that he’d actually offered to give her business back to her today.
“Is there anything else I can get for you? Anyone else you need me to contact?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“No. Thank you for looking after me today. You always seem to be there when I need you.”
He shrugged again and looked away. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him looking so uneasy.
Was it because he felt guilty? Was that why he was so generous and considerate and compassionate toward her, and why he was so uneasy now? He couldn’t give her what she wanted—him—so he tried to give her everything else?
The thought made her feel very sad. For both of them.
“I suppose this has put you off babies for life,” she said. “All the moaning and groaning.”
“No.”
He glanced toward the door.
“If you need to go, it’s okay,” she said.
“It’s just I know you’ll have all your relatives here any minute.”
“It’s okay. I understand. This is probably the last place you want to be.”
He frowned, started to say something, then shook his head.
“I’ll, um, check in with Rosie tomorrow, see how you’re doing,” he said.
“Sure.”
He turned for the door. She struggled to contain the words rising up inside her, but she couldn’t help herself.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad it was you,” she said before he could go. “I’m glad you were the one who was with me. I know that probably makes you uncomfortable, but it’s true. It’s crazy, but I can’t think of anyone who could have made me feel as safe as you did today.”
His step faltered. She could feel heat rushing into her face.
“Lucy,” he said. His expression was pained as he turned to look at her.
She held up a hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I don’t need to hear how you did me a favor again. You’re not the only guy who’d run a mile at the thought of an instant family. The miracle is probably that you even looked twice at me in the first place.”
She knew she sounded angry and self-pitying and bitter, but she wasn’t a woman who loved easily. And for better or for worse she’d fallen in love with Dom and it was going to take more than eight weeks for her heart to mend. Maybe that made her soft or stupid, but it was just the way it was.
“It’s not you, Lucy,” he said. “Or the baby. Believe that. No guy in his right mind would walk away from you.”
She didn’t look up from the blanket. She didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes, or the guilt.
“It’s not you, Lucy,” he said again.
She could feel him watching her. She was very afraid she was about to cry.
“You should go,” she said.
She rolled over onto her side so her back was to the door. She waited for the sound of footsteps, but it never came. She sighed.
“Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. Pretend I didn’t. Just go.”
“I can’t have children.”
His voice was so quiet, his words so totally unexpected, she almost didn’t hear him.
She stared blankly at the wall. Then she looked over her shoulder, certain she had to have misunderstood. He stood stiffly in the doorway, his dark eyes steady on her.
“I’m sterile, Lucy,” he said simply. “That’s why my marriage broke up, and it’s why I ended things with you, okay? Not because of anything you did or didn’t do, or because of Mariella. You are the most…” He paused and lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose. His shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath.
“One day soon, some lucky bastard is going to find you and give you everything you need and want, and all of this won’t mean a thing.”
She stared at him. She thought about the way he’d gone quiet the day they discussed Andrew and Rosie’s baby problems in her flat, and she thought about the way he’d been so distant the next day. And she remembered what he’d said to her, over and over:
I did you a favor.
For eight weeks she’d lain awake, sifting through every second of her time with him. The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d talked to her, the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made her feel. For the life of her, she hadn’t been able to understand how she’d gotten it so wrong, misread all the signals, been suckered so completely.
And all along…
“You walked away from me because you’re sterile?”
“Because I can’t give you what you want.”
Her hands clenched the edge of the blanket as she understood what he’d done: sacrificed himself—
them
—for her. For what he believed she wanted.
“How do you know what I want?” she asked quietly.
“You want more children. You think family is the purpose of life. You want brothers and sisters for your daughter. That’s more than enough to rule me out.”
He said it like it was carved in stone, immutable, unchangeable, unarguable.
“How do you know what I want?” she repeated, her voice louder. “Did you ask me? Did you give me the choice? Did you sit down and have a conversation with
me
so that
I
could decide what my future was going to look like?”
He shifted his weight.
“I didn’t want you to have to give up your life’s dream for me, Lucy. I’ve played that game before, I know how it ends. I did what I thought was best.”
“Then you’re an idiot, Dominic Bianco!” she said. “You think guys like you grow on trees? You think people fall in love the way we fell in love every day? I did everything I could not to love you, but it was impossible and you dared to make a decision on my behalf without even consulting me?”
She thumped the bed with her fists, her body vibrating with fury.
“Lucy, calm down,” he said.
“I have been miserable for two months, crying myself to sleep, dragging myself through each day, eating my heart out over you! Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”
He took a step forward, but she grabbed the plastic water jug from her tray table and threw it at him. It glanced off his arm and hit the ground with a clatter, water splashing everywhere.
“You should have asked me!” she said. “You should have bloody well asked me and bloody well let me choose. You stupid, stupid idiot.”
She was crying, her face crumpled with distress.
“Lucy,” he said.
He crossed to the bed and tried to take her in his arms.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he said. “Please.”
She hit him on the chest, the shoulder, the arm but he caught her fists easily and held them to his chest with one hand as his other pulled her close. Then her head was on his shoulder and she was breathing in the warm, woody smell of him.
“You idiot. Don’t you know how much I love you? I took my clothes off for you when I was the size of a whale. Surely that must have told you something?” she sobbed into his chest.
She felt him press a kiss onto the top of her head.
“I want you to be happy,” he said quietly. “Can’t you see that? I want you to have everything.”
She pulled back to look him in the face.
“Life doesn’t work like that, Dom. No one has everything. And if I get to choose whether I have you in my life to love and laugh with and grow old with and lose my marbles with, I’m going to choose you every time. Every. Time.”
He searched her face as though he couldn’t quite let himself believe what she was saying.
“You want children,” he said.
“Yes. Don’t you?”
He sighed heavily, and she could see years of grief and resignation in his eyes.
“More than anything, Lucy. But it’s not going to happen.”
“Ever heard of adoption? Sperm donation? Fostering? How many ways do you need to have children in your life, Dom?”
He stared at her. “Dani didn’t want to adopt. She wouldn’t even consider sperm donation.”
Lucy reached up and grasped his chin in her hands.
“I’m not Dani, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m Lucia Carmella Basso, and I love
you,
Dominic Bianco. I want
you.
Anything else is a bonus.”
For a moment Dom just stared at her. Then he closed his eyes and pulled her close, burying his face in her neck. His shoulders shook and Lucy’s arms tightened around him.
He’d been so hurt by his ex-wife’s rejection. So wounded. Lucy held him as close as she could, trying to convey with her body how much she needed and wanted and loved him.
“I love you, Dom. You’re more than enough for me.”
He held her tighter, his arms like steel around her.
“Lucy. God. I love you so much,” he said over and over.
“I know,” she said, pressing her hand to the back of his head. “You love me so much you were prepared to give me up. I should probably warn you, I’m not that noble. I plan on hanging on to you for the rest of my life. So if you have a problem with that, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
He laughed. He pulled back to look into her face and she reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.
“My sweet idiot,” she said softly, lovingly.
Then she pulled him close and kissed him. It was like coming home after too long away. It was perfect, as good as she remembered.
Better—because this time she understood exactly who she held in her arms and how lucky she was and how lucky he was.
“Hey, Luce, guess who we found in the elevator? Oops!”
“Lucia!”
Dom broke their kiss but didn’t immediately turn to acknowledge her sister and mother. He smiled and caressed her cheek. She smiled back.
Later, they would talk some more. He would hold her, and she would tell him over and over how much she loved him—whatever it took to remove the shadows of the doubt he’d lived with for so long.
“Does someone want to tell me what is going on? Why are you kissing Dominic, Lucia? I thought there had been a falling out? Why does nobody tell me anything?” Sophia asked.
Lucy’s smile broadened as she looked over Dom’s shoulder at her family. Rosie had a smug smile on her face while Andrew was doing his best to look as though he found his sister-in-law in a lip-lock with her estranged business partner after giving childbirth every day of the week. Her mother was flushed and expectant-looking, far more curious than she was outraged.
Lucy took Dom’s hand in hers and tangled her fingers with his.
“Relax, Ma. Everything’s going to be all right.”
And for the first time in a long time, she knew it was true. She knew the weeks and months and years ahead would bring with them their fair share of problems and heartbreak and troubles. But she also knew she could take on anything with Dom at her side.
She glanced at him, and he raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to her wrist.
She smiled. This was going to be good.