“I want to see.” He grins, tilting his head to get a better look. “Oh, fuck… what the… how the…” His eyes connect with mine. “This is insane!”
My nostrils flare as I push again, feeling like I’m being ripped apart. I’m never letting him touch me again. He can keep his hands and his dick to himself. I’ll never ever—never ever—let him near me again.
Why the hell can’t men carry babies yet? It’s the twenty-first century, surely they should have some kind of science now that lets a woman keep her vagina just how she wants it.
“My vagina will never be the same again!” I shout before putting all of my effort into another push as Evan watches in fascination.
I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna skin him alive and make sure that he never gets anywhere near me with his dick again.
“Ooooohhhh! I see the baby, Lex! What is it, doc? A girl? A boy? An—”
“Evan?” I grit out.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Shut the fuck up and let me push the watermelon out.”
“Gotcha.” He nods, but still doesn’t stop watching as the contraction flows through me and then finally I feel the relief and then a baby is being wiped over, a cry sounds out and I’m being told, “It’s a girl,” and then handed her.
I stare at her, amazed and in shock, not knowing what to do or say. I’m speechless, completely speechless, but totally in love. I’ve been cooking this baby for nine months, but nothing made it feel real until now.
Her eyes open and I still stare, not saying a word as Evan stands beside me.
“She’s perfect,” I finally whisper.
“Like her mama,” Evan says, planting a kiss on my forehead as I trail my finger down her cheek. She’s so smooth, so soft.
I choke back tears as I turn my head to face Evan, staring into his honey eyes. I never thought I’d be here. A year ago I was locked up in a prison with no future, no possibilities, and now I have a man who loves me and a baby girl who is going to grow up with the best father she could possibly ask for.
He leans down, planting a soft kiss to my lips before saying, “I can live with your vagina never being the same.”
I grin, seeing the laughter in his eyes before smacking him in the chest with my free hand. “You’re impossible.”
“I know,” he says, chuckling and then leaning down to our baby girl and whispering, “Welcome to the world, Olivia.”
About the Author
Abigail Davies grew up with a passion for words, storytelling, maths, and anything pink. Dreaming up characters—quite literally—and talking to them out loud is a daily occurrence for her. She finds it fascinating how a whole world can be built with words alone, and how everyone reads and interprets a story differently. Now following her dreams of writing, Abigail has found the passion that she always knew was there. When she’s not writing: she’s a mother to two daughters who she encourages to use their imagination as she believes that it’s a magical thing, or getting lost in a good book. If she’s doing neither of those things, you can be sure she’s surfing the web buying new makeup, clothes, or binge watching another show as she becomes one with her sofa.
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