Just When...

[Clair 247]

You are all so very kind! What would I do without you?! Here's the next installment and again it's not quite what it should be I'm afraid! Something just doesn't feel right about it but I'm hoping that you all will still enjoy it! Thankyou again for all your comments, truly are such an encouragement! Thankyou!

Chapter Twenty-One

Belle gazed at the reflection looking back at her as she sat uncomfortably at the end of her bed. Tired, that was her verdict. She looked tired, drained. She ran a hand over her swollen stomach, an instinctive reaction it seemed these days. The birth was coming closer everyday but in all honesty it wasn’t at the forefront of her mind and it somehow made her feel a little guilty. She turned slightly and with increasing difficulty to see the other reason she looked a little tired, the man who may or may not be there this time tomorrow night, his court case hanging threateningly over their heads. Although to look at him now you wouldn’t know it. He was led flat on his stomach across her bed, his bare feet pressing against the wicker headboard, knocking often and unintentionally the string of globe lights she had hung across it long ago.

He was poring over a baby book they had purchased together not long after Aden found out about the pregnancy. It was filled with all sorts of facts and pictures of how the baby was growing week by week, the effects on the mother’s body and handy hints on how the father could be more involved too. It had become a favourite pastime of his to look up whichever stage of pregnancy she was currently at before firing facts and questions at her at an alarming rate. Already this evening she had found out that their baby’s toe and fingernails were now fully grown and that the hearing and speech centres within the baby’s brain were now significantly matured to be able to recognise her voice at birth. Since reading this particular fact he had spoken to her stomach rather than her face in a loud, deliberate speech, convinced that their baby should recognise his voice too. She had smiled at his attempts but inside she felt far more like crying. She could lose him tomorrow and although she knew he was deliberately being calm and steady for her sake somewhere within her she wished that they were a little more prepared. They had been so focused on the baby that they hadn’t really allowed themselves to think of the possibility that he might be suddenly snatched away from them. Before they knew it their last night together had come upon them and she wasn’t ready, she was nowhere near ready to accept that by this time tomorrow she could very well be sitting here alone, sleeping here without him. Why hadn’t she pushed him to be more realistic about his chances, made sure they had prepared themselves for the worst? But she already knew the answer. They had stayed positive and buried their heads in the sand for one reason and one reason only, the child currently kicking her in the ribs.

Belle was snapped out of her daydream by a persistent poke in her thigh, accompanied by another apparent fact-finding mission. Having just read that at this particular stage a boy will weigh more than a girl he was firing questions at her about the supposed weight of their child, his hands now hand-spanning her bump in a bizarre attempt to find the answer. He questioned her again, his voice brimming with growing excitement but she couldn’t answer him, couldn’t form the words, just couldn’t bring herself to look in those eyes. She didn’t want to bring him down, didn’t want his memories coloured by her breaking down in front of him but right now she could do nothing else, the threat of his departure too real to ignore.

After receiving no response he looked up at her, suddenly realising, registering her fear and despair. He pushed himself up so his face was level with hers, his eyes filled with growing concern as hers filled with tears. His hands came up, framing her face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears. Mirroring his movements she too brought her hands to her face, covering his with her own. She brought one hand slowly to her mouth, pressing a desperate kiss into his palm. Without a word he held her close, moving them both carefully backwards to settle more comfortably against the pillows. He pulled her into his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder as his arm wound itself protectively around her waist, his hand finally coming to rest flat against the side of her stomach. He ran his free hand coaxingly through her tousled hair, calming her, soothing her and she finally felt herself relax in his arms.

He said he knew what was worrying her, that although he hadn’t shown it he too was worried about tomorrow, of course he was. The thought that he might not be there, led next to her the following night, it was more than he could bear. He couldn’t envisage missing anything going on in the pregnancy let alone not being present at the birth. He stopped mid-sentence as they both felt a little foot press itself against her skin, against the palm of his hand, branding it as she had earlier. Belle lifted her head to look at him as he admitted that ok, he didn’t know what the future held, what tomorrow would bring. He couldn’t say for certain what would or wouldn’t happen in court, what the outcome would be but what he did know was that he couldn’t wait to meet the owner of that tiny, baby foot, that he was certain of his love for both Belle and their baby and without doubt that whatever the outcome their future as a family was sure.

As Belle ran her fingers slowly across Aden’s bare chest she couldn’t help but marvel at his ability to sleep at a time like this. His breathing steady and even in a world that seemed so very chaotic, so very uncertain. He was lost in a world of dreams, hopefully in a world much calmer and happier than the one she was currently fighting against. She longed for his peace, for relief from the thoughts that looped through her head over and over again but she couldn’t let go, couldn’t give into the tiredness that had such a hold on her body. Tonight might very well be her last night with him and she wanted to, needed to savour every last second.

[Clair 247]

Awwww, you are all so unbelivably kind! Thankyou so much for all those comments, I couldn't quite believe them! Thankyou so very much! Here's the next installment, I apologise that it's quite short but the next chapter will be longer, I promise! Here we go, enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Two

Aden fiddled nervously with the collar of his shirt as he tried in vain to concentrate on the words of the judge sitting to his right. He was questioning the man currently interrogating Aden, about something Aden wasn’t quite sure of, his focus solely on the woman sat before him in that cool courtroom. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something wasn’t right, he could feel it. She looked uncomfortable, perhaps unremarkable in itself being that she was not only the partner of the man currently on trial for both kidnapping and attempted murder but also heavily pregnant and had been sat on a suitably comfortless chair for far too long. But it was something else, something new that was causing her shoulders to tense uncontrollably and frown lines appear on her forehead at regular intervals. If only he could talk to her, just ask her if she was ok, if there was anything wrong. But stuck on the stand, permitted to only answer questions fired directly at him he felt overwhelmingly powerless.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat again, perhaps even more so and his concern for her increased dramatically. There was something wrong, he could feel it, he just needed to confirm it. He tried again to catch her eye, trying to read some kind of secret signal, gain some clue as to what was going on. Roman and Nicole sat seemingly oblivious in the row in front of her, blind to her regular shifting of position. Surely they could hear it, her movements so deafening to him across the courtroom, so helpless to stop it.

‘Mr Jeffries? Mr Jeffries? Answer the question please Mr Jeffries’

His mind was blank. He had no idea what the man had asked him, no clue as to what the correct answer should be. He stumbled over his plea to hear the question again, his tongue sticking resolutely to the roof of his mouth. He lowered his gaze to pick nervously at a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket, trying hard to concentrate on the man’s words, trying to block out her movements, her very presence. It was too distracting and certainly not helping his case any. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw her hands grip the seat in front of her, her knuckles alarmingly white, as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. He raised his gaze to meet hers the look of panic so clear on her face, suddenly mirrored on his own, as her fear, so very palpable, flooded him also.

He didn’t stop to think. Leaping out of his seat and running the length of the courtroom as fast as his feet could carry him. Oblivious to the orders to remain seated, the calls for order and the responding security personnel, focused solely on her face and the look of utter terror that he feared would be an image forever burned in his memory. He was dimly aware of Morag stepping up to the stand, speaking loudly and at an alarmingly rate, glancing back as he finally made it to Belle. Her lips mouthing soundlessly the same two words repeated again and again, until he feared he could take no more, ‘the baby, the baby, the baby’. He lifted her from her seat, gathering her into his arms, her dress uncomfortably wet against his skin. Pausing to yell only for someone to call an ambulance and confident that whatever process Morag was currently conducting would free him to do so he started to walk. Carrying his hopes and dreams for the future, all the family he had, indeed all he had to live for in the shivering, shaking shape of the woman he loved more than anything carefully through the door.

[Clair 247]

Hi all! Apologies for my lack of updates recently, been a crazy couple of days! I hope this next chapter will make up for it a little, it's quite a long one! I'm not sure I'm particularly happy with it (am I ever?!) but let me know what you think! As always your wonderful comments are very much appreciated! Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Three

Belle’s eyes flickered open, registering immediately where she was, crushing confirmation that the nightmare they were currently in was unavoidably real. The hospital bed she lay on was hard and unforgiving and as she moved a little the plastic sheeting beneath the thin hospital linen rustled and ruckled uncomfortably. Plastic tubing tangled itself around her hands and arms, unknown fluids being drip-fed slowly into her unsuspecting body. Many different coloured wires led back to various machines that beeped incessantly, monitoring her own heartbeat and vitals while a bulky belt pressed sensors to the skin stretched across her stomach, monitoring the baby’s. The severity of the situation hit her again, panic, utter terror flooding through her body, it was too early, just too early. Her breathing quickened, her heart throbbing in her chest, the machines not helping matters as they beeped angrily, registering the changes in her body. She stretched her arms out desperately, her hands clenching into fists, gathering the flimsy material of the hospital sheeting within her fingers as she tried to calm her breathing. Then a warm hand slid over her own, its fingers working their way between her own. He was there. He was there and although it didn’t make everything better, his presence was more of a comfort than he would ever know.

Aden ran his free hand across the back of Belle’s, careful to avoid the needle stuck awkwardly there. His fingers traced over the clear medical tape that held it in place as once again he was hit with enormity of the situation, fear and dread crashing over him like a great wave. Rachel had been in a little earlier, trying to explain the situation as best she could. She had been refreshingly calm and steady, a stark contrast to their restless anxiety. In answer to their desperate questioning she had stated simply that right now the plan was to halt the labour from progressing any further with a variety of medications, drugs that were right now being pumped steadily into Belle via the contraption crudely taped to her hand. The contraption he was still carefully avoiding as he stroked her hand rhythmically feigning a sense of calm he did not feel.

Belle braced herself as yet another contraction wracked her body, they weren’t subsiding, weren’t decreasing in strength or number. She knew in her heart that the drugs hadn’t worked, that her labour had been too far-gone to sufficiently stop. She had known sat there in that courtroom, known as they had wheeled her through the hospital that her baby, whether it was the right time or not their baby was in all probability entering the world today. It was supposed to be exciting, a day that the two of them had looked forward to, eagerly anticipating meeting their child for the very first time but now it felt all too rushed, too uncertain, all too frightening. Would the baby really be ok, really be fine? She felt like she had already failed as a mother already, not even being able to get the simply being pregnant, keeping her baby safe and well for nine months part right. If she couldn’t get that right what chance did she have? What kind of mother was she going to turn out to be? Looking back she should have realised, should have known the cramping pains, the painful twinges she had simply dismissed as Braxton-Hicks were not at all. She should have told Aden, let him know what she was experiencing, asked Irene’s opinion, anyone’s but she had suffered in silence and look where it had got her. She should have known, should have realised, maybe then they would have had more options, been able to halt the labour with more success, because right now it looked very much like there was no going back.

Aden wanted it all to stop, wanted to gather Belle into his arms and carry her right out of there. Carry her home to her bed, to slip in beside her and lay there together as they had the previous night. He wanted to make it all go away, for their baby to come at the proper time, no threat of brain damage or breathing difficulties. Just to go back to a time when there was nothing threatening to snatch his family, all he had, cruelly away. The medications hadn’t been successful, the labour too advanced to stop. The contractions now just two to three minutes apart, signified by the systematic crushing of his hand as Belle fought her way through each one. His hand tingling uncomfortably as its circulation was compromised again and again. Seeing her in pain like this was almost too much for him to bear, wanting to step in and take her pain away and being helpless to do so, merely standing on the sidelines like a useless bystander. She was doing so well, handling everything with such apparent ease and serenity that he couldn’t help but feel both in awe of her and so very, very proud.

The night wore on, the hours blurring together under the influence of various painkilling medications. While the gas and air made her feel horrendously nauseous and nothing else, Aden was a source of endless alternatives, massages to ice packs, soothing music to hot packs, each one so very thoughtful but as ineffective as the last. Until finally unable to cope any longer an epidural provided heavenly, longed for relief. She stretched her hand out to gently caress the sandy-haired head resting on his folded, tanned arms beside her. He was exhausted, as worried as she was. At her touch his head snapped up, his eyes blinking rapidly to clear his vision, readying himself for whatever he might be called to do, his chair scraping noisily across the floor as he did so. Feeling guilty for waking him she ran a hand up his arm, pulling him a little closer to her in the process before bringing it up to gently caress his face. He took it to his lips, kissing her fingertips tenderly as his free hand ran through her own hair, smoothing it away from her damp forehead. Then without warning the machines whose incessant beeping had become almost undetectable background noise rang shrilly, causing them both to jump and spring apart, breaking their connection. Staff rushed to the bedside, masking their concern as they checked the machinery over and over to confirm a diagnosis as Belle’s heart beat furiously against her chest, her hands now despairingly empty.

Suddenly the minutes that had seemed so rushed, the hours that had blurred so seamlessly together came to a stand still. Seconds ticked by like hours, as the world seemed to slow to a stop after closer examination revealed that the umbilical cord had become trapped between her cervix and the baby’s head. It had caused their baby’s heart rate to drop dramatically, becoming more and more distressed with every contraction. Belle couldn’t think straight, couldn’t sort through the questions, the fears she needed to voice. Before she even knew what was happening staff began bustling around the bed, preparing her to move without hesitation to theatre, a caesarean section now the only viable option, the safest option for both her and the baby. As forms were thrust towards her, the words too jumbled to make sense of and her hand to weak to hold the pen properly she wanted to question the all-knowing doctors but couldn’t form the words, couldn’t find the words, the lump in her throat and the knot in her stomach making the task feel too great. Her hands were still empty, making her feel for the first time since her arrival totally alone, completely isolated from the constant activity that surrounded her. She gazed almost unseeingly about the room, the bland, fading hospital décor providing little comfort, the staff appearing faceless and unreachable, belonging to a separate world she couldn’t reach out to, couldn’t be a part of.

Then without warning there he was, a constant, something real to cling to. He stood with his back against the wall, the very picture of dejection. His shoulders slumped, head bowed, with his hands pushed firmly into the pockets of his worn jeans. He looked like he had given up, like he already lost the vital game. Something about his desperate appearance stirred something within her; they hadn’t lost, not yet. Yes, it hadn’t gone as they planned, as they had hoped, their situation had gone rapidly from bad to worse but it wasn’t over, there was still time, still opportunity for all this to turn out fine, still time for them to have that elusive happy ending. As if he felt her eyes on him he lifted his head, raising the gaze that had been directed solely at the floor to finally meet hers. His eyes were red-rimmed with tiredness and unshed tears, as hers now flowed freely down her cheeks. He tilted his head to one side, a look of tender love and sympathy on his face. The rest of the world grew quiet as he walked slowly across the room to her, reaching out one hand to take hers, wiping her tears with the other. They were together at least, together in the chaos.

[Clair 247]

Apologies for the double post yesterday! Stupid computer, I really am sorry! Thankyou as always for your beautiful comments, they really do make me want to sit down and get writing for you all! We are coming to an end I'm afraid, just a few chapters left so I hope you enjoy them! Here we go...

Chapter Twenty-Four

Aden followed the trolley and the staff that pushed it helplessly through the hospital corridors, not really knowing where his feet were taking him. Fatigue and worry clouding his vision and ability to think straight. This was it, this was the moment they had waited so long for and yet now it was here the excitement he should have felt was unavoidably tinged with fear and dread. Possible outcomes spun around and around his head each one worse than the last. He pulled at the ill-fitting hospital scrubs he now wore, trying in vain to pull the top down far enough to cover his stomach. The coarse fabric irritating his skin with every move he made. Before he knew what was happening they had reached their destination, the brightly lit theatre filled with instruments and equipment that gleamed under the harsh lighting. As he looked nervously about him he saw doctors and nurses he did not recognise bustling around a tiny incubator readying their equipment for their baby’s imminent arrival. Miniature medical paraphernalia covered the surfaces, shining silver against the dark material covering everything in sight, including a terrified Belle. She had been so very strong, coped so well in the face of everything. He was in awe of her, totally and completely in awe of her. His eyes met hers across the room, each filled with fear, fear of what lay ahead, not only in the immediate minutes but the hours, days, years that would follow. He went to her without thinking, pulling the stool left for him as close to the bed as possible, one hand smoothing her hair, the other inextricably entwined with hers as amid the beeping machinery and various voices they waited together, drawing strength from one another as the doctor carefully made the incision.

It was the strangest sensation Belle had ever felt. Not painful as such, the epidural had made certain she had no feeling whatsoever in the lower half of her body. It was an odd pulling, pushing sensation, there was no other way to really describe it, feeling as if that part of her body didn’t truly belong to her anymore. Dark, heavy material hung in front of her, obscuring her view, her only window to the action the changing reactions taking place on Aden’s face as he peered carefully over and around the partition at regular intervals after much gentle persuasion from her. Each time his eyes grew wide, his face a shade paler and the pulse throbbing in his wrist a little quicker as he gratefully returned to a seating position. Part of her longed to see, though with the response of Aden fresh in her mind she wasn’t sure she’d cope with it all too well. With a sudden, harder tug on the opposite side of the partition came the words they had longed to hear, their baby was out, their baby had finally entered the world.

She watched as Aden’s face lit up, a smile beaming from ear to ear as he leant forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead, murmuring into her unkempt hair that she’d done it, that it was over, that their baby was here, finally here. A doctor then commanded their attention and as Aden pulled gently away from her they saw what they had been waiting months to see. For ten wonderful seconds Belle saw the most incredible sight she had ever seen. An unbelievably tiny baby was held up over the barrier, still curled into a ball,

‘You have a daughter, a beautiful baby girl. Congratulations’

A daughter, they had a daughter. A precious baby girl with a perfect heart-shaped face and minute wisps of dark hair, ten fingers and ten toes. She looked like a doll, a tiny, unbelievably beautiful doll and then she was gone. But Belle couldn’t relax, not yet. She hadn’t heard her cry; a whimper, no sound at all and the silence seemed deafening. Why hadn’t she made a noise? Something was wrong. She grasped the coarse fabric of Aden’s top with her fingers, looking wildly from him to the doctors wanting to know answers, screaming to know what was wrong with her daughter. Their baby girl was whipped away by a team of neonatal doctors and nurses and Belle craned her neck to see them rush to the other side of the room. Aden grasped her hands again, both of them shaking uncontrollably with fear, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d done the hard part. This bit was supposed to be the beautiful reward, being handed your baby to hold for the very first time, not having them snatched away by a team of doctors, left only to wait anxiously just to hear her cry.

Aden blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears that threatened to cloud his vision at bay. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the scene that played out in front of him, like a bad dream that he couldn’t wake up from. Their beautiful baby girl was being pulled around, prodded and poked with various medical instruments and equipments, her tiny body appearing so very fragile in their hands. He wanted to shout at them to stop, wanting them to hold her carefully and tenderly as he wanted to, not throwing around so very roughly as they encouraged her breathe on her own. From the other side of the room he willed his baby girl to take that first breath, as he held his own. Then the most beautiful sound in the entire world reached his ears, as their precious daughter let out a faint, feeble cry. Relief flooded his body as tears flooded his eyes. She was still hanging in there, still there with them and as he thanked a God he wasn’t certain he believed in he prayed she always would be.

[Clair 247]

You guys really are all too kind! What else can I say but thankyou so much for all your comments! They are always so encouraging, thankyou! I'm a little sad to see this story end too! I think there will be just one chapter after this one, possibly two, we'll see! Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Belle sat awkwardly in the uncomfortable wheelchair she was currently being pushed along in. She fiddled nervously with the worn, faux leather armrest, picking away at the covering to reveal the cheap foam padding underneath. Realising that she was now destroying hospital property she forced herself to drag her hands away to rest listlessly in her lap. They had reached the door of the neo-natal intensive care unit and although she longed to see her baby girl she wasn’t sure she was prepared for what was beyond that door. After having the caesarean section she had been sent to recovery, separated from both Aden and their daughter as she had insisted that Aden stay with their baby girl instead, adamant she needed him more but lying in that recovery suite alone she had almost regretted her selfless choice. All she wanted was to see her baby, hold her beautiful baby girl and being unable to do so was just too hard. Tears had flowed freely down her cheeks as she led alone, the memories of the traumatic birth haunting her drug-induced dreams. It wasn’t until a dishevelled Aden arrived, taken her hands in his and said simply how beautiful their daughter was and how well she was responding to the treatment that she was being given that she felt her body relax. They had cried tears of joy together as suddenly hope for the future appeared on the horizon. As Aden reiterated how very proud he was of her, how brave she had been, their baby girl was following suit he said, proving to be as strong and brave as her mother had been, every inch a fighter.

They were still on the outside of the door, hadn’t moved any further. Belle swallowed, trying to brace herself for what lay in wait for her on the other side. It would be the first time she had seen her baby girl since the brief ten seconds immediately after her birth. Aden had been in numerous times since but until now she had been too drowsy; too dopey from the painkillers they had been pumping her with. After being afraid that she would never get here while still taking them she had requested that she try milder medications, which perhaps took the edge off but very little else. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, wincing a little as she sat a little straighter preparing for what was to come. A warm, comforting hand slid onto her shoulder, working its way to her neck, his thumb rubbing away her nerves. He was here with her; she didn’t have to face it alone. She raised her own hand to his, pulling it to her lips to brush a kiss across the back of his hand. She was ready, she was finally ready to meet her little girl.

As she was pushed through the door the heat from the room threatened to overwhelm her. It was brightly lit, the walls painted a sunny, if slightly off-putting yellow. The room was a hive of activity as nurses busied themselves about various tiny beds and incubators, careful to work around the ever-present parents stationed at each one. Machinery was as far as the eye could see, flashing and beeping noisily as they monitored each child’s every breath, heartbeat and temperature. Aden wheeled her as quietly as the old wheelchair would allow past many plastic cribs and incubators before stopping beside the one right at the very end of the row, nestled in the corner of the room. There she was, their precious daughter hidden deep within the incubator, cuddled into soft, brightly patterned blankets, she was just so very tiny. She had weighed just a little over five pounds at birth; she looked like a tiny china doll, too fragile to touch for fear of breaking her. Her lungs had not been mature enough to support her and although she had now received a steroid treatment she currently needed oxygen support, though it was hoped that she would be weaned off this in a matter of days. Wires, sensors and leads were everywhere Belle looked, weaving a web around their precious daughter. She had tubes taped across her little face, feeding into her nose, providing the life-giving oxygen. She longed to touch her, raising her fingers to the plastic, caressing it lovingly, the closest she could get to her child for now.

She was perfect; there was no other word. Perfect in every way. He had seen her a handful of times already but it never got old, certain she changed a little each time he saw her. He imagined that it never would, that he would never grow tired of simply looking at their daughter, his precious baby girl. He was a father, a father at last, and while it had once been such a frightening prospect he was unashamedly revelling in it. Sure, it hadn’t been easy, still wasn’t easy but he was confident that she would pull through, she was part of them after all, quite possibly the most stubborn people he had ever known. As he watched Belle lovingly touch the incubator that was keeping their baby girl safe he ran a finger over the nametag stuck to the front of it, tracing the letters of her name, Zoie Bella Jeffries. It suited her; she was unmistakably a Zoie, their precious Zoie.

He remembered how often they had argued over names, how until her birth they had been undecided. He had preferred much more mainstream names, names that were popular but traditional, whereas Belle wanted something unique, something would stand out in the crowd. They had bickered back and forth for weeks before coming up with a short-list that they both grudgingly agreed to. Zoie had been written on it, Belle adding an extra ‘i’ for individuality, which he had reluctantly agreed to. Although he had to admit it did add a little extra something, and their baby girl was extra special after all. They had settled on Zoie for its meaning in the end though, finding comfort after realising it meant ‘life’, something that had been so nearly taken from them. While Zoie had perhaps been Belle’s idea, her middle name was all his. Adamant that she should bear her mother’s name somehow he added the ‘a’ from his own to create ‘Bella’, simply meaning beautiful, and she was. She had a small amount of wispy, dark hair and very faint eyebrows. Her face was shaped perfectly; she had her mother’s brow and nose, her full lips and little ears, although he had to admit her long limbs probably came from him. She was quite simply the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

As Belle fingered the incubator encasing their precious baby girl she became aware of another hand gently patting her on shoulder. She turned around to see a smiling, friendly nurse that asked her if she would like to actually touch Zoie. Although she couldn’t be held just now, it would be perfectly all right for them to open one of the tiny circular doors in the side of the incubator to hold her hand. Belle wasn’t quite sure what to say, she hadn’t imagined that they would have been allowed to do that. Of course she wanted to touch her tiny daughter, she had thought of nothing else since her birth at 4:22am the previous morning. She beamed at the nurse, nodding enthusiastically, certain that if she tried to talk the emotion of the moment would choke her. She looked across to Aden, his own eyes shining at the prospect of being able to actually touch his baby girl. After thoroughly cleansing their hands with the provided alcohol gel the nurse carefully opened the round door inviting them to cautiously place their hands inside, careful to avoid the various wires, sensors and plastic tubing that surrounded their daughter. After placing her hand inside Belle’s hand shook as it neared Zoie’s, her hand so very, very tiny. She gently wiggled her own baby finger into her daughter’s palm, breathing in sharply when she grasped it tightly in her tiny hand.

Hope you liked her name! Sorry it wasn't Adelle or Morag!

[Clair 247]

Here we are guys, final chapter! I can't quite believe it's finished! Just wanted to say one big, final thankyou to each and everyone of you who have commented so beautifully after posting each chapter. I cannot say how much an encouragement and inspiration your words are, they really do mean so much, thankyou. Thankyou for sticking with this story, I hope you enjoy this final chapter too! So for the last time, here we go!

Chapter Twenty-Six

Aden stretched out across the bed, revelling in the sight next to him. His girls were home, both of them right beside him and he never wanted them to be further away than this. He didn’t care that it was impractical and unnecessary but right now all he wanted was to have his precious girls as close to him as he could possibly get them. There was surely nothing in all the world better than this, no better feeling than having the woman you love lay next to you in bed, your baby daughter nestling in her arms. It didn’t matter that he and Belle had barely slept last night, too busy listening to every breath their daughter made, tensing if she snuffled, coughed or shifted position a little. It had been their first night as a family, the first night Zoie had spent at home with them after living the first eight days of her life in the NICU on oxygen support before finally being well enough to come home. Aden had never driven so slowly in his life, never been so aware of the lunatics that were on the roads, braking unnecesarily constantly and infuriating Belle in the process who simply wanted to get their daughter home. No, it honestly didn’t matter that they were currently ridiculously sleep-deprived nothing could possibly dent this high.

He rolled over a little further, running a hand down Belle’s face before letting it settle on his daughter’s feet, grasping them gently in his fingers, so very, very small. The doctors had been pleased with her progress, impressed with her weight gain and although she was a little bigger than she had been when she was born Aden was sure he had never seen a baby quite so small or indeed quite so beautiful as their daughter. She could stay awake all night tonight as well and he wouldn’t mind, having her here with them was just too good to miss. He sighed with relief that he would not be taken from them either, having been found guilty of kidnapping but not of the attempted murder of his father. He had been sentenced to one hundred hours of community service but it seemed like a small price to pay. It bothered him a little that he should be serving a punishment like this so soon after the birth of his daughter, worried that it was a poor example to be setting her. He wanted everything for her, wanted her to be all she could be and never have to suffer in the way he had. His father had loved him he knew, he had shown that in the testimony he gave in court but he hadn’t been there to protect him when he’d needed him most, languishing at the bottom of bottle too scarred by the same abusive man to act. He was adamant that Zoie would never feel that way, that she would never wonder where her father was or why he wasn’t there. As soon as she had been held over the partition in that theatre he knew he would have laid down his life if it meant saving hers. That was how she made him feel, that he could be a better man than he was, a better father than he had, just better, better all round. She was a beautiful beginning to a new life he intended to throw himself into with everything he had, this time maybe he could get it right.

As he ran his hand across her little feet and up her legs, Belle shifted position slightly, saying as she did so that she was going to quickly jump in the shower before Zoie wanted another feed. She slid her arms under their daughter and gently lifted her over, placing her carefully in the crook of his arm. She pressed a kiss on her forehead before doing the same on his own before manoeuvring herself awkwardly off the bed. Zoie opened her eyes slowly, indignant at being removed from the warmth of her mother. Aden ran his fingers across her soft, downy hair and down the side of her face, she really was just so perfect, so very beautiful. Her hands rose at his touch, clinging to the edge of his own hand. He took her tiny hand between his fingers, marvelling at her minute fingernails, each one perfectly formed. How in the world had something so perfect, so very delicate have come from him? She thankfully took after her mother in his opinion, as she closed her eyes again, the length and curl of her eyelashes all the more prominent. He sighed, he was going to have to lock her up when she was older, no doubt about it. No man on earth would ever be good enough to go anywhere near his baby girl. She snuffled in response, turning her head towards him as she attempted to burrow into him, getting as close to him as she possibly could. His heart melted, so full of love and pride for his precious daughter. He lifted her carefully onto his bare chest, letting her settle into position before holding her there as they both closed their eyes, finding complete peace in the nearness of the other.

Belle stood under the steady flow of water, revelling in its warmth as it washed away the dirt of the day. She rubbed the sweet smelling shampoo into her hair vigorously, scraping it away from her face as she did so. She ran her hands over her body as she stood under the shower head to rinse, using the bubbles to clean her skin also. Her hands came to rest on the scar that ran across her considerably flatter stomach. Her fingers traced the incision as she remembered with vivid detail the night of Zoie’s birth and the days that followed. Yes, she had a scarring reminder instead of the natural birth she had envisaged but truly it was the result that counted. Without that operation Zoie might not have even survived, might not be currently cradled in her father’s arms. Any amount of pain or suffering was worth it to simply look into her daughter’s eyes, hold her in her arms as she fell asleep. Those moments were precious, priceless, they simply had no earthly value. She would have done whatever it took to get their daughter safely into their arms, it was as simple as that. As Belle slowly opened the door to her room she was reminded again how it had all been worth it, the scene in front of her showing her just how much she could have lost. Careful not to wake her sleeping family she crept quietly into the room, settling herself gently on the bed to face the mirror.

Belle ran a brush through her wet hair, pausing to negotiate the inevitable tangles. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror in front of her, she looked happy, that was her verdict, she looked well and happy. Her face still slightly rounded from the pregnancy, her cheeks tinged pink by her hot shower. Looking beyond herself in the mirror she saw the two reasons for her happiness. She stopped brushing her hair to just stare at them, get lost in them, both so very, very beautiful. Aden lay flat on his back, his eyes shut and the ghost of a smile still gracing his lips. His hair was tousled; sticking up in places she was sure it shouldn’t have been, fair stubble working its way across his jaw line. On his bare chest lay their baby daughter, sleeping peacefully, her little nappy covered bottom stuck up firmly in the air. Her dark, wispy hair curled at the nape of her neck, a sharp contrast to the white sleep suit she wore. Belle smiled realising immediately which one she was wearing, the one Aden had brought home the day after discovering her pregnancy, the one emblazoned with the words ‘my daddy loves me’. How true those words were. Her daddy adored her, already unashamedly wrapped around her tiny, baby finger. She looked so much like him too, although he wouldn’t believe a word of it. Her eyes exact replicas of her father’s in both shape and shade, both the brightest blue, the colour of the ocean glistening in the sunlight. Belle ran her free hand gently across his bare foot, making him flinch slightly, his face screwing up a little, as his left hand rose to rub his nose sleepily. In perfect unison the baby girl lying on his chest flinched at her father’s movements, screwing her face up a little and wrinkling her tiny nose, an exact impersonation of her daddy. She snuffled a little before burying her head a little further into her father chest, as she snuggled back to sleep.

Aden blearily opened his eyes, blinking furiously to clear his sleep-induced blurry vision. He stretched a little, careful to avoid too much movement, conscious of his baby girl still sleeping soundly on his chest. He turned his head a little to gaze at the reflection in the mirror across the room, watching Belle as she ran a brush through her tangled hair. She was stunning; it was clear where Zoie got her beauty. Her hair hung loosely over her tanned shoulders. This was it; it truly did not get any better than this. This was what he wanted, now and forever, for the three of them to be together, to be a proper family. It was what life was all about. He wanted that, he needed that.

In the mirror she saw him slowly come round, getting his bearings, all the time careful not to wake the sleeping bundle on his chest. He caught her eye and smiled, a smile that seemed to say so very much. She smiled in response, running her hand up his leg as she did so, hoping that it conveyed the same message. Wanting to tell him how much she loved him, how much she needed him, how thankful she was that he was here and how a great a father to their daughter he was being. He seemed to respond to her with his eyes, no words necessary as his look relayed that he understood. She glanced again at herself in the mirror running the brush through her hair just once more.

‘Belle. Sweetheart, I love you. Will you marry me?’

The hand holding the brush went limp, causing it to fall to the floor with a dull thud as she stared at his reflection, her mouth dropping open a little in shock. Blinking, she looked intently at his mirror image tilting her head slightly in a questioning manner, not certain that she had heard him correctly. He smiled that trademark grin, nodding as he did so, confirming her suspicions as he repeated the question once more. The words resounded in her head, amplified as she turned them over in her mind. She twisted round and getting to her knees crawled the length of the bed, pausing to run a hand over their daughter’s sleeping form as she did so. Now level with his face she leant down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, breathing the only words she could say,

‘Yes, yes. Always yes. Yes Aden, yes’

THE END

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