”It was a rough night. But it didn’t even matter now because your baby, your daughter, was in your arms. Healthy and perfect and sleeping peacefully against your chest. There was lull in the doctors and nurses constantly coming and going. Now, the curtains were open on the mid-morning sun and it was just the two of you, together, how it was supposed to be.
But you couldn’t help, as you rubbed your daughter’s back and stared down at her squishy little face, what Colt was doing right then.
Was he still sleeping? Was physical therapy going well? Was he back on set somewhere, doing what he did best? Had he forgotten all about you and the time that the two of you shared? The more you thought about him the more guilt gnawed at your ribcage. Then with the guilt came rage.
He changed his number, for God’s sake. He didn’t want to be found. And that was fine by you. You could do this all on your own. You didn’t need him. Your daughter didn’t need him.
A tear slipped down your cheek. One that you didn’t even really understand as someone knocked on your door.
You sniffed back the coming onslaught of emotion as you sat up straighter in bed. “Come in!”
Jody rounded the privacy curtain with a large, excited smile plastered on her face. Balloons and a stuffed animal in hand. She cooed when she caught sight of the bundle on your chest, setting down her things as she came to your bedside.
“There is my precious little god-daughter! Oh my goodness!” she spoke in a hushed voice as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
“You wanna hold her?” you asked, adjusting the infant so she was now held in two hands.
She gasped elatedly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.” You smiled as you handed her off into Jody’s awaiting arms. “You’re the closest thing to family.”
She adjusted the weight of the baby in her arms before grinning at you. “What’s her name?”
“Riley.”
“I distinctly remember a certain stuntman who shall not be named playing a character named Riley once.” Jody gave you a look. “Maybe when you first met?”
“I told you specifically not to mention that…Certain someone,” you replied, guilt and rage roaring up inside you, as well as embarrassment.”
Yippie! I say, yippie-ingly, as I cry and write at the same time.