Chapter Twenty-Two

Dylan

I can’t stop look at him.

At either one of them, really.

Bodhi Alexander O’Neill may only be twenty-hours old, but there was little doubt that boy is loved.

I’ve just woken up from a nap and made my way carefully down the hall. In the living room, Cade sits lounged on the couch, with Bodhi sleeping against his bare chest, in what my midwife called kangaroo care. There is a light swaddling blanket over both of them and while the little boy is sleeping, the big boy is reading something on his phone. I wish I’d grabbed my own phone to capture this picture.

“Hi,” I say instead, breaking the trance. “How is he?”

Cade puts down his phone and looks over the back of the couch at me, a smile on his face.

“He’s good. Starting to move his mouth like he’s eating.”

I nod, continuing my slow trek to the couch. I’m a little bit sore from pushing that nine-pound baby out of my body, but it could be worse. Crystal was shocked when I didn’t need an episiotomy. Otherwise, the hours have been good. Cade is great with the baby; he’s great with me.

Not at all surprising, of course.

My milk came in this morning, and Bodhi’s been feeding every two hours.

And it’s just about that time.

Cade moves so he’s no longer lounging, giving me room on the couch to sit beside them. Carefully, after I unlatch the nursing cup of the camisole I’m wearing, he hands me my son and I can’t help but smile at the scrunched-up face the boy makes. Bodhi is getting ready to scream.

I cradle him in my arms and bring my pinkie toward his mouth. “I know, Bodhi. You were warm and comfy.” I run the tip of my pinkie along his lips until he opens them, rooting at my finger.

When I first thought about breast feeding, the thought of Cade being witness to it embarrassed me.

But then the man watched my vagina spread open far larger than his penis ever did to it, and then also as a baby’s head popped out.

I’m no longer embarrassed about anything, when it comes to Cade. I freely sit next to him right now with one breast engorged and free to the air, as I wait for Bodhi to be ready.

When his suck grows strong against my pinkie, I adjust him so he can drink from me, instead of suckling on my finger.

Bodhi lifts his hand and presses it to the side of my breast and I reach for his fingers, curling them over my index finger.

He’s perfect.

Cade drapes his arm over my shoulders and leans in, pressing his lips to my temple.

“I love you,” he says again, not for the first time today.

Yesterday on the phone, after he first said it, I was too stunned to say it back.

Yesterday, when he said it again after putting Bodhi on my chest, I was too fixated on my son to say it back.

Cade didn’t seem to mind.

But the man deserved to know.

I tear my gaze away from my son and look at the man who helped bring me out of hiding.

Brought me out of the shadows.

Showed me that there were good men, and that he was one of them.

“I love you too.”

Our journey may only be beginning, but I have every faith in Cade Alexander Johnston.

He’s the one who will see the journey to the very end.

 

 

The End

for now…