When She Needs Them Most
: Chapter 37

Briar, Easton, Calder, and Keir stop in before they leave the following day. I get my first and last real chance to talk to the stunning omega, but I’m still not sure if she’s joking about being kidnapped. There’s a certain energy that leads me to believe she’s romantically involved with at least Keir, if not both him and Calder.

We barely get a moment to speak without one of the guys around, but she does assure me she’s fine. She seems tough enough that she would say something if she wasn’t…I think.

The few days after that fly by in a haze of wishing my doctor would have prescribed a small burst of pain meds for me to take at home, leaking boobs, and Luna never sleeping more than two hours at a time.

We have Luna’s first checkup with her pediatrician at their office, and all three guys come along. She has lost six ounces, but the doctor says it’s normal for breastfeeding babies to lose up to ten percent of their birth weight.

The doctor we see is one we haven’t seen before. We saw several in the hospital, but their practice has five or six different physicians. She’s very sweet as she assures me Luna isn’t starving to death before reminding us to document wet and dirty diapers, since it will help us feel confident that she’s getting enough to eat. She also assures me that it won’t harm anything if I’d like to supplement with the occasional bottle of formula.

I know all about nipple confusion, and I’m still not giving up on breastfeeding, but having the guys be able to feed her a bottle here or there should really help with my exhaustion.

They still haven’t been back to work, and it makes me feel guilty, but not bad enough to push them to return to work in the office. Having support is something I didn’t expect, but I don’t think I would have made it through all of this without them.

Kase has Luna strapped to his bare chest as we finish up dinner at the breakfast nook.

Arden gathers plates, carrying them to the sink, and I push my seat back to help.

“Nuh-uh,” Linc says, grabbing my chair and scooting it closer to his. “You’re healing. That means no helping with the chores.”

“I feel like I’ve done nothing but eat and lie around for days.” I snort, resting my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around the back of my chair.

“You also feed the goblin like fifty times a day.” Kase stares down at Luna. “Speaking of which, she might be ready for her next meal. She’s trying to decide why my skin isn’t providing her with milk.” He squints. “And possibly rooting around in search of a nipple. If I could feed you, I would. It just wouldn’t work, little lady.”

Linc’s entire body shakes, and I tilt my head to find he’s silently laughing. “You know they have devices now that allow the dad to simulate feeding the baby. I’ll be happy to buy you one.”

Kase shrugs, running his fingers over Luna’s cheek. “Do it. I’ll give it a try. Skin-on-skin contact is my favorite half hour of the day. I can only imagine what the connection is like knowing you’re able to provide all the nutrients she needs directly from your body.”

I laugh, because Luna is going to be the most spoiled kid in all of existence. She gets skin-on-skin contact with each of us daily. Then again, I doubt it’s possible to spoil a newborn.

“It is pretty amazing,” I agree, stretching over to give Kase a quick kiss. “Let me just visit the bathroom, and I’ll meet you in the living room?”

“Sounds good,” Kase agrees as Lincoln stands, offering me his hands.

One thing I never expected before becoming a mom? That I would choose sleep over a shower an embarrassing number of days in a row until Arden politely runs me a shower before bed.

I’m just in the process of rinsing the conditioner from my hair when a rush of cool air enters the shower.

Arden smiles as he approaches, looking a little dangerous. My arm flies to cover the hanging skin and pooch that aren’t going anywhere in a hurry.

I’ve seen some women bounce back from pregnancy like nothing happened.

I am not one of those women.

“You are stunning.” Arden steps forward into the shower spray. “Please don’t hide from me.”

“I’m gross,” I whisper, my eyes falling shut.

“Not even close,” he murmurs, planting a hand on my ass, pulling me closer to his now-slick front. “You’re healing from a miracle. Honestly, if men gave birth, we’d have mandatory two-week hospital stays with IV pain meds for the entire endeavor.”

I snort as he soothes his hand up and down my spine.

“I’m hoping I start to feel more like myself soon,” I admit.

The fingers of his free hand meet my chin, tilting it until my eyes meet his. “You don’t need to rush yourself on our account.” He brushes his lips over mine. “Are you done cleaning up?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll get out of your way.”

“I’m not showering. I simply found I was anxious to see you and didn’t want to wait any longer.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Arden has such a different energy from Kase or Lincoln, but it’s the perfect vibe to round out our pack…if I could sweet talk him into biting me.

I wake up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming feeling of dread.

Luna is fine when I check on her, but I bring the monitor with me downstairs to the room I first slept in.

The small trunk from Clark sits just inside the doorway. Tossing the monitor on the bed, I step over and pop the hinge lid. My letter is right on top, and I snatch it out before making my way back to sit on the edge of the bed.

My hands shake as I pull the folded sheets of paper free of the envelope.

My name is written in Clark’s handwriting on the flat side of the trifolded papers.

I run my pointer finger over it as my eyes ache.

This sucks so bad.

There’s no relaxation to be had, because I remember this letter exists at the most inopportune moments. It feels like a weight hanging over my head that could fall at any time.

Flipping over the papers, I unfold them.

The first is dated the day Clark broke up with me.

Chels,

I know I hurt you today.

I’m sorry for that.

I doubt I’ll send this, but I needed to apologize, even if you never get to read it. I received some bad news, medically speaking, and there’s no way I can drag you along for the ride.

And that’s the thing. I know you would put your life on hold to take care of me. I love you for it, but that’s not how I want you to spend the next few years. That’s if it’s even worth fighting.

Just know that I’m sorry.

Clark

My shoulders shake, and I toss that sheet of paper aside, frantically trying to get to the next message.

He told me he loved me in a letter he never intended to send?

My heart beats so violently that I can hear my pulse in my ears. The next one is dated a few days after I left the voicemail telling him he was going to be a father.

Chels,

I’ve picked up the phone and put it back down no less than a hundred times today. I want to hear your voice and apologize for the mistakes I’ve made, but I’m afraid that would be the most selfish thing I could do.

The tumor is at grade four, that’s what they told me after my last round of scans. Apparently, other types of cancers have stages, but for brain tumors they go by grades, which is weird because I always pushed myself to get the best grades, and now I have a tumor that’s doing the best job it can to kill me.

Sorry.

I’m bad at jokes. You know this.

I snort, wiping my leaking eyes. He really had a cheesy sense of humor, but I loved that about him.

I got your messages. In my entire life, I’ve never been more torn on what to do.

If I tell you the truth, I’m afraid you’ll focus on caring for me.

We both know you would.

My favorite days were the ones I got to see your smiling face and listen to you laugh when I said something silly. It’s why I bought the dad joke book that I was slowly making my way through.

You’ve always been so vibrant, and I don’t want you to lose that because of me. I know you’re still hurting from the loss of your mom, and I’m worried about what will happen to you if I don’t make it. The chances aren’t good, but I’m fighting.

I daydream sometimes that I’ll be able to come back into your life as the healthy version of me that you remember. Maybe you would even let me back in and not tell me to get lost.

Either way, what I want for you most is to be happy. We both came from small families, and I always dreamed that one day we would build our own. I want you to have the support system we used to talk about building, and that means you have to go out and live your life after me.

Even writing this feels like I’m being unfair, because if you’re reading it, it means I didn’t make it. And God, how I wish I could be at your side for every milestone. But I think it’ll be easier for you to move on if you hate me. Or maybe that’s a lie I’ve told myself because having you watch me wither away is the one thing that feels worse than fighting cancer.

Take care of yourself and the baby. Love them enough for both of us, and remember, I’m always in your corner. Being a parent isn’t about never making mistakes, it’s about doing the best you can.

I wrote out letters for every birthday for a boy and a girl, since I don’t know what we’re having. Give them to the baby all at once when they turn eighteen or every year if you think it’ll help.

That’s my one request. There’s a gift for each year in the trunk too. And the joke book, but that one is for you. If you’re ever sad and missing me, pull it out and read one in my honor.

I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you. I hope your future is as bright as you deserve. And remember, there’s a difference between really living and just enduring.

Do the living part.

If there’s something that comes next, I’ll watch over the two of you.

Love always,

Clark

My entire body vibrates as I cry, but I can’t tell if it’s a physical reaction to the emotional pain or a manifestation of my anger.

I’m fucking furious.

At Clark, for taking my choice away.

At life, for taking him from me.

I’m just so angry. I don’t know if it’s the insane postpartum hormones or maybe I’m just losing it as I rock on the edge of bed with my face buried in my hands.

It’s hard to tell.

He sent a trunk full of gifts for our daughter. You don’t do that if you don’t care, and I’m so heartbroken. Over what we lost. The future that could have been. Even over the pieces of him that I don’t know, so I won’t be able to share them with our daughter.

Luna starts to grunt on the monitor. And I mentally prepare myself to shut off this breakdown and go take care of her.

“Look at you,” Linc says, his voice echoing through the monitor. “Well, that fist isn’t going to give you any milk, but I can hook you up. Let’s change your diaper, and we’ll get you all set up.”

“Oh, love.” Arden’s voice comes from inside the room, and I jolt. He takes a seat at my side, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He doesn’t even need to pull me to his chest.

I face-plant into his bare skin on my own. “I read the letter,” I sob, pointing at the papers flung on the end of the bed. “He sent gifts for Luna… He did care. He wanted to be with us.”

“I wish I could lift you into my lap, but I don’t want to risk injuring your stitches,” he says, kissing my temple. He gently rocks me back and forth as I cry.

“I need to feed her.” I sniffle, wiping my eyes.

“Lincoln has the baby covered,” Arden assures me. “Now, let me look after you.”

I nod against his chest, and he begins to purr.

“Do you feel better, having read the letter?”

“I don’t know.” My head shakes and then nods. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. It is nice to know I wasn’t delusional. He had feelings for me too, and he would have been there if he could have. I cry until it feels like there’s no air left in the room, and at some point, Arden picks me up, setting me sideways across his lap and helping me bury my nose in his throat.

“All right, love,” he says tenderly. “I think it’s time we get you back to bed. I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it.” He stands with me in his arms, careful of my sore, aching lower half, and carries me back to the pack bedroom where Kase is sleeping.

“I have to go to the bathroom before I try to sleep,” I admit. “And my boobs will probably leak if I don’t pump.”

“Would you like me to grab the portable ones? If you fall asleep, I’ll remove them for you and handle refrigerating the milk.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as he puts me on my feet.

There’s no way I would have survived all of this without them, and I’d like to believe Clark sent them to me. At this point, the thought gives me comfort in a way nothing else could.