Page 92 of Claimed By Ruin

Angry.

Perfect.

Miranda wiped him furiously. “Strong cry.”

“That’s good, right?” I said, unable to tear my eyes from them but not having any idea what to actually do.

“It is,” she said, but she didn’t look at me. She was busy doing something to the baby.

“What are you doing to him?”

“Jack…” Asia said, her voice breathy but still exasperated.

But Miranda just smiled. “I’m giving him a good once-over, but I’m an OB not a pediatrician, so as soon as you cut the cord, I’ll hand him to Lourdes and check on Asia.”

“Cut the cord?” I said.

“Yes, unless you’d rather not,” she responded.

“These right?” I said, nodding towards the scissors on the tiny metal tray she had beside her.

“Yup,” she said as she handed me the scissors and pointed at a plastic clamp I’d somehow missed. “Cut right underneath.”

I cleared my throat and reached out, hand trembling, emotion so intense I didn’t feel like my body could contain it.

I snipped the cord, then looked at the baby’s face—my baby’s face—and couldn’t stop myself from smiling as he yawned, clearly over the whole affair.

Miranda nodded. “Good job.” Then she handed the baby to Lourdes. “Now go hold Asia’s hand. We’ve got a few more contractions to get through.”

Asia’s eyes were closed, her hair frizzed around her sweaty forehead.

I’d never loved her more.

Jack

“Isn’t he beautiful?”

“He is.” I looked at Asia, who stared at our son.

He stared back at her. His dark, dark eyes. Knowing. And it had only been minutes. But this was my birth as much as it was his. How fucking cliche. But one look at him and whoever I was, whoever I hoped to be, was gone. There was this now. Him. Us.

“What should I do?” I asked Miranda.

“We’ve taken care of the afterbirth, and there’s no tearing. It’s only been five to ten minutes, but he’ll want to eat soon,” she said.

“What should I do?” I repeated.

Miranda just smiled and patted me on the shoulder.

He started to squirm, and let out a tiny little cry. This one wasn’t as loud, as ferocious as the first, but I couldn’t help but stare at him, alarm coursing through me.

“It’s fine, Jack,” Asia said softly. She still smiled down at him. Then shifted. Started to feed him.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” I said softly.

“I’m faking it,” she responded, not tearing her eyes off him.

“So what happens next?” I asked Miranda. I was still looking at Asia, but needed to know.