Summary: It takes hours of tears and pain and a particularly touching scene between his husband and child for Jack to realize just how stupid he actually is
Jack's POV
At some point in the past nine months, I had begun to believe that nothing could, would, ever hurt more than the thought of losing him.
Nothing in this world would be able to compare to the soul-crushing idea that he wouldn't be at my side when I woke up the next morning.
My husband, he would be gone when I opened my eyes.
The love of my life. My everything. My Goddamn soulmate.
My Corbyn.
It was within that same nine month period that I was reminded I was a fucking idiot.
That reminder came only an hour after my water broke, which was ten minutes after the contractions started.
It came while Corbyn was rushing me to the hospital, chasing after me when the staff wheeled me to the delivery room.
It was so fucking unbearable I thought I was gonna die. It was like being split in half, slowly.
When I felt I was gonna black-out, my world seeming to shrink until only a thin tunnel remained, I wailed his name. Begging him to come to me.
I would never understand how people belittled and insulted and slandered and hated their partners during a time like this when all I wanted was for my Corbyn to hold me.
To kiss me and promise it would get better.
To love me and make it stop.
When he did come, he stayed.
He grab my hand when I searched, even when I knew my grip must be painful.
He whispered to me when I screamed, even when I knew I couldn't hear.
He kissed me when I cried, even when I knew it wouldn't make the tears stop.
Even if nothing he was doing could truly put an end to my suffering, just knowing he was with me kept my heart from aching.
Knowing he was still here, that I had been wrong that day on the bathroom floor.
God, I had never been happier to be wrong.
7 hours.
7 hours of agony I had never thought was possible.
7 hours of howling to the ceiling.
7 hours of being fucking ripped open and my wails stopped, only for a new set to start up.
Shakier than mine, higher in pitch than mine.
I barely had the strength to hold Corbyn's hand, feeling the weakest I ever had in my entire life.
I whimpered the very second Corbyn tried to step away, opening my mouth to beg him not to, only for my husband to kiss me quiet.
" I just wanna check on them."
Them?
Who-
Oh, right. We had kept the gender a secret.
" I'll be right back, I promise you I will. Just let me check on the baby, love."
I let him go, trusting him.
Corbyn would never break a promise to me.
And, just like he said, he came back not even ten minutes later with full arms and glistening eyes.
YOU ARE READING
What If?// More WDW BxB: Corbyn-Shots
RomanceThis is a part two to another one-shot book with the same themes and name. I'm back on my bullshit. You read the title. You know the drill. Let's do this! PS: Requests are not taken, but they once were
