Neurotic, unlovable, bland. That's how everybody describes Kiara Kade. But truthfully, Kiara is just a confused girl who is blinded by her mothers expectations. A girl that lacks the understanding of friendship and love.
Prince-charming, charismati...
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I was scrambling everywhere. I went to McDonalds about three times today and then to the nearest ice cream parlor about twice. I expected Kiara's pregnancy to be hell, but not hell on me. She wasn't just hungry, she was moody and mean.
She was inspecting the contents in the bag, a nervous sweat broke over me. Please, dear god don't make me go back. Not another time.
"You didn't mess up this time. Bravo." Like I said, mean. "You're almost thirty years old and you couldn't get my fries right."
"Darling, I'm sorry. The instructions, soft but not too soft, isn't that specific. I worked with what I could."
"You're judging me," she spat.
"No baby, I'm not."
"You don't love me," she sniffled. Jesus, now she's crying. "You don't respect my food choices."
I wiped her tears of hanger—hungry angry— away. "I do love you. Just eat your fries, okay?" Kiara nodded. Jeez, she was mean but adorable.
I stayed seated next to her, watching her finish the two large fries. A small smile played on her lips. "You're beautiful," I said.
"I've gotten fat."
"You have a person inside you and you're due in less than a week," I explained, trying to ease her.
"Wrong answer. You're supposed to tell me I'm not fat," she whined out. Fuck me, I fell for that again.
"Kiara," I sighed, leaning on the table. "I love you so much, but you're driving me crazy."
"I'm sorry." Did I hear that right? She was apologizing, while pregnant? "I'm restless. I want this little shit out of me!"
"I know." I sat up, scooting closer to her. "Just one more week and then we have our daughter here." Daughter. I still couldn't believe that. I was going to protect her with my whole being. "We still haven't picked a name."
"I gave a suggestion."
"You gave me a suggestion when you were hungry." Salty Fries didn't contribute as a name.
A nauseating and concerning look came over Kiara. "Let's figure it out later."
"But we don't have time—"
"No shit Emmett. My water definitely just broke." I sat with a smile on my face, then it sunk in. Oh my god. I guess we didn't have a week.
"Fuck!" I roared, helping her up, rushing her down to the car
A baby. My baby. Our baby.
Her contractions must have been really bad because she was squeezing my hand to the point where I heard a crack. I was trying to contain my own tears of pain.
"She's ten centimeters dilated," Doc spoke. "Kiara, you're ready to start pushing."
"I'm okay," she panically breathed. The doc laughed before Kiara actually agreed to do it. Her breathing and groans of pain were concerning and very alarming.
"You're doing great. Keep as is Kiara."
I kissed her sweaty forehead. "It's not too bad," I reassured. That was a big fucking mistake.
"Say that again and I'll rip your dick off." She sounded dead serious. I shut my mouth real quick.
"One push and your daughters here," Doc encourages.
Then crying. The sweet sound of a gurgling and fussy baby. She was wrapped in a white colored soft towel and after a minute, handed to a wore out Kiara.
"She's angelic," Kiara said. "Beautiful."
She was. Even with her bald head and small face, she was the most beautiful thing I'd set my eyes on, besides Kiara of course.
"We made her darling."
"That's a good name."
"Darling?" Hm, a tiny bit unconventional.
"Darlene." Ah.
"That's perfect." I leaned down pressing a kiss to Kiara. "Thank you, for all of this. For giving me a daughter. I can't wait to keep building our family."
"I love you Emmett, but let's focus on the one baby at hand."
I chuckled. "I love you too."
I looked at my beautiful wife and daughter, knowing this is all I'd ever need. Everything I'd ever want.
