Will You Love Me?

Chapter 30

It's been a long hard week, but today was finally the day that Emma got to go home. You and Ben have been with her every single day, not willing to leave her side unless you needed to eat. Nate has been staying at Ben's parents' place for the week with Ben occasionally picking him up to visit Emma. He was home at the moment, as Ben's parents didn't want you to have to stop on the way to pick Nate up.

While Ben was filling out some paperwork, you were getting Emma's things packed. You and Ben had gotten her into pajamas, even though it was the most horrifying, nerve-wracking thing you've had to do. You didn't want to accidentally touch her where it hurt. Luckily, it was all a success.

When you looked over to your daughter, you saw her snuggled up with her lamb, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed. She's been even more tired than usual, but that was because of the pain medication. It might as well have been a tranquilizer because once she takes the pill, she's out like a light.

Ben came back into the room and put his hands on his hips, looking over Emma. "What?" You asked. He hummed in thought, then told you, "I'm trying to figure out the best way to carry her without hurting her. Dr. Levi said to avoid picking her up by her arms or sides..." He bit his bottom lip and furrowed his eyebrows. "I suppose I can put one hand on her back and the other under her legs, but then again..." He started mumbling to himself, so you just went back to packing.

Eventually, Ben thought of an effective way to carry her. You watched as he slowly sat her up, making her whimper a little bit, and then supporting her back with one hand and the back of her legs with the other. He got her up, then gently settled her with her side against his chest. She wiggled around until she was comfortable, then rested her head in the crook of his neck, falling asleep once again.

"There," he said with a sigh if relief, "perfect." You threw your hands up and said, "You can do that from now on, or you're going to have to teach me your ways because I don't want to be the one to hurt her." Ben walked over to you and placed a kiss on your lips. "You won't," he promised.

After checking Emma out and thanking the nurses and doctors, you, Ben, and Emma walked out of that damn hospital. As you were walking, you could have sworn you saw a flash go off in the corner of your eye, but when you turned, no one was there. Opting to ignore it, you continued to walk.

But then it happened again. And again. And the next thing you knew, there were people with cameras coming out from every which way.

"Fucking paparazzi," Ben angrily muttered. "Take my hand." You took his free hand as he quickly led you through the wall that suddenly formed around you. They all kept throwing questions at you, some you really weren't sure how to answer.

Ben knew exactly what to say though. "Please, we just want to get our daughter home, so if you could just move..." They gave you both a little more space, but kept asking the same questions: What's wrong with Emma? Why are you here? What's your next film? Is it true [Y/N] is pregnant again? Where are the other two kids?

This was frustrating Ben to no end. He just wanted to get his daughter home safely. Was that too much to ask?? "Again, I just want to get my little girl home. If you could please respect our privacy, it would mean a lot." He tugged you closer to his side and got you to the car. You got in quickly, but Ben had to be careful. He had to get Emma in a comfortable position in her car seat, but she kept whimpering and whining whenever he moved her.

"Hurts, daddy," she whined. He sighed and carefully picked her up again. "Alright," he told her, "you'll be riding in the front with mummy, then." He passed Emma to you, both of you making sure she was nice and comfortable. When he got into the car, he quickly (yet carefully) sped off and away from the paparazzi.

**

"I don't understand how they could have known," Wanda expressed as you all sat around a fire pit out in the backyard. Ben sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "I do," he glumly answered. "There was this girl I ran into, a fan. She got curious as to why I was there, but I asked her to not say anything. From these pictures my PR has sent me, she clearly took them."

You shifted uneasily in your seat, which didn't go unnoticed by your husband. This was going to be a long night of either a reasonable talk, or a harsh fight. He was praying for the talking. "Either way, I'll get it cleared up soon," he continued. "Nothing a few phone calls can't fix."

He went to put his hand on your leg for comfort, but you got up from your seat and excused yourself before he could. Ben watched as you walked into the house and went into the kitchen. Sighing, he got up and said to his parents, "Excuse me."

"No, no we should be getting on anyways," Tim said, while he and Wanda stood up. They clearly knew what was going to be happening in just a few moments. "We'll be back tomorrow in case you need any help with, Em." Ben really wished they didn't have to go because they could probably prevent a murder from happening if they stayed.

Nevertheless, he sought them out, then painfully made his way into the kitchen. You were cleaning up some dishes, facing away from him. With another sigh, he folded his arms and leaned against the counter across from you.

"Are we going to talk about what's bothering you?" He asked, though he already knew what the problem was. You stopped washing the dishes and turned to face him. You looked pissed.

"Did you seriously just ask what was bothering me, Benedict?" He winced at your use of his name. Without giving him a chance to answer, you said to him, "My daughter is all over the fucking news! She's online, in cheesy magazines, she's trending on twitter! How the fuck do you think I feel?!"

Ben clenched his jaw and tightened his fists. Looks like it will be the harsh fight. "You think I'm not upset by this, too?" He asked. "I don't want the media to get involved with our kids. Christ, that's the last thing I want! But you have to understand that it passes, in time."

You scoffed and shook your head. "You're used to this, Ben. Your face is all over the goddamn world! I don't care about that, that's fine. But this is our daughter, the one who just had open heart surgery! What happens when she's older? What if she's self-conscious about her scar, yet everyone knows she has it, knows what it looks like because some sleezeballs took a picture of it when she was three-years-old?!"

"Jesus christ, that's enough!" Ben shouted. "I'm sorry, darling, but I can't wave my fucking hand and make this all disappear! I don't want Em to be self-conscious, I don't want her to get hurt, but I can't control this! What, do you want me to sue every newspaper, or online company that has those pictures or the story?! I think you would have learned by now that this is what comes to being with me, so stop being so bloody selfish!"

"Selfish," you softly repeated, while nodding your head. "I am being selfish, aren't I? Trying to defend and protect my daughter." Ben rolled his eyes at you. You continued, "Well, then I'm going to be even more selfish and say that I want the bed all to myself tonight. You can sleep on the couch."

Ben gave you a double take, but you were already out of the kitchen and making your way upstairs. After hearing the bedroom door close, he sighed and snatched up his keys from the counter. He didn't leave, but just stood there for a moment, debating whether he should or not. He never wanted to be the husband that left whenever his wife got mad at him.

"Oh, fuck it," he muttered to himself. He quickly made his way to the door, while pulling out his phone and dialing a number.

"Martin," he said, while starting the engine to his car, "fancy meeting me for a drink?"