The Family Origin

Chapter Sixty-Four: MAISIE POV

Being pregnant and managing my chores was even more difficult now that I also had a baby to care for too. Clara never gave me advice on how to care for multiple babies. I struggled to manage all of it, especially as my stomach grew larger. By the time we finished eating dinner, I was completely exhausted. Miles began letting me go upstairs to rest once I had finished washing the dishes. Leaning my aching back against the pillows and raising my swollen feet would feel like heaven at the end of the day.

Joseph always insisted on holding Jasper after dinner. He had never mentioned leaving the house again, but he always seemed to look at us with a somber expression. Did he realize what he had said was absurd? How could he want to tear me away from my family?

I ran my hands over my stomach when I felt the small flutters of my baby kicking. Feeling the movements always lightened the heavy weight of worry that had been lingering in my chest since I realized I was pregnant. Briar's face would flash in my mind each time I imagined holding my new baby.

When Miles came into our bedroom, he had Jasper in his arms. Despite how much he had grown over the past year and a half, he still looked tiny in Miles's large arms. Miles set him down in the crib before sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were cold when he placed them on my stomach and the smell of smoke clung to his clothes. He must have been outside by a fire.

His lips spread into a smile when he felt our baby's movements. I loved watching his emotionless mask break into an expression of happiness. It only ever happened with me and our children. I focused on his joy as he ran his hands over my stomach. The silence did not feel heavy or tense as I watched him enjoy the movements.

"I think he will be born any day," I said.

"He?" Miles asked, not raising his gaze from my stomach.

"I keep imagining a boy," I said. "I think it would be good for Jasper to have a brother."

The family I was born into was not close, except for my older brothers. They were the closest in age, but they also spent most of their time together. My sister never wanted to spend time with me like the way our brothers did. After our parents died, the two of them left together. They did not need that terrible family.

"I never had a brother," Miles said.

There was a cold edge to his words, but the smile did not waver. The combination was a bizarre mix, but at least he still seemed happy.

"A brother would have been nice," he said. "My sisters were too weak to survive."

I bit down on my lip. Miles never mentioned his sisters. The few times Joseph said Emily or Victoria's names, Miles would snap and force us to change the conversation.

"Maybe that's what happened to Briar," he said.

His voice was not soft like he was lost in his thoughts. Instead, his voice was cold and serious. The smile disappeared. A lump was beginning to form in my throat. His brief happiness always disappeared so quickly.

"Jasper has been so healthy," he said. "That is how a baby should be. If you are going to love a child, he should stay strong and healthy."

I was afraid to speak because of this lump in my throat. Would my voice crack? Would I break down into tears again? I needed to keep myself under control, but it became more difficult the more he spoke.

"She was so small," he said. "We should have known that she would have never survived. We loved her knowing she was going to die, and it hurt us."

My chest tightened as I struggled to breathe. I curled my fingers into the blanket underneath me to try and calm myself. Miles never spoke about Briar. If I started crying, would he use the tranquillizer? He had not mentioned it since the night I cried about Joseph telling me he wanted to tear Jasper and me away from Miles.

"I never want to see you hurt like that again," he said. "I will do anything I can to keep you happy."

"I know."

My voice cracked, but there were no tears. Miles looked up from my stomach. His face returned to a blank stare. He was silent as he watched me take a few deep breaths to stop myself from crying. The haunting memory of the sound of Briar's weak cries rang in my ears.

"You are still upset about her," Miles said. "It's been a couple of years, and you are still crying."

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the pillows. Miles stayed quiet as he watched me focus on my breathing.

He was correct. It had been years, but the grief was still heavy in my chest. Her memory haunted me.

"Sometimes, I wish it never happened," I said softly.

"That she never died?" Miles asked.

"No." I gave my head a slight shake while keeping my eyes closed. "Sometimes, I wish she was never born so I would never have to go through with all of the grief. It is so selfish to say, and it makes me feel like a terrible mother, but I sometimes wonder what it would be like if Jasper was our first child."

My eyes opened when Miles placed his palms against my stomach again. The baby's small flutters of movement continued. He looked down and ran his hands to my side. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against my stomach. Surprisingly, my hand did not tremble as I ran my fingers through his dark hair. He let out a deep breath as he enjoyed my touch.

Minutes passed in silence before Miles finally spoke.

"You are a great mother," he said. "You are not selfish for wanting to keep all of us happy."

He raised his head high enough so that he could place a kiss on my stomach. He stood from the edge of the bed and walked over to the crib. Grabbing the edge of the crib, he leaned forward to watch Jasper sleep. The oil lamp provided a warm glow, but I could see his knuckles turning white from his tight grip on the crib.

The floor creaked as I listened to Joseph walk down the hallway to his bedroom. I watched Miles stare into the crib for what felt like hours. I did not beg him to come to bed until my eyes were heavy with exhaustion.

I never questioned him about whatever worries were spiralling in his mind as he stared at our son.