First Crush, My Forever

Chapter 135

  The room is quieter now.

  Not empty. Just settled. Like the chaos has burned itself out and left something soft behind. The lights are dim. The monitors have been turned down low enough that they fade into the background.

  A nurse comes in quietly and glances at Grayson, then at me.. "He's rooting," she says gently. "Looks like he's ready to eat."

  I glance down and notice it. The way his mouth moves. The small restless sounds. The tiny turn of his head against my chest.

  "Oh," I whisper. "Already."

  Taytum stands immediately. "What do you need?"

  The nurse smiles. "I'll help." She adjusts the bed slightly, and adds pillows under my arms. Taytum steps closer, one hand hovering like she is afraid to do something wrong.

  "Can I," she asks softly, wanting to watch.

  "Yes," I say. I want her close for this.

  Grayson fusses a little as I reposition him, his cry small and indignant. My hands shake more than I expect. I suddenly feel exposed in a way I did not during labor.

  "You're okay," Taytum murmurs. "He's got you."

  The nurse guides gently, explaining in a calm voice, helping me latch him properly. There is a moment of confusion, then a strange tugging sensation that makes me gasp softly.

  "Oh," I say again. And then it settles.

  Grayson latches and the room goes very quiet. His body relaxes almost instantly. His small hand curls against my skin. The pull is strong, instinctive, grounding in a way I was not prepared for. Tears slide down my temples without warning. Taytum notices immediately. "Hey," she whispers.

  "I'm okay," I say, voice thick. "It just feels... big."

  She nods like she understands completely. She crouches beside the bed, eyes locked on him. "You're feeding our son." That does something to me.

  Grayson makes small content sounds as he eats. His jaw moves steadily. His breathing evens out. I cannot stop watching him. Cannot stop touching his back, his hair, his shoulder.

  "He knows," Taytum says quietly. "He knows you."

  I nod. "I feel it."

  Time stretches again. The nurse checks on us, then leaves us alone.

  Eventually Grayson slows, his suckling growing lazy. His eyes flutter closed. I burp him carefully, holding him upright against my shoulder. He lets out a tiny burp that makes Taytum laugh softly.

  "There he is," she whispers.

  I smile, exhausted and full all at once.

  With Grayson asleep against my chest, his weight warm and real, his breathing a tiny rhythm I cannot stop listening to. Every breath feels like proof.

  I keep one hand flat on his back, fingers spread, feeling the rise and fall. I do not trust the world yet without touch. I am not ready to believe he stays if I let go.

  My body aches in places I cannot name properly. My legs feel heavy. My abdomen throbs with a deep soreness that reminds me of what I just did. But none of that matters. I would sit like this forever if they let me.

  Taytum is in the chair beside the bed, leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, eyes locked on us like she might miss something if she blinks. Her hair is messy. Her shirt is wrinkled. There is a faint smear of something dark on her sleeve that I am pretty sure is my blood.