The Unexpected Angel (Sequel to Be My Mistake)

A million ways to kill Payne

The sound of crying stirs me from my peaceful sleep. Or maybe it was the fact that Hunter takes his arms away from my waist, and swings himself out of bed. I slowly open my eyes, watching as he stumbles to Alana’s basinet at the foot of our mattress, cautiously picking her up.

“Shhh, angel, don’t wake mommy up.” He whispers, holding her against his bare chest.

I lay still, not wanting him to know that in fact, I was awake. She began to cry even louder, and I decided that was my cue to chime in. I sit up, stretch tiredly, and watch as Hunter gives me a sympathetic smile through the dark.

“I’m sorry.” He says, finally getting her to calm down a bit.

I grin tiredly, shaking my head at him. “Don’t worry about it. You change her diaper, I’ll make the bottle.” I say, walking to the bedroom door.

I see on the clock that it was four in the morning, and remember that not even four hours ago, we had gotten home. The day after Alana was born, we were released from the hospital, and it just so happened that Hunter didn’t have another show till the end of the month, so he came home with us. We hadn’t gotten home till twelve in the morning though, so I assumed that it threw Alana’s sleeping off schedule somewhat.

I began to mix the formula together with the warm water, the bottom of my feet feeling cold from the bare contact it had with the linoleum floor. When I make my way back upstairs, I hear Hunter singing, in a way to keep the baby from crying too much.

 “Here,” I say, handing the bottle to him.

He gladly takes it, smiling at me. He was better at getting her to calm down then I was, by far. He knew all these little tricks to get her to fall asleep, and was a pro at getting her to burp. I didn’t know how he did it, but I was incapable of doing any of it. Then again, she was only four days old, which meant I had time to figure it out.

When the bottle reaches her mouth, she instantly began to suckle on it, slowly falling back asleep in the process. I watch closely, trying to figure out how he was going to burp her while she was sleeping. He takes the bottle and puts it on the bed, and then holds her against his chest so that her head was over his shoulder. As soon as he began to pat her back gently, she burps perfectly, and was somehow still asleep.

“How do you do it?” I asked him, watching as he lowers the four day old infant into the basinet.

He shrugs his shoulders, slowly pulling a thin cover over her. “I don’t know,” he says.

I smile as he slowly brings me closer to him, happy that there was no longer a huge baby bump keeping distance between us. I lay my head against his bare shoulder, hugging him.

“I miss this,” he whispers, gently rubbing my back.

“Miss what?”

“Being able to hold you close.” He specifies.

“Yeah, me too,” I agree.

We both go and curl back up in the bed, tangling our legs together. His hand rests on my waist, but then slowly slides underneath my tank top, resting on my belly.

“What’re you doing?” I asked him curiously.

His touch leave goose bumps to rise on my skin as he continues to gently feel my belly. “I’m trying to figure out how you’re so tiny already.” He whispers, running his fingers and hand over my bony hip.

“Oh,” I say, not really knowing the answer. “I just am, I guess.” I whisper, shrugging my shoulders.

He kisses my forehead, letting his hand now rest on my lower back. I feel the cool metal of his wedding ring against my skin as he does so. “I love you either way,” he whispers, holding me close.