Cold Hearted

•Bexley•

       {•Unedited•}
                            ~Ida's POV~

          I can't even begin to explain how tired I am of doctors and hospitals. The last two months have been full of doctors appointments and I could now go a life time without going back to a doctor. Thankfully, we're on the way to that.  Santi has been feeling better and has been able to take himself off the pain medication he was given.
     "I wanna go home," I groan, laying back on the examination table. Santi bounces his knees up and down, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. "You should have stayed home," I tell him, knowing he's tired. He stayed up all last night trying to figure out how to put together a dresser for Don. She hasn't been very talkative lately, so when she asked him to do it he jumped on it not knowing what the heck he was doing.
   "No, I want to be here to find out the gender," he says. For someone who was so upset about the pregnancy, he does get excited about things like this. When I told him we would be able to find out the gender you would have thought I gave him the best thing in the world by looking at the smile on his face. I can tell he's happy about it now, but is also too nervous to show it.
    "It's gonna be a boy," I tell him. He shakes his head. He keeps saying how much he wants a girl, so there's a "little me" running around. Personally, I want a boy so I can avoid the sass and diva phases. Either way I'll be happy...but I'd prefer a boy.
     "If it's a boy lord help us," he says, shaking his head at me. He's given the same speech a million times trying to change my mind about wanting a boy, saying that he'd most likely turn out like him, which I don't see as a bad thing as long as he stays out of trouble. "We all see what happened to my dads son."
     "That's you."
     "My point exactly." My doctor comes back in with short women behind him, rolling a computer in front of her. I lay down, having this whole ultrasound thing down already.
     "You're here to find out the gender, correct?" He asks me. I nod, lifting my shirt to expose my stomach. Santi cocks a brow at me, pointing his finger down at me to pull it down. I shake my head, wanting to laugh at the fact that he doesn't know anything about how this works.
    My doctor puts the jell on my lower abdomen, clicking a few buttons on his computer before using the tool to roll it around. I look up at the ceiling, trying to ignore how cold the jell is. Glancing over at Santi, he looks like he's killing my doctor in his head. If he thinks a different man seeing my stomach is bad, he's in for something when I actually give birth.
I can't help but notice my doctors assistant eyeing Santi every few seconds. I can't tell if she's checking him out or just looking. Who am I kidding, of course she's checking him out. That much is obvious just by looking at the smile on her face when she looks back. I'm not jealous, but I'd really like it if she'd look the hell away.
"You the father?" She asks him, making me snap my head in her direction. She isn't gonna try and talk to him now. He nods, not saying anything. "What's your name?"
"Taken," he answers. She snaps her head away, face as red as a tomato.
"Okay," my doctor says loudly to redirect my attention to him. If I'm being honest my pregnancy hormones were kicking in and I was thinking of ways to beat her ass; or at least I'll blame it on the hormones. Looking at the screen, the image moves around. Santi stands up, squinting his eyes so much they're nearly closed. "You see this right here?"
"Yeah," I say, looking directly at what he's fingers are pointing at. Santi nods slowly, not looking so sure of himself before bending down next to me.
"What the hell is he talking about?" He whispers. I chuckle, kissing his cheek. He looks back at the screen looking more confused.
"I see no additional parts, so I think you know what that means," my doctor says, looking over at us with a smile. Santi cocks a brow. Oh gosh I'm having a child with an idiot. "You're having a girl."
"AHA! ITS A GIRL!" He yells, straightening up with his arms straight in the air. The doctor turns and looks at him weirdly while I gesture for him to stop. "We can make a boy later on, don't worry," he tells me with a wink.
"Please stop talking."
•••••••

"Explain to me again why you won't just move in with me," Santi says, moving the sheet so he can lay down next to me. He's been trying to get me to love in with him for the past three months and every time my answer has been, and still remains, no. I do spend most nights here, but I'm still nervous to take that step. But I'm ridiculous for thinking that when I'm literally pregnant.
"Because it can ruin our relationship and I don't want that to happen," I tell him. He throw his arm gently over my roundish stomach. When I first started to gain the weight I had a hard time accepting it because my body had never looked like this; I've always had a petite figure, so seeing something else was something to get used to.
"But it would be easier," he tells me. "You're starting your classes soon and wouldn't it be easier if you could just come straight here? Plus, we don't want to keep bringing the baby back and forth. Plus, I even built a crib for the other room," he says. At least now he's reasons are better than "we can have more sex." People say sex is something you want when you're pregnant, but it's been the last thing I want. If he sometimes even touches my arm I start to get irritated.
"You have a point," I say, "so I'll think about it some more." He smiles, kissing my shoulder. I move my shoulder away, turning onto my side. His arm falls from my stomach.
"You know, this whole I can't touch you thing is really starting to bug me," he says. I turn back into my back with a cocked brow. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad or like I'm making this about me, but I'm just being honest with you.
"You wanna have sex then?" I ask with little emotion in my voice. His eyes widen. It sounds cliche but I don't understand how he could even want to touch me with how I look; I'm a freaking cow.
"I-I mean...yeah, but..." his words trail off, unsure of what to say. I move the sheet off of me and move closer to him. "I don't wanna make you feel like you have to."
"I don't," I tell him. "Sex has just been the last thing I want lately because touching makes my skin crawl. But I'll try, just make it fast."
     I do want him, I just can't stand to be touched. And it's not that I feel I need to please him, but because I feel bad. Plus, it'd be nice to feel somewhat good after feeling gross constantly.
     As soon as his lips meet passionately I start feeling that very familiar feeling twist in my stomach. The irritation is hardly there, maybe because my mind is in the moment for once? His calloused hands cup my face, his tongue tangling with mine. Sitting up, he takes a deep breath while raising his shirt from my body. My face heats up as I become very conscious of the obvious change in my body.
     Some hair falls in front of my face from taking the shirt off. Tugging his boxers down, I feel him rest against my lower stomach. He gropes my swollen breasts in his hands, kneeling them slowly, but roughly. My raise arches off the pain, my mind focused on the pleasure. Him massaging my breasts has never felt this good; maybe pregnancy does have some perks.
      "These are a lot bigger," he says, lips brushing against my hair. I bite down in my lip. He slips a hand between my legs, rubbing my clit teasingly. My grip on his bicep tightens. "You're so wet for me. I thought my touch irritated you, huh?"
    "I-it feels good," I force out, my brows pulling together in pleasure. My heart beats fast in my chest as I feel him position himself at my entrance. My breasts press against his chest as he slowly thrusts inside. Stretching around him, my mouth falls gapped open.
     "Fuck," he sighs, my legs tightening around his muscular torso. The sounds of moans fill the room. His hand roams up my body, wrapping around my throat. His thrusts become hesitant. I wince quietly, glancing up at the ceiling. "Did you cum already?" He asks. I shake my head, getting a small twinge of pain before looking under the sheet. My eyes widen as I immediately lower the sheet again.
    "My water broke," I say quietly with wide eyes. His brows pull together.
    "No," he says. "I'm big, but I'm not big enough to pop your fucking water bag or whatever it's called."
    "I think I would know if my water broke!"
    ••••••
                          ~Santi's POV~

       The sound of whines wake me up in the middle of the night. My eyes immediately find Ida, then go over to the small hospital crib near the door. Getting up, I rub my eyes. Bexley lays squirming on the small mattress. I don't know how people always immediately say that their baby looks like someone; she looks like a baby, not like anyone yet.
      My heart rate picks up as I realize I can't just hand her to a doctor or Ida anymore. I held her for maybe three minutes after changing her for the first time, then panicked, and gave her to Ida. Gently sliding my hands under her, I pick her up carefully. It feels like I'm holding the most delicate, valuable thing in the world.
      I place her back down on the changing table, unswaddling her from the purple blanket my mom got for her. Checking to see if her diaper is dirty it's clean, and checking to see if she's hungry, she's refused to eat. Sitting down in the chair, I look down at her. It's crazy how such a simple action can create whole other person.
      Looking at her I've never felt so torn in my life. I know as much as I try I'll never be able to parent her the way she needs. That's not because I don't love her, because just looking at her a few hour later after being born, I know I would do anything in my power to keep her safe. I just don't trust myself to get close after what happened. If I put my own child through that or anything similar I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
       "I love you," I say in a hushed voice, my features softening as I admire my sleeping little girl. She looks so tiny in my arms, making me smile. "More than you'll ever know." I want to be what she needs, and the only way for that to happen is to quite the gang and besides not knowing if that's even possible, I don't know anything else. I wouldn't be able to work a normal good job because of my record, and I make far above the pay of a normal job.
      My eyes tear up as I imagine our relationship years from now. She'll probably end up hating me because I'll never be able to explain my distance in the right way. I just pray that she'll somehow know how much I love and care for her.

     AN: Okay, so this chapter is all over the place because I've decided that the next chapter will be the last! The first chapter of the Fourth Florencio book is up, telling the story of Bexley and Atticus. Please check it out! I really hope you guys enjoyed!
    Question: Are you excited for the new story, Wanted? What would you like to see in that story?
   Please check out my other stories, comment, vote, and share! Believe in yourself -Vaeh