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XIV

It has been a little over a month since I left the group, and Dale is officially four months old. He's started teething now... and he's been doing the cutest little babble whenever I talk to him. It's glorious. And Daryl's missing it. He's missed almost as much time as I did with our baby. He spent the two weeks after I woke up, ignoring me, carrying on with Carol. And then I took Dale, and I don't even know if he's been looking for me. But he's missed this time. And he's never going to get it back. 

As much as I... hate him for ruining us... I can't help but feel guilty. He's the one who ruined us, but I'm the one who walked away. I stole his child from him. If the world hadn't ended, I would probably have been deemed a kidnapper, and an Amber Alert would have been sent out for Dale, and if we had been caught, no matter what had happened with Daryl and Carol, I would have lost my son. 

Before he cheated, I had always thought that the apocalypse was the best thing that happened to me because I go to meet Daryl. But what if it wasn't. What if the apocalypse was just... what was supposed to happen to free me of a life of men? It saved me from Ashton. And now... it has apparently saved me from Daryl. 

"What are we doing today?" I asked quietly, looking up from the babbling baby laying on the floor, to Morgan who was standing at the sink, which he had fixed about a week ago so that it had running water, making breakfast. 

"A few more got caught in the net, so I'll have to move them out. Make sure the area is clear. And then you and I can go look for some baby food. He should be ready to start eating that mushy stuff. If we can't find anything, we may need to start a garden. So we can mash the veggies up." I nodded, staring back down at my baby. 

God I love him. He's perfect. 

"Alright. Well whenever you're done with eating we can go. I'm not really hungry." I said, smiling down at the happy little baby. 

"You need to eat. You weren't hungry for dinner yesterday either. You stop eating, you stop making milk. You stop making milk that's it. You're done, and we have no way to feed that baby. So, you're gonna eat this oatmeal. And you're gonna like it." Morgan said calmly, placing a bowl gently on the floor by my knee, clear of any flailing limbs via baby, but close enough for me to reach. 

"Fine. But I'm not gonna like it." I growled, pouting while I picked up the bowl, and made faces at  Dale while I ate, making him giggle up at me, reaching for my face. 

God, he's perfect. 

Fucking Daryl screwing everything up. 

"Lori! Don't push! Okay? Stop!" Hershel was yelling, his hand pushing the baby so it wouldn't descend further. Lori had been laboring for about four hours before Hershel could feel the baby, and I guess something was wrong, because before he wanted her to push, and now, he didn't and he looked pretty freaked out. 

"What's happening!" Lori cried, but I couldn't look at her, I was staring at Hershel's face. 

"There's a lot of blood Lori. I think... I think you have a placenta previa. That's where the placenta... okay. Your cervix is a balloon, the air inside is your baby, and normally the balloon remains untied, so there's a way for the air to escape. In placenta previa, there's a second balloon, the placenta, which normally is inside the cervix, and lines it. But the openings line up. Except in your case, where it's backwards. The openings aren't lining up, and if you keep pushing, you're gonna rip through the placenta, and you're going to bleed out. So, I need you to stop pushing. We're gonna have to do a C-Section." 

All I could hear were Lori's cries, and I knew that this could be the last time I saw my wife. It doesn't matter that she cheated on me with my best friend. It doesn't matter that we haven't talked much. All that matters is that my wife could die. 

Two Hours Later

My sobs rang in my ears. I was shorter than Carl, I don't remember falling but I was on the floor. I was staring at him, he was holding the baby, and they were both crying. Maggie was standing behind them, and her arms were drenched with blood up to her elbows, and there were tear tracks that had erased the blood splattered on her face. 

I couldn't wait around to see the gender of my baby. I couldn't wait around to comfort my son. I had to see her. I had to get to her. She's my wife. She's my wife. 

She's my wife.

And she's alive.