meant to be yours // heathers au // EDITING

thirteen

Veronica's POV

After Lydia was born, JD shocked me by staying relatively kind. Sure, he hit me occasionally. But it was always because I wasn't taking care of Lydia properly! I deserved to be hit for that, he explained.

After hearing that so many times, I just believed it. He swore that he was only trying to make sure I was a good mother. I wanted to be a good mother, so I accepted that he was trying to help me in his own way. The only way he knew how.

For those first few years after Lydia, we were happy. It was almost like we were a normal family. The key word in that statement being almost.

I still was not allowed to go outside and Lydia wasn't supposed to either. JD didn't trust either of us to not be overwhelmed by the outdoors, he said we would try to leave him. And he wouldn't listen to me tell him that wasn't going to happen.

But like all good things, that time came to an end because of one specific thing. The fact that I was pregnant again, which I expected JD to be happy about. I was so excited to tell him because he loved Lydia and I so much but he wasn't happy at all. He pushed me out of his way and refused to speak about it.

This left me feeling alone in my second pregnancy, a stark contrast to my first. JD didn't talk about name ideas with me, he didn't brush up on the books we had to ensure that we'd take good care of the new baby.

By far the worst part of it was that JD continued to refuse medical care for me. He would not take me to a doctor and insisted that he would deliver this child as he did Lydia.

But he didn't. The day I went into labor, JD didn't come home. He had started to work a long time ago, around Lydia's first birthday as the money he had from his father was dwindling. He always got home around six, but he didn't show that day.

It was up to me to try and find the children's pool that I had Lydia in. When I couldn't, I settled on the floor. I collected every old towel I could find to make sure I wouldn't make a mess.

And with my luck, this labor was a lot longer. The night turned into early morning as I prayed that I would just be ready to push soon. I also prayed that JD would be home before that point in time. Eventually, I started to feel the familiar pressure and knew that I would really have to do this alone.

So I did. Once my second daughter was born, I reached for the barrettes I had close by and repeated what JD did for Lydia. I cut the cord myself and wrapped my baby in a towel, holding her close to me as I cried.

I couldn't focus on how beautiful she was because I was too worried about why JD hadn't come home yet. I really hoped he would be here soon, as I knew I wasn't done. Just because I got the baby out didn't mean I was done. I still had to deliver the placenta as well as get stitches.

Those were things I couldn't do alone or to myself. Right as I was about to fall asleep, too tired to do much else, I heard the front door slam. I listened as JD's footsteps climbed up the stairs and unlocked the door at the end of the hall. He came into our room, expecting to see me asleep. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of me holding our second child.

"Where have you been?" I asked him, my voice wobbly as I had spent hours crying. He rushed up to me and apologized.

"I had to work late." He explained, which was a lie. It was four in the morning and he smelled of perfume and alcohol.

"You reek of liquor." I told him, pulling my legs and daughter close to me.

"Seriously, Veronica?" He asked me in that exasperated voice. He slurred as he spoke.

"You're fucking drunk." I accused. "And you smell like perfume." I added, going further despite knowing it would anger him. He shook his head and snatched our daughter out of my arms. She started to cry the second and was yanked away from me.

"Give her back to me!" I shouted at him.

"No." He told me, sitting the crying baby on our bed. "Now listen, what I do isn't any of your business. If I smell like perfume, then maybe you should put out." He added nastily.

"So you slept with someone else?" I questioned softly, feeling my heart shatter as I did.

"Who cares!?" He screamed at me, causing the baby to cry louder. "God, shut up!" He yelled.

"She can't help it." I reminded him, feeling more sobs bubble up inside my gut. Him not immediately denying something meant that he did it. He fucking cheated on me.

"This is all your fault." He told me with his teeth gritted, fist clenched.

"You're drunk." I repeated. He stalked up to me and shoved my head backwards, smashing it into the wooden floor. When I screamed, he did it it harder.

So I didn't make any more sound as he forced me to pass out, well aware that I'd be inebriated with a concussion for the next few days.

JD's POV

After I had déjà vu from giving Veronica her stitches and cleaning her up, I had expected that feeling to stick as I finally looked at my second daughter. But it vanished the second I laid eyes on her.

She didn't look like Lydia, Veronica or I. She looked like my mother would have looked as a baby, with that white-blonde hair I had seen before in my mother's baby pictures. I decided her name would be Violet, something beautiful enough to fit her.

I didn't let myself cry as I cleaned Violet up, trying not to dwell on her recessive genes. I held Violet as I went into Lydia's room, pulling the bassinet out of there while Lydia slept peacefully. Once it was in Veronica and I's room, I gave Violet a bottle before putting her in the bassinet and letting myself fall asleep.

Violet was already far different than her sister, she slept pretty well even though she was still a baby. I got woken up once between the time I went to bed and the time I usually woke up, which was only because she needed a diaper change. After I checked on Violet, I tried to wake Veronica up.

She wouldn't budge from her concussion, which meant I had to call in to work. I couldn't leave a five year old and newborn without anyone to care for them.

A few hours after I called in, Lydia was awake and popping into the room. She was surprised to see me still here as I was supposed to be working.

"Shh," I told Lydia, who was confused until I got up to show her Violet in the bassinet. I was lucky to have Violet as an excuse for quiet, it's not exactly easy to explain hangovers to a five year old.

"She's tiny." Lydia said, her voice a whisper. It's that kind of whisper kids do, where they aren't really whispering at all.

"Her name is Violet. Mommy had her last night." I said. Lydia looked confused at this. "This is your little sister, Lydie." I added and she understood better then.

"She has white hair." Lydia informed me, proud to show off her knowledge of colors.

"Well when people have white or yellow hair, it's called blonde." I explained to her and she nodded, despite clearly thinking it's stupid that there was a different name for a hair color when her hair color was only brown.

"What color are her eyes?" Lydia asked me, her curiosity peaked by her new sister.

"All babies have blue eyes." I told her. "They might change color once she gets bigger." I added.

"Will they be like mine?" She asked, referring to her brown eyes that her mother gave her.

"We'll have to wait until she gets bigger." I reiterated.

"How long does that take?" She asked.

"Way longer than you think." I told her, as she was watching heavily expecting her sister to magically get bigger.

I felt like I could stay in that moment of watching Lydia watch Violet forever. But Lydia eventually got bored and went to go watch the TV in the corner.

Author's Note: Violet was born on December 31st of 1996.