Six Months Later
“Push!”
Pain, bright lights, Tigran’s voice by my side encouraging me. “You can do this, baby, breathe now. Just do your breathing.”
Everything’s terrible. Childbirth sucks. I feel like I’m being split in half, but I want to get this over with. I want my baby so badly it hurts.
The nurses get the room prepped, and the doctor looks up at me from between my legs. “Ready for another?”
“You can do it, baby,” Tigran whispers, wiping my brow.
“Push!”
More pain, more shoving, my stomach muscles clenching and bearing down. Again, again, again, and I’m so exhausted I can barely breathe, my heart hammering and racing in my chest, and then—
A scream.
No, not a scream.
A cry.
Tigran’s laughing. I’ve never seen him so happy before. I have a few seconds to catch my breath before the doctor lifts a perfect little baby girl and places her against my bare chest.
“Congratulations,” the doctor says, grinning huge. “Skin to skin now. Dad, I’d do it too once she’s done.”
“I plan on it,” Tigran rumbles, kneeling by my side. “You did so good, baby, so fucking good. Wow, look at her. My god, she’s so small.”
“Perfect,” I whisper, giddy with emotion. High from the release of childbirth. My mind reeling as I hold my baby for the very first time in my arms. My soul joyous knowing this is my family.
I feel so much love in this moment. Tigran leans over me, kissing my forehead, speaking to the baby in Armenian and Russian. He kisses the baby too.
“Amelia,” I whisper, kissing her little nose. Then I look at Tigran for approval.
His eyes are shining as he nods. “Little Amelia,” he agrees. “Not Russian or Armenian. Something all for us.”
“I love you, Amelia,” I whisper to her.
Tigran holds us both, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was a tear in his eye.
But no, not Tigran. Can’t be possible.
“Oh my god, she’s perfect.” Lena cradles Amelia in her arms. “I can’t wait to introduce you to Roman. Oh my god, you two are going to be best friends.”
“She really is incredible,” Arsen says and pats Tigran roughly on the shoulder. “You should be proud.”
“Dasha did all the work.”
Arsen laughs and bends down to kiss my cheek. “Your husband’s a smart man.”
“He’s learning fast,” I say, beaming up at him.
“Can I keep her?” Lena asks, cooing at the baby. “I’m serious. I’ll leave right now with her.”
“Get my baby back, please,” I ask Tigran.
“That’s enough now.” Tigran gently takes our daughter away from Lena.
“Well, guess I know what we’re doing when we get home,” she says, leaning against Arsen’s side.
Arsen frowns deeply. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”
“Absolutely not. Roman’s old enough, and I forget how hard infants are. Knock me up, big guy.”
I laugh at the look on Arsen’s face, and even Tigran’s grinning. Lena smothers her husband with kisses, and he sighs, but we all know he’s going to give her exactly what she wants.
These Sarkissian men are all brooding anger and violence until there’s a baby in the room. And then they’re like tame lions.
Rub their belly, and they do whatever you want.
“How’s the momma?” Sona comes sweeping through the door and hugs me. “You did great from what I hear.”
“All I did was push.”
“That’s hard work, Dashenka.” She kisses my hair. “We’re proud of you. Now let me hold the kid.”
“Just don’t steal her,” Tigran mutters, handing her over.
From there it’s a parade of friends and family. Sarkissian aunts, uncles, and cousins take their turn congratulating me and lifting the baby up in their arms. I haven’t even met most of them, but suddenly, they’re acting like we’ve known each other forever.
And honestly? I like it. This is the family I’ve always wanted. Big, crazy, dysfunctional, violent, rich as sin, protective as hell, and mine.
The day passes like that. It’s a blur, but it’s a good blur. At the end of visiting hours, only Evan’s left behind in the room.
“How’s it feel to be an uncle?” I ask him when he finally gets a turn holding Amelia.
“I don’t know,” he admits, bouncing her as she fusses slightly. I start to get ready to breastfeed, and he quickly turns his back. “Jesus, don’t just whip it out, Dash.”
“Don’t talk about my wife’s perfectly natural body like that,” Tigran rumbles, looking annoyed. “Breastfeeding is normal and incredible. She’s a fucking miracle.”
“I’m just saying.” Evan hands Amelia over to my husband, his face red with embarrassment, and Tigran hands her over to me.
She has a little trouble latching at first, but we eventually get there.
“You’ll get used to it,” I whisper to her, stroking her hair.
Evan sits in a chair, looking anywhere but at me.
He’ll get used to it too eventually. Or not, that’s his problem, not mine.
I exchange a look with Tigran and roll my eyes.
“You know what’s weird?” I ask, enjoying the warmth of my baby girl against my chest. “They’re just going to let us leave.”
“That’s how it happens,” Evan says, glancing over at me.
“I know, but this is a baby. I don’t know anything about taking care of her.”
“You’ll be fine.” Evan shakes his head at the look on my face. “No, really, I mean it. Look, this is lame as fuck, so please don’t ask me to ever say it again, but—” He takes a deep breath. “This kid’s loved. You two love each other too, which is amazing. There’s enough love between you three to power a fucking small midwestern city. It’ll be hard, but you’ll be fine.”
“We’ll have nannies,” Tigran offers with a tired grin. He takes my hand and holds it as Amelia feeds.
“I know. I know. I’m just—I’m just getting used to this, that’s all.”
“You guys are going to be fine.” Evan pushes himself to his feet. “All right, let me fetch you both something to eat.”
“I can provide food for my family,” Tigran protests with a hard glare.
“Easy there, caveman, we’re all aware of your hunting prowess. Take a moment alone and let me help. Lord knows you’ll wish you did later on when that baby’s crying at two in the morning.”
“Didn’t know you were an expert on childrearing,” Tigran grumbles, but he sinks back down and leans against me.
Once Evan’s gone, I sit back and enjoy the quiet. My husband watches our daughter, and I watch them both.
My brother’s right. There’s enough love in this room to last forever. And maybe I am freaking out a little bit over the logistics of raising a kid, but plenty of people do it all the time.
It can’t be that hard, right?
“We’re going to be good parents,” Tigran says, kissing my hand.
“How do you know?”
“Because we give a shit.” He strips off his shirt and gestures. “Now, give me the child. I need time with her.”
I laugh lightly and hand her over. Something about big, tatted, dangerous, gorgeous Tigran holding a teeny, tiny baby against his shirtless torso makes my womb spasm with pure obsessive joy.
This might be the best moment of my entire life.
Right up until Evan comes back. “What the fuck?” he says, frowning. “Why are you naked?”
“It’s called skin to skin,” Tigran snaps at him.
“Looks weird.”
“Get the fuck out.”
“Yeah, yeah, here’s your dinner.” He deposits a couple of trays piled high with an assortment of deli sandwiches on an end table, winks at me, and hurries away.
Tigran glares after him but doesn’t let go of Amelia for a while.
I pull over one of the trays and sit back to stuff my face.
