Page 105 of One Little Mistake

She said she was on the pill. I believed her. And now here I am, nervously pacing the narrow hallway, my mind replaying everything that led to this moment. Cold sweat clings to my back, and I try not to think about the worst.

I’ve been through captivity. Taken a bullet.

But a C-section?

Never.

I’m in a sterile gown, sitting outside the operating room—for the third time. First time, I bolted when I heard the word “incision”. Second time, I caught a glimpse of blood on the instruments. Third time, no reason—just pure panic.

“Get it together,” I whisper to myself.

I glance at the clock.

Twelve minutes.

It feels like an eternity.

This waiting—this not knowing—is killing me.

A nurse walks by, and something in me snaps.

“I changed my mind,” I blurt out. “I want to be in there with her.”

She sighs, clearly exhausted, but opens the door anyway and nods me in.

I nod back, guilty and desperate, and slip back into the room.

I sit behind the curtain near Erin’s head and grab her hand, squeezing tight.

And then—one minute later—I hear it.

The first cry of our daughter.

I smile like an idiot. Can’t help it. But I keep one eye on the monitor that tracks Erin’s heartbeat.

Lately, I’ve been having nightmares about it stopping—about losing her.

If I lose her…

That would be it. I wouldn’t survive it.

I stand up, take a step closer to see our baby girl for the first time. Is she mine? She looks nothing like me. Tiny, pink, scrunched-up face… and a shock of red hair.

They clean her up quickly and lay her against Erin’s bare chest—skin to skin—so she can feel her mama’s warmth.

“All her mom,” I whisper, my throat tight.

Well. Now I’ve got two redheads. And I have no doubt that someday, they’re both going to drive me and Tim completely insane.

The End