Chapter 27: "You're allowed to cry, okay?"

"Do you want to see your brother?" Dr Gifford asked gently, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I glanced behind me at Mum's still body that a few nurses were cleaning up. What was I going to do? If they tried to contact my father, they'd find out he was gone. And what would they do with me and the baby?

I brought my attention back to Dr Gifford and shrugged his hand off of me. I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want to be spoken to. I didn't want to see anybody. I opened my mouth to answer, but Luke beat me to it.

"Yes. She does," he said firmly.

I pierced him with my eyes. What gave him the right to put words in my mouth? "Luke," I tried to interrupt, but he ignored me and took my hand.

My hand was hot and stained with the tears I'd wiped away, but he clenched it tightly like he was the one needing comfort. I kept my eyes trained on his big, strong hand and the safety I felt with him walking so close next to me.

Because our hands were intertwined, he felt when I began shaking with a renewed onslaught of tears.

How was I going to live with no parents and a newborn baby? How could I manage?

My whole body began to shake and I stopped walking. "Beautiful?" he said unsurely.

I shook my head at Luke and ripped my hand from his grasp. My hands came to grab my forehead and my knees gave out. It was cold. Why was it cold? I shivered and rocked back and forth.

Why was my face wet? What was happening? Why was everyone staring at me?

I wanted to go home. I wanted my mother. I didn't want to see some new baby that probably destroyed my life. My shaking abruptly stopped and I forced my hands to release. My tears stopped and I stood up.

I was selfish. Everything I was thinking about was me, me, me. I was a horrible person. I hated myself.

Stop it, Danny. Stop.

"Beautiful, beautiful, look at me," Luke said, cupping my face in his hands. I looked and all I saw was concern in his pretty hazel eyes. My own eyes were wide and shiny with the tears I forced back. "Stop it, Jordan. Stop it this instant."

"Stop what?" I croaked, trying to move away, but his hands were like vices around my face.

"You're allowed to feel sad, Danny. You're allowed to cry, okay? It's not selfish to wish your mum never got pregnant! Let it go! I'm here for you, I always will be, so stop pushing me away! Stop it!"

"H-how do I know that you won't l-leave me?" I whispered, in a quiet tone so that Dr Gifford wouldn't see me any weaker than he already has.

Luke moved his hands from my face to my shoulders and stared at me so intently and so seriously that I began to feel myself melt towards him. "When have I ever left you?" he whispered back.

I blinked. And I thought. And I thought and I scrunched my nose and thought some more. As I wracked my brain, a slow, soft smile came on my face. "You never have," I replied. "You've never left me."

At the sight of my happiness, he grinned widely and leant forward so that our noses were touching. My breathing hitched at the sight of him so close and I breathed in and out slowly and steadily to put on the appearance that his closeness wasn't affecting me as much as he'd like. When he spoke, his lips were literally millimetres from mine. "And I never will," he breathed.

I gulped at the blatant determination on his face, and somehow, he gave me strength. He made me smile when I was ready to break down, and there was nothing more I'd like to do than kiss him. But I couldn't. I couldn't do that, because it would be like taking advantage of my sadness.

I needed to mourn before I could feel.

All that bullshit about celebrating for somebody's death irked me. You needed time to be sad. You couldn't just be happy for their memory. You needed sufficient time to realise that they're never coming back, and then you could look back and smile. To tell someone to be happy about death was disgusting. Not to mention fake.

For now, I wouldn't try anything or test any boundaries with Luke. I would take care of things for my mother, I would adapt to the life of a virgin teen mother, and I would try to get over myself. I needed to if I wanted to move on. 

Once I'd calmed down, Luke wrapped his arm tightly around my waist and we looked at Dr Gifford, who was waiting patiently. I was grateful that he didn't look at me pityingly, or judged me for my off-kilter emotions.

"This way," he spoke softly, and gestured us to follow him to where my baby brother lay.

"Are you going to be alright to see him?" Luke asked, glancing down at me.

Was I going to be alright to see this child? "I'm not sure yet. It's hard, you know?"

"Yeah," he replied simply, and he left it at that, because he could tell I'd had enough of talking about my feelings. There was only a certain level of emotion I could take.

Was that sad? Was it sad that I became tired of feeling? If I got too sad, or too upset, that I just became emotionless to kerb myself? Maybe it was, but that was how I was. Luke was steadily changing that though. A few months ago, I never would've been able to smile as steadily as I have been, or be so soft, or allow myself to love. It was like I never allowed myself, because I didn't deserve it.

I didn't deserve this baby.

Was it his fault that I lost my mum? Maybe, but Mum loved him with all her heart, and I was suddenly sure that I wanted to as well. It was my last piece of her, my last token, and I needed to own up to responsibility and take care of him. That much I owed to my mother. That much I needed to do. No more complaining, because it wasn't worth it. I had to be strong, not just for me, but for another human being also.

Dr Gifford opened a door and motioned us to step through. A single baby lay wrapped up in copious amounts of blankets, with smooth white skin and the startling blue eyes that I had.

I may sound heartless, but I think that newborns are ugly, because they're wrinkly and red and covered in blood. But my brother was clean, and he was smooth, and he looked calm. He was...cute.

"May I...?" I trailed off uncertainly, my hands unthinking gravitating towards the baby. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to cuddle my last piece of Mum.

Dr Gifford gathered the baby up and placed him in my waiting arms. I crooked my elbow appropriately to support his small neck, and cuddled him gently to my chest. My heart beat rapidly as I stared at the innocent little boy, at the one who wouldn't have a mother, and maybe wouldn't have a father.

Now, the question lay in the air: did I hate him for making my mother die? Did I resent him for being born? Was I going to neglect him as revenge? As I stared at his blue, blue eyes and thin, dark eyelashes as he blinked up at me, I knew the answer. No, no, no.

I didn't hate him. I didn't. I think I loved him already, actually.

"Hello baby," I whispered, using my right hand to stroke his soft cheek. He was really pale and really small. Much smaller than Carly. Well, he did arrive earlier, so that was to be expected. "Is he healthy?" I asked Dr Gifford.

He smiled warmly at me, as though thanking me for my cooperation. Cooperation with what? "Given the conditions, he's surprisingly healthy. We don't need to keep him overnight, so you're good to leave with him as soon as you sign a few release papers and see over a few things for your...mother."

I nodded tightly at the mention of Mum. Of course I'd have to arrange that. I couldn't just leave her dead body here to be buried in the hospital's cemetery. There was no way I could do that to her. I needed to start taking responsibility and stop thinking that there would be someone there for me.

A warm hand landed on my shoulder and I cocked my head. But I'm not alone, am I? "What will you call him?" Luke asked. I craned my neck to see him staring down at my baby brother with an expression close to awe. I smiled.

"Mum liked the name Theodore." She'd always told me that if I had been born with a dick, she'd have named me Theo. But I wasn't, so she decided on Jordan.

"Theodore Wolfe. I like it." Luke grinned at me and I allowed a small smile to grow on my lips.

"Theodore Maximilian Wolfe," I added thoughtfully

"That's a long-ass name," he teased. "By the time you finish saying that, a full month will have gone by."

"Hardy har har," I mocked, rolling my eyes. "Theodore can be his name, but we'll call him Theo." I looked down at the baby. At my brother. At Theo. "Hello Theo," I whispered.

"Hey there, little guy," Luke cooed. He bent over and placed the gentlest of kisses on Theo's cheek. Theo blinked at him and made a small, gurgling noise. I smiled and Luke laughed.

There was nobody I'd rather have on my side than Luke. He was slowly but surely becoming my everything. But now that Theo was here, they both were.

I needed them, and despite all that has happened, my heart was still up and running. Mum's death wouldn't kill me. It hurt me, for sure. But I had a support system. I could get through this with a smile on my face.

And as I watched Luke take Theo into his arms and cradle him with the gentlest of gestures, I knew there was no going back. I loved them both.

I could get through this.