Chapter 18

JOHNNY

Everything Laura has told me hurts like hell, but I have nothing to complain about, and that's what makes my anger suddenly grow. When I heard her screaming my name and then saw her wet legs and the fear on her face, I knew what was happening: Laura was going into labor.

"Johnny, it hurts," she moans, just as I'm entering the clinic.

I have already notified Claudia, and she is waiting for us with her team to take her directly to the delivery room.

I look at her, and her face is contorted with pain, tears on her cheeks, and that causes a feeling of guilt to seep inside me. Maybe if I hadn't upset her so much, she wouldn't be giving birth now. She's only thirty-seven weeks pregnant.

Upon arrival, I pick her up in my arms and head towards the door where, as she said, Claudia is standing with two nurses and a male nurse, along with a stretcher. They quickly lift her onto it and take her down a hallway. I follow them, trying not to let go of her hand.

They take her into a room, and Claudia pushes me out when I try to enter as well, instructing me to go somewhere else where I will be given a uniform and then return here if I want to be present for the birth.

Once I'm ready, I go to the delivery room. Laura is ready to start, and I approach her at the exact moment they ask her to push for the first time. Claudia shouts at her to do it stronger when the baby doesn't appear even after the third push.

I squeeze her hand and lean over to kiss her forehead. Her tear-filled eyes observe me, and she shakes her head in pain and despair.

"Laura! You have to do it quickly!" Claudia shouts, and I see the concern on her face that makes me swallow hard.

"You can do it, babe. Let's go. Do it," I whisper. "On the count of three, alright?" She nods, and I signal Claudia with my fingers. "One... two... Three!" She closes her eyes tightly, shedding some tears. Her face turns red with effort, and all I can do is watch her until the cry of a baby captures my attention.

I turn my gaze to Claudia, who holds a tiny body that flails its tiny arms between her hands.

"Congratulations!" the doctor exclaims with a smile, handing me the crying baby.

Nervously, I take her. Honestly, I had never held a baby in my life before. Claudia helps me do it properly, and once I'm holding her without assistance, I take the time to look at my daughter closely: her skin is pink, and her eyes are closed so I can't see their color. But her hair is blond like mine, her chubby cheeks have a strong crimson color.

She's beautiful.

Containing the flood of emotions that overwhelms me at finally seeing her, having her, and knowing her, fills my eyes with tears, and all the love I have held within me for the past few months grows in a way that makes me question if I have truly loved before. The adoration is immediate, and in this precise moment, I knew I no longer needed anything from the world because I was holding the only thing I wanted for myself, the only thing I wanted in the whole world. She is my world.

"I want to see her, Johnny," Laura's voice makes me turn my gaze away from my daughter, to focus on Laura who appears very tired.

I approach her, placing my little one in front of her. As she sees her, she smiles and kisses her forehead with tears in her eyes, then nods weakly and loses consciousness in an instant.

The machines start beeping, and Claudia escorts me out with a nurse. My pulse quickens, and I scream Laura's name, trying to pass through to where she is, but the nurse stops me.

"Sir, don't worry, the lady will be fine. She's just tired; it was a difficult delivery," she says, and I look at her suspiciously. "We have to take the baby for examination. Where are her things?" she asks, and I realize we haven't brought any of my baby's belongings.

"I'm sorry, this happened unexpectedly, but someone will bring the baby's things."

"That's alright, don't worry," she whispers, taking the baby from my arms. "We'll be in the newborn nursery."

She notifies me, and I hurry to call Marco and ask him to bring the bag that Laura had prepared for this day.

.........

Currently, I'm standing in the hallway, looking at my daughter through the glass that allows a view into the area where the newborns are kept. Besides her, there are only two other boys. I haven't received any news about Laura, and the uncertainty is killing me. The clinic has registered me as the legal representative of my baby, as it seems her mother has not woken up yet. Marco arrived a few minutes ago, handed me the bag, and left.

"She's beautiful, Johnny. Just like you," Claudia comments, touching my shoulder.

"How is Laura, Claudia?" It's the first thing I ask as I turn around.

"She's fine, she just fainted," she assures me calmly. "Come, sit down." She points to more benches in front of the glass. "It was a somewhat difficult delivery, Johnny. If Laura had taken a little longer, your daughter would have been suffocated, but fortunately, everything is fine," she explains, and I say nothing. "Did they give you the birth certificate?"

"Yes," I murmur, taking out the paper the nurse had given me, the one that confirmed that I, in addition to being the father, am the legal representative of my baby, and I hand it to her. "You have to sign it."

"Yes, I know," she whispers, taking a pencil from her pocket and signing the paper. "I see the baby doesn't have a name yet," she says, noticing the space where my baby's name should be.

"We haven't decided yet." I smile and nod, returning my gaze to the window. "Can I see Laura?" I ask a little anxiously.

"Of course, Johnny. She's in a room now. I'll tell the nurse to transfer the baby there, and you can leave in the morning," she smiles and calls the nurse who brings the crib with my baby.

She leads me to a room, places the small crib with my daughter beside the bed where Laura is sleeping, and leaves, not before giving me instructions on how to feed the baby with a bottle in case she wakes up.

I approach the bed where Laura lies and caress her flushed face from the effort a few hours ago. I check the time on my watch, and it's nine in the morning.

"I love you, Laura," it feels wonderful to say it, and even though I know she won't remember it, it feels liberating. I give her a gentle kiss on the lips, and she stirs a little. I quickly move away; she's still asleep. I approach the crib where my daughter is and kiss her forehead. Then I sit in the chair in front of the bed, watching both of them. My princesses.