Page 5 of Bottle Shock
I’m in awe of this four pound miracle, gripping my finger with an unexpected strength.
That’s my little girl.
Rebecca steps inside. “The hospital lab can do the buccal swab for the paternity test. We’ll expedite the results, and if it’s confirmed, we’ll guide you through the next steps if you want to establish legal custody. In the meantime, you’re welcome to visit as often as you’d like. Once she’s medically stable, we’ll start preparing for her discharge.”
I nod. I hear her. But my entire world has narrowed to the baby girl who doesn’t seem to want to let me go.
“Would you like to hold her?” the nurse asks me.
That grabs my attention. She looks too vulnerable to hold, like she’s breakable. “Can I?”
She nods and begins unhooking what she safely can, then settles Lily into a blanket and places her carefully in my arms.
I’ve scaled some of the tallest mountains in the world, traveled to dangerous countries, sailed rough seas, and risked my life for the thrill. But nothing—nothing—has ever terrified or humbled me like this moment.
Her weight is featherlight, but everything in me shifts under it—like I’m carrying my heart outside my body. Because maybe, for the first time, I am. It’s out of body. It’s surreal. It’s life-changing.
She’s warm and soft, her heartbeat a flutter against my chest. I stare down at her tiny, perfect face and know my life will never be the same. The man who walked into this hospital is gone, replaced by someone new. Someone who would do anything to give this little girl the life she deserves. To be the father she deserves.
She stirs, a sleepy sigh escaping her lips as her eyes blink open.
“Hi, Lily,” I whisper, emotion clogging in my throat. “I’m your dad.”
CHAPTER 2
Gavin
COMA—CAUSED BY PENIS
PRESENT
“…Happy birthday dear Lily, happy birthday to you.”
Lily leans forward, her face glowing with excitement as she blows out all seven candles in one determined breath.
Seven.
My daughter is seven.
Where the hell did the time go?
It feels like yesterday she fit in my arms like a loaf of bread—small, fragile, and somehow powerful enough to scare the shit out of me.
If I’m honest, that fear never really left. I’ve just gotten better at living with it.
“Dad!” Lily shouts while wielding a cake knife through the air. “Chocolate or vanilla?”
I stand and approach the table, tossing my daughter a knowing look.
“Is that even a question? Chocolate, obviously.”
She smiles, a toothy grin that looks especially goofy with her two front bottom teeth missing. Using the finesse only a seven-year-old could manage, she serves me up. My sister Ariana is supervising, making sure Lily doesn't slice a finger off.
“Here you go.” She hands me a plate with two heaping slices and before I can pick up my fork, she’s sucking the chocolate frosting off her finger with a loud pop while droplets of water fall from the tips of her braided pigtails. She’s soaked from head to toe, having spent most of the party in the pool.
“Bear, why don’t you let your aunt finish up slicing the cake? The birthday girl should not be doing manual labor at her own party.”
Though what I’m saying is true, I’m mostly trying to keep germy kid spit and dirty chlorine water from contaminating the cake.
