Libra Thoughts on Marriage - AKA, I'm a weirdo, lol!

As a Libra, I naturally think relationships and Marriage are awesome and totally worth it. I think that when two people meet and feel a spark, they should immediately plan out their next step, such as moving in together or even getting married. It seriously frustrates me whenever I watch a show - or know a couple in real life - that take FOREVER to admit that they like each other and want to be together. I do believe in love at first sight AND in death do you part.

That said, I am a weirdo, lol! I have always been poly in my heart, planning out how awesome it would be to have a husband AND a wife, and I would seriously love it if my beloveds had girlfriends and/or boyfriends of their own. My motto would be the more the merrier if we could find people that would actually fit into our little family without causing strife. I mention strife specifically because my hubby has a temper and is the most likely one to cause strife, so really, we'd need to find loved ones who can either handle a temper gracefully, diffuse it easily, or just plain ignore it and wait for it to blow over. I absolutely do not want to be part of a family that does nothing but hold shouting matches!

Okay so, that out of the way, here's what I suddenly realized the other day. Our ancestors may have known more about what they were doing than we give them credit for! I'm talking about the ones who arranged marriages for their kids. I'm also talking about a time when it was so common that it was almost expected for the bride to be young and the groom to be old. I'll give you a moment to shudder over that because you probably have some ugly preconceptions in mind of perverted old men raping teenaged girls in the name of creating heirs.

Okay, you good? Shuddering done?

Good!

Here's why I think our ancestors may have known more about what they were doing than we think. Let's start with the common scenario of an older man marrying a younger girl. For ease of math, we'll make him about 40 and her between 16-18. That makes him approximately 20 years older than her. Ironically, it would be even better for her if he was even older, but I'll just go with this for now.

Our older man probably has at least a little money, because that was a big thing that parents looked for. They wanted the husband to be able to take care of their daughter. HE wanted his new wife to be young enough to easily have babies to inherit his money some day. It seems like a match made in heaven to everyone except perhaps the outsider wondering why the poor girl can't marry for love.

Here's an odd phenomenon: The more you spend time with someone, the more you love them. This means that people you hate can grow into good friends, and people you kind of like can grow into passionate lovers. So long as a man is not abusive - and really, most men aren't - his wife will either grow to love him OR love her children and be grateful to the man who gave them to her and takes care of them - her included. A lesser form of love happens. She's probably happy, even if she had already fallen in love with someone else, and if she's not 100% happy, she'll probably take a lover on the side to meet her baser needs.

Okay, so fast forward 20 or so years. Our younger wife has had her husband's heirs and he's gotten older and - assuming he's indulged in bad habits his whole life - he's now closing in on death. Let's say that he dies while she is still in her late 30s to early 40s. She's still young enough to get married again and even have more kids if she wants. He probably left her a little something to live off of in his will (though most of it went to his eldest son), so now SHE'S in the position to take care of herself and possibly a much younger man.

So she marries a man in his early 20s, one who is just getting on his feet and doesn't necessarily want kids yet, but needs love and support. She supports him - maybe having kids, maybe not - until he is in the position to take over and support a family. This really is a love match and makes her so incredibly happy! He's there for her as her health declines, and then one day, he's the 40 year old man who wants a younger wife. Especially if his first one didn't give him children. He's now fully on his feet and capable of supporting a family.

So the cycle starts over. Yes, I made it a little to cut and dry, assuming that the older person would die while the younger one is still young enough to move on and marry again. But think about it, THIS way, a person has the opportunity to have 2 loves in their live. One which is more like a good friendship and the other which is more passionate. Hell! They could both be passionate! But more importantly, it is a very supportive system, making sure that younger people are taken care of. (And you know, in my poly world, the older one wouldn't have to die before the younger one married again, lol!)

Some of the fun of marriage is struggling at first and then overcoming all obstacles and challenges. I get that, I really do, but in my opinion, overcoming challenges is less stressful if done in a supportive environment. Also, when two people want to bring children into the world, I personally think that it is just better all around if at least one of them can financially support the entire family. YES, I KNOW that is strange coming from me considering that I am on welfare and cannot support my family. Yes it does contradict my belief that having kids is just part of life and should not be planned or saved until a couple has "enough" money, but if given two choices - having kids with money or having kids without money, I think most people would agree that having kids WITH money (as in you have money, not the kids, lol) is so much easier all around :-)

What made me think about all of this? You might wonder. Well, I reread my story called Jocelyn's Decision and it got me thinking. Jocelyn starts out as a 13 year old, and as teenaged girls are wont to do, she grows infatuated with an older man. Her infatuation grows into full out love over the years, and if she had lived in an earlier time, he could have simply married her and they could have lived fairly happily ever after.

Unfortunately, they live in a time in which - and I could never really understand how this happened in just the last hundred years - any man over the age of 18 (especially over 21) literally CANNOT fall in love with and marry/have sex with an under aged girl. Thousands of years of biology telling us to have young/old pairings, and suddenly now it's wrong. I shake my head in disbelief.

Don't get me wrong, I really do understand that a girl should be able to choose her husband and whether or not she is READY to get married. I do not think that we should go back to a time when young girls were literally FORCED to get married to old men they didn't want anything to do with. I am NOT trying to advocate any form of rape here. All I am saying is that we as a society need to stop being so anal when it comes to age. Teens can and do fall in love. Real love, or at least they think it is real. Even if adults know and can prove that it is simply the result of teenaged hormones, it literally is real to them.

Our society shuns and shames the older lover, saying that he (or she) should know better. We call them perverts and label them as sex offenders and try to send them to jail. It is automatically assumed in any case where an adult has any sort of sexual relations with a minor, that the adult forced, raped, molested, or coerced the minor into sex, but I remember being a teenager... I KNOW that teens often want sex with adults! I'm just saying that if we stopped being so anal about it and just let love - real and true love - take its course in any form, EVEN young/old, then maybe the world would be a better place. Shrugs.

Good night all :-D

Ambivalent

So yesterday I spotted. It started as a little, faint, brown spot, got pinkish and gooey later on, but still miniscule, and then I had one bright red spot before bed last night. Imagine pricking your finger, then dropping one good drop of blood on a piece of paper. It was about that size, maybe a little bigger.

I had already planned to go into the doctor because I was about 10 weeks and knew that it was about time to go in and get checked out. So I went into the doctor today and had:

- A lab visit for a urine pregnancy test - positive.
- A visit with a Doctor to have a vaginal check and various routine tests. With an order to back to the lab for a bunch of blood tests.
- A brief consult with a nurse who ordered more OB related tests to be drawn.
- A second visit to the lab to have all the said tests drawn - I think it was 7 vials, maybe 8.
- An ultrasound to check on baby,
- A much longer visit with the nurse to discuss the ultrasound and plan out my next few steps.
- A visit to the pharmacy to pick up prescriptions.

I left my house at 12:45 in order to get to my doc's by 1:30. I stepped out of the pharmacy at 4:16 and found I had just missed the bus and needed to wait until 5:10 for the next bus. Then I transferred to the next 2 buses I needed and got home at about 6PM.

Can you see why I HATE taking the bus?! I ate about 15 minutes before I left the house, and by the time I got home, I was so hungry that I attacked and devoured the left over spaghetti my hubby made for him and the boys!!!

Anyway, so what did the doctor say?

The official answer...

We're not sure.

Lol! Gotta love doctors!

Basically, The tests show that I am pregnant, as did the vaginal exam. However, the ultrasound couldn't find a baby in the gestational sac. The sac itself measures at 7 weeks 5 days, but I expected that. Remember how I told you that the ultrasound always shaves 2 weeks off how far along I am? According to my last period, I was 10 weeks, but in my mind, I already figured the ultrasound would tell me about 8 weeks.

The tech and the nurse both told me that there could be several reasons that they couldn't find a baby in the sac, the most likely being that it's just not far enough along to see. The tech also told me that the sac is in a part of my uterus that is hard for the machine to see. Normally, it's right near the cervix at the "bottom" of the uterus, but mine was up at the top of my uterus. So the vaginal probe couldn't get a good view. The probe that goes on top of my tummy had a hard time penetrating the sac too, probably because of where it's located, and because I have a lot of belly fat.

Basically, they told me not to count it as a loss just yet. More accurate is the HGC test. It's the pregnancy hormone and where it's at - AND more importantly - if/how it changes over the next couple of days will tell them more than anything if I have a viable pregnancy or not.

So, I cannot be excited about the impending baby just yet, but I also am not depressed about a miscarriage yet either. Hence ambivalent. The nurse told me to assume that I am still pregnant and go from there. So I am.

However, just being able to see that there may not be anything in there has helped a lot. If it turns out that there is a baby in there, I will be blessed, but if I should miscarry, it actually helps a lot to know that there might not be a baby in there anyway. In other words, this miscarriage isn't killing a baby, if that makes sense.

I guess you could say that I am at peace. I can easily wait the next couple of days and see what happens. I'm also going to have a talk with my Angels and tell them what I want to happen, but I'm not going to be angry at them if I don't get what I want. It's all part of life and probably part of my life's plan (fate, karma, whatever you want to call it), so I just need to figure out what my lesson is and learn it :-)

Good night all!

Update

Today - 12/14/13 - I am officially farther along than when I miscarried last year. I was waiting for this day because now if I go in to the doctor and have an ultrasound and the baby is alive in there, I can be reasonably sure that it's actually going to stay in there. I'm happy, but I'm still being cautious because traditionally, the risk of miscarriage doesn't drop off until the 12th week, and I'm not quite there yet.

According to the date of my last period, I'm 10 weeks along, HOWEVER, the ultrasound almost always shaves 2 or so weeks off that, so according to it, I'm probably only 8 weeks along. The paranoia is getting a little easier to manage, but I still run to the bathroom every time I feel even the smallest drop of moisture shift around down there to check for spotting. Thankfully, I am NOT spotting.

That said, here's why I just can't relax: My body is NOTORIOUS for playing tricks on me!!! When I was pregnant with Gryffin, my body HID this from me until the last possible moment. I even took a pregnancy test at around 3 months along which came up negative. When I did finally figure it out, my stomach actually popped out and that's when the baby really started moving around in there; like he was saying: Well, I guess I don't have to hide anymore!

Another example of how my body will play tricks on me. When I miscarried last year, I had mixed feelings about having the baby versus not, so when I started spotting, I begged my body: Oh please don't let it be over so soon! My body stopped spotting, and everything went on as normal until I went in for an ultrasound and was told that the baby had died a few weeks prior to the ultrasound. It was AFTER I found that out, that my body actually went through with the process of miscarriage.

SOOOO - since my body likes to lie and trick me - I am still half afraid that the same thing is happening now, where it's already dead in there, or worse, never really was in there and my body just decided to pretend it was! I wish I could have an ultrasound every day, but aside from getting my insurance to agree to pay for that, I'd have no way to go in and have one every day, and I mean that literally. I can't drive there, and no way in hell am I taking the bus to the doc's office everyday!

Anyway, to combat this rampant paranoia, I have told my Angels to protect this baby and keep it growing healthy and strong in there. It is strange to think that I'm going to have a 9 year old, a  7 year old and then a newborn sometime in July (give or take a few weeks)! I just never thought it would really happen again. I thought that my boys were the only two miracles that the Gods were going to give me!

But you want to hear something really crazy? I think there might actually be two in there... EEK!

Oh, and I gotta tell you that keeping this from my boys is getting harder and harder. They ask me like once a week when I'm going to have another baby, and I can't lie to them, so I've started telling them, Oh... maybe someday soon. Lol! I can't wait until I'm 12 or so weeks along and I'm sure that everything will be okay. Then I can tell them and we can all be excited together :-D

Jocelyn's Decision - Alternate Ending

When I wrote Jocelyn's Decision, I was completely satisfied by the ending. I explained why in the comments, and never planned to change it, even though it made some readers so mad! And then, over the last week, I suddenly had a recurring dream of sorts in which the ending turned out differently. To be clear, I am NOT changing the official ending, but pretend for a moment that there are different realities in which other outcomes happen. This story is that alternate universe and what could have happened :-)

“Miss Jocelyn… Your dad wants to talk to you,” Bea informed me.

“Tell him I’ll call him back,” I mumbled.

“You misunderstand… He’s here.”

I sat up abruptly, and then groaned. I ached everywhere! “Man… he really did a number on me…” I muttered out loud to myself. I forced myself to focus on the clock.

“It’s been five hours?!” I gasped.

Bea handed me my plaid pants, and I slipped them on as I carefully got down from the desk.

“Where’s Dantaelian?” I asked.

“Still with Hayley. She called shortly after I returned from shopping, and since I couldn’t find Mr. McDerry, and you were sound asleep, I gave them permission to grab a bite to eat before going to a movie they begged to see,” Bea informed me.

“Scott’s not home?” I inquired, frowning.

“No,” she replied with a shake of her head.

I followed her to where my father stood just inside the entrance. He was in his police uniform, and Larry stood next to him. Both looked sad, and Larry even seemed on the verge of tears. This was an event so rare, I had never seen it before.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Jim, Tim, and Harry stated, calling my attention to the fact that they were sitting on some stairs behind me.

My dad cleared his throat softly. “Larry received a phone call not too long ago. It seems that he is listed as Mr. McDerry’s emergency contact…”

I sighed. “Did he ask you to come make me leave? Talk about overreacting!”

“No… he… was in a bad car accident about 2 hours ago.”

It felt like all the blood in my body drained to my feet and then into the ground under me. “What?” I whispered, not able to accept that I’d heard the truth.

From the soft gasps behind me, I knew that no one else could believe their ears either.

“He's critical, Jocelyn. The doctor's don't think he'll live. It was a pretty bad crash involving three other cars.” Dad put a hand on my shoulder comfortingly, but my knees went weak. I fell to the ground, sitting on my knees, my feet wide apart.

“You’re lying! You have to be lying!” I wailed in anguish, unable to believe that the man I loved was at death's door.

I could hear his sons and Bea crying.

“I’m not lying,” my dad insisted gently.

I slammed my fists on the floor and screamed. “No! This can’t be happening!”

“This is all your fault!”

“He didn’t have to work today!”

“He probably wouldn’t have left if not for you!” His sons accused me, and I gasped when I realized that they were right.

I started sobbing. “Oh God! I killed him!” I wailed dramatically, feeling like it was true even though he wasn't actually dead yet.

My dad squatted to pat me on the back. “Hey… this is not your fault.”

“Yes it is!” I insisted in a wail.

One of the boys sighed, sniffling to stop his tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it… You’re not really to blame.”

Another one couldn’t make himself stop crying, but added his thoughts. “We were just so shocked earlier…”

“We weren’t prepared to see that…” The third finished.

I was still sobbing, curled up on the floor in something resembling child’s pose. “Yes it is my fault! From the time we woke up this morning, we were arguing. I challenged him to a drinking game hoping to get some answers out of him, and he got drunk, again. If not for me getting him drunk, he wouldn’t have crashed. So it really is all my fault!”

My dad sighed, and I think he had a pretty good idea of the things I had left out of my explanation. “No… Drunk or not, he chose to drive. Plus, he could have refused to play your game, but he didn’t. He chose to get drunk. You are not to blame.”

“Stop trying to make me feel better!” I shouted. “You’re only making me feel worse!”

“Jocelyn…” My dad tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him away. I got to my feet and ran outside until I could see my car. I threw open the door and climbed in, ready to drive to the ends of the Earth if necessary in order to be with Scott.

“Jocelyn! Where are you going?!” My dad shouted after me.

“To the hospital!” I shouted right back, only to realize that I didn't have my keys on me. I screeched in frustration and beat my fists on the steering wheel.

“Hey!” My dad pulled my out of my car and shook me a bit roughly. “If you tried to drive in your emotional state, you'd likely end up in an accident too!”

“I have to get to him!” I insisted passionately, trying to break free from my father's grasp.

“I understand that, so stop fighting me and get into the limo with everyone else. I'll drive!” My dad growled at me, forcing me to calm down and look over to where everyone else was standing. Apparently, Larry had anticipated the fact that we would all want to rush to the hospital and had pulled the limo out of the garage so that it was waiting for us to pile in and go. Everyone else stood in front of it watching me with this look that made me want to start crying all over again.

The look was sympathetic and understanding – we were all upset about Scott after all – but part of it was also angry and hard. Like they not only blamed me for the situation, but also thought that maybe I was just pretending to be upset. Reggie was the only one who had ever said it to me directly, but I knew that they all thought that I was simply playing with Scott so that he would give me money.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks that Reggie was with Hayley and my daughter. I really didn't need him to look at me with his hate and anger right now. It would be more than I could bear!

Calmer now, I squared my shoulders and marched to the limo. It's not like I knew where the hospital was anyway, so I really did need someone who could think clearly to drive. My dad was right! I probably would have gotten into an accident by driving around like a crazy woman!

In the back of the limo, I was silent and numb for the first five or so minutes. My hands were white as they gripped each other, and I literally shook. Tears began to fall from my eyes one at a time until I had a small stream pouring from me. I felt like Scott's life literally depended on me getting to the hospital as soon as possible! I felt like he would die if I didn't make it to his side in time.

Those thoughts sent me spiraling into a depression that I couldn't shake. All I could do was curl my legs into my chest, hold my knees with my arms, and rock uncontrollably as I cried and cried. Bea looked like she wanted to comfort me, but she was busy trying to comfort Tim, Jim, and Harry.

They weren't crying like I was, but they did look numb with shock and fear. If I could stop crying long enough to pay attention to them, it would have been obvious that they were hurting pretty bad too. Even Bea looked ready to break down and cry, but she managed to keep it together for the boys.

Meanwhile, Larry was also lost in his thoughts. He had been Scott's friend for a very long time, and he was probably going through the stages of grief himself at the thought of loosing such a good friend. My crying seemed to help him though, because he responded by putting a hand on my shoulder and making soft noises in an attempt to calm me down. It didn't work, but I appreciated the effort.

It seemed to take an agonizingly long time, but we eventually arrived at the hospital.

“Where is he?!” I demanded of the first person who worked there that I came across. She was only a receptionist and looked at me as if I was crazy. Enraged by her lack of cooperation, I grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her closer so that I could growl at her. “WHERE. IS. HE?!”

“Jocelyn!” My father chided me, sounding astonished and ashamed by my behavior. He pulled me off of her and held me tight as I struggled to be free. Considering that he was in uniform, the woman decided not to call for security to come handle me.

“We're here to see Scott McDerry,” Bea explained much more politely than I had been.

The receptionist looked him up and then gave Bea a look of sympathy. “He's still in the ER, but you can all go to the waiting room and talk with the staff there.” She gave us directions to the waiting room and Bea thanked her.

I would have taken off running like my life depended on it, but my dad held onto me like I was a disobedient child. I struggled to pull free, but he was a trained police officer and far stronger than me. With a frustrated growl followed by a sigh, I realized that I was acting like a child, and did my best to calm down.

Waiting for Scott to get out of surgery was hands down the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life! I absolutely could not sit still and ended up pacing the waiting room incessantly. Every time a person that worked in the hospital walked by, I asked for an update on Scott, but all they could tell me was that we would be told as soon as there was something to tell.

Hours passed and I wasn't the only one who seemed to go a little crazy. The boys started bickering because they had to release some tension before they lost it like me. I was a mess! Tears flowed from me continually, even after my cheeks literally stung.

Finally, doctors emerged to talk to us about Scott. I practically mobbed them, clinging to one of the pair desperately.

“Is he alive?!” I demanded.

“Are you family?” They asked me, sounding cold to my overwrought ears.

“We're his sons,” the three of them chorused together. “So yes, you can tell us what is going on.

With a nod, the doctors explained that Scott had survived so far and was stable, but that they still couldn't be certain that he would live. We could see him, but he was unconscious and we had to be careful not to jostle him. Doing so could rupture his stitches or cause internal bleeding.

We all promised to be careful, and then stood staring at Scott in shock. He looked terrible! I couldn't stand to see him looking so beat up, so I buried my head in my dad's chest and simply cried.

Days passed. Scott remain stable, but he didn't wake up. This was only partially because of the drugs they gave him to manage the pain. The doctors assured us that he was simply trying to survive and that he would wake up when he was ready, but the longer he slept, the more concerned I could feel them getting.

Bea couldn't stay in the hospital, neither could my dad or Larry. They left and returned for visits when they could, but I refused to leave, and so did Tim, Jim, and Harry. We all camped out in Scott's room, which – by the way – was big and roomy because Scott was apparently a large donor to the hospital and they were willing to give him and us anything we wanted. They knew he was wealthy and would be paid a fortune for his care no matter what happened, so they played nice.

Even so, the doctors kept frowning at me. I didn't notice it at first, but eventually I couldn't ignore it any longer. “What?” I asked them impatiently.

“Who are you? You're not listed as an immediate family member, so technically, you shouldn't be here.”

“Uh!” I grunted in protest, offended by their rude disregard of how much I loved Scott.

“She's immediate family,” Harry stated, surprising me because I thought they were all asleep.

“She's our dad's... girlfriend, I guess you could say,” Tim added with a shrug.

“She's the mother of his daughter,” Jim finished the explanation.

My eyes were watering again, touched that they seemed to accept me as part of the family. I nodded in agreement because the doctors were looking at me in disbelief. I bet they thought we were lying for some reason.

“I haven't let our daughter come visit because I don't want her to see Scott like this, but it's true. We do have a child together,” I stated, my eyes returning to Scott, who hadn't really changed except that his heart was beating strong and steady now.

“I guess I went against your wishes then,” my father informed me as he entered the room. “Dantaelian threw a fit until we agreed to bring her here. She is afraid for her father's life and needs her mother to comfort her.”

I started crying again, having no idea how I was going to be strong and keep it together for my daughter. My dad stepped to the side and let Hayley and my daughter into the room. They both looked like they had been crying almost as much as I had. I held out my arms, my heart constricting at the thought of my daughter crying so hard over anything.

“Mama!” She wailed as she flung herself into my arms. Sobbing, she squeezed me tight as she looked over at Scott. “Daddy's hurt!”

I lost it again, sobbing with her as the doctors shook their heads and left the room. Eventually, we both calmed down and she fell asleep. I'm willing to bet that she hadn't slept well at all in days! I handed her over to my dad, who promised to take her home and bring her back for another visit later on.

A few more days passed, and Scott was doing really well. His wounds were healing and no longer in danger of rupturing. In fact, if he would just wake up, the doctors would probably let him go home to finish recuperating. As it was, they said there was still a chance that he might give up and die after all. I watched as nurses changed his bandages and shifted him slightly to the side so that he didn't develop bed sores from laying in one position for too long.

After they were gone, I studied his sons for a few minutes to determine that they were really asleep. It was exhausting doing nothing but praying all day long, so exhausting that we had actually all taken turns going to the hospital's gym just to get a break. We'd exercise for a bit, grab something to eat from the cafeteria, and then return to Scott's side.

With a sigh, I nodded in relief that they really were sleeping. I had something to say that couldn't be said in front of anyone because I was too emotionally raw and couldn't bear it if anyone heard me spill my guts. As carefully as I possibly could, I climbed into the hospital bed with Scott. It was larger than the regular beds because the hospital wanted him to feel pampered when he woke up, so I had just barely enough room to lay on my side next to him.

“Hey Scott,” I said softly, not quite a whisper. I grabbed his hand and held it tight. “You'd better be in there listening to me, because I've got something to say to you. Don't you dare leave me! I don't want to live my life without you! You hear me?”

I lightly ran my hand across his face to brush his hair to the side. It was longer than he usually preferred it, and somehow, he looked younger. He still had bruises, and they were that nasty blackish purple color that was tinged with yellow. It was a sign that he was healing, but he still looked terrible. The sight of him made me cry again.

“Please?” I begged. “Please? … Please don't leave me. I need you! I'll do anything you ask if you just come back to me.” I cried all the harder for a few minutes because my begging didn't seem to be working. Then I got angry.

“If you leave me, I'll never forgive you! You have a daughter that still needs you! Your sons may be adults now, but they still need their dad too! You can't leave us like this, damnit!”

This had no effect either, so I simply cried on his shoulder until I fell asleep, occasionally mumbling the word please over and over. As I slept, everyone gathered; my dad, Larry, Reggie, Bea, Hayley, Dantaelian, everyone! They were quiet so that they didn't wake the four of us, which meant that I had no idea that they were there. Simply being with Scott helped me to sleep better than I had since my birthday.

A nurse came in at one point to check on Scott's vitals. She was doing her own thing – documenting his information – when she suddenly gasped. It was loud enough that I heard her, but I refused to pay her any attention because I was so afraid that she had bad news.

“You're awake!” She stated in awe.

“Yes... how long have I been asleep?” Scott asked softly.

My eyes flew open and I stared at him in astonishment. He was looking right at me, the best he could with my head on his shoulder. My hand was in his because I had apparently refused to let it go.

“Mr. McDerry!” Hayley gasped happily, calling my attention to the fact that everyone was here.

Tim, Jim, and Harry rushed to the side of the bed so that they could put their hands on their father and reassure themselves that he was still alive and awake. “We thought we lost you!”

I started crying again, so happy that I just couldn't contain myself. I clutched his hospital gown in my free hand, squeezing his hand in mine; afraid that if I let him go, I would wake up and find that I was dreaming this miracle.

“Oh come now, surely things can't have been that bad,” Scott said, shifting his attention to his sons.

They didn't have a chance to respond before Dantaelian burst out wailing. “Daddy! You were asleep forever and ever!” She ran to the foot of the bed, climbed up carefully, and rested her head on his leg. “I thought you were never going to wake up!”

Scott looked around the room in concern. He could see by the looks on everyone's faces that she wasn't simply over exaggerating. He paled as the implication hit him.

“But... it was just a small fender bender,” he protested.

My dad shook his head. “No, I actually went to the scene of the accident. You may only remember a fender bender, but it was a bad crash involving three other cars. It's been determined that you were not at fault – the person you hit was responsible – but he died. There's been one other death and five people were critically injured. Thankfully, they've all recovered now.”

“How long was I asleep?” Scott wondered, his voice sounding concerned for the other victims of the accident.

The nurse told him exactly how many days – close to two weeks – that he had been in a coma.

“And you've all been here this entire time?” Scott asked incredulously.

“Not all of us,” Bea answered with a soft smile, her eyes shifted to me. “Just your sons... and her...”

“This was all my fault!” I blurted out.

Scott sighed and rolled his eyes. “No it isn't. Now will you all please give me a few moments alone? I want to get out of this bed and also talk to my doctors in private.”

I felt crushed! After all my worrying, he was still pushing me away. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since he'd woken, and already he wanted me to leave him alone. I closed my eyes to hide how hurt I was. If he didn't want me, I wasn't going to let him see me cry!

“Come on baby,” I said, scooping up my daughter. We all quietly left the room, waiting out in the hall. I couldn't handle it anymore!

“Dad, will you take Dantaelian? I need to walk around for a bit to clear my head and I think I'm going to take a bus home.”

My dad nodded, taking my daughter from me and kissing me on the temple. “Hey... don't worry. Everything will be better now.”

I shrugged, unable to believe him.

*****

“Jocelyn? Can we talk?” Scott asked. He had been home over two weeks now, but I had been avoiding him when I was here. As a result, he had come to my room. I shrugged in response to his question.

“Whatever,” I muttered. Inside, I was preparing for him to kick me out of his house for good. I pulled my knees to my chest and held them with my arms.

He looked me over, noticing that I looked horrible, like I had been sick in bed for days. With a sigh, he sat on the edge of my bed so that he wasn't looking at me. He stared at his hands in silence for a few moments.

“Listen... I was telling you the truth when I said that I don't love you. Not the way you want me to anyway. I do care for you as the mother of my child and as my...” He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

I looked away from him, knowing that he was trying his best to let me down gently.

“I'm never going to marry you, but I do want you in my life. I want what you have been offering me for so many years... a family. I guess almost dying forces a man to reevaluate his life, and I realized that I can be more or less alone when I die, or I can surround myself with loved ones,” he said, sounding like he really had given this a lot of thought.

“Yeah, well you don't need me for that. You have so many people who love you already,” I stated, deciding to make it easier for him to just tell me that he wanted me to be a good mom to our daughter but to basically leave him alone.

“True, but I want more... I have been thinking about how much joy Dantaelian has brought me. You asked me if I wanted another baby and I didn't know how to answer that, but now I do. I want more children, and... And even though I feel perverted even suggesting this, I can't imagine any other woman giving birth to them. So, if you still want to, I...”

“Wait!” I burst out incredulously. “Are you asking me to have more kids with you?”

Scott chuckled wryly. “Yes.”

I narrowed my eyes at him warily. “And do you mean naturally; by making love? Or do you mean by using a chemical process that doesn't require us to share a bed?”

This was important to know because I wouldn't agree to it if he just wanted to inseminate me in a doctor's office. He slumped over, still not looking at me. Every ounce of his body emanated shame for a moment, but then he took a deep breath and faced me.

I watched his hand reach out and slowly pull me closer. Very softly, he gave me a kiss and then hugged me. His hand stroked my hair as I listen to his heart beat. I melted into him completely, hoping against hope that he wasn't about to reject me yet again.

“I said that I don't love you but that I do want you in my life. If you're willing, I would like to have more children... the natural way... by making love...” He informed me hesitantly. “I just need you to understand that I will not marry you, and if you one day decide that you really do just want my money, you won't get a dime! But... if you are serious about being with me and having a family... I'd like that.”

I thought about this quietly for a moment. Could it be that he was suppressing his feelings for me out of the fear that I am just after him for his money after all? Considering that women have apparently thrown themselves at him his whole life, this made a lot of sense.

I snorted a laugh. “So... what were you going to say? You care for me as the mother of your child and as your...” I asked insistently.

He was silent for so long that I thought he was going to change his mind and leave the room before we finished working out our problems. Finally, he took a deep breath.

“Lover,” he stated, honestly as far as I could tell.

I smiled, winding my arms around his neck. “That's enough for me. So... when do you want to get started on those other children you mentioned?”

“How about now?” He murmured, almost whispering against my neck.

I purred happily, utterly thrilled that he was not drunk in the slightest and still wanted me. I kissed him, pressing my body into his.

“Now is good,” I murmured. He moaned, an expression of so many emotions; relief, desire, self-loathing, maybe even happiness. I smiled again. Maybe – if I kept telling him how much I loved him – maybe one day he would believe me and stop treating himself like a monster for having feelings for me. Maybe things would actually work out after all.

For the first time, I had hope for the future.

Sanguine - Part 13 - The Finale

This story has been published to Kindle Vella.