Falling for My Billionaire Best Friend

Chapter 41 – Father and the Piggybank



BASH

It’s been ten hours since I brought Trinity to Maternity and Children Specialist Hospital, but her cervix only dilates from three centimeters to five centimeters. Trinity is still so stubborn when the contractions kick in, she stops walking and complains of pain instead.

I’m already on my fourth cup of coffee. I’m done reading the book I brought with me. I walked ten times more compared to her just to encourage her to walk more.

She’s wearing a blue hospital gown, and her hair is tied in a messy bun, and her hands are on her hips for support.

I sigh helplessly. “Baby, if you follow what your doctor has told you to do, our baby would be distressed, and you don’t want that to happen, do you?” I ask when she sits back on an empty bench outside her room.

I’m so glad she didn’t suffer too much throughout her pregnancy. I let her stop from her job when she’s in her last trimester. She complains of having edema on her feet, but the doctor said it was normal.

She informed the doctor not to tell us the gender of our baby until her last appointment. I tried convincing her because we have to buy some baby supplies that Trinity wants to match for our baby’s gender.

“I’m tired, Bash. I need to lie down.” She stands up and walks towards her room with her hands on her hips. Sometimes I have to control my laugh when I’m seeing her walking like a sumo wrestler or this hyperlordosis as what her doctor calls it.

“Trinity, you have to walk. We’ve been here for almost ten hours now.”

She stops and faces me. “I should be the one complaining. I’ve been suffering from this pain for almost ten hours now!” she yells, mimicking me.

“I know, baby, but think about our baby. It could put our baby in danger if you won’t cooperate.” I move closer to her and rub her arms, trying to calm her down.

“Don’t you know that the baby will poop inside your tummy?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes and groans in irritation. “I should throw all those books and write complaints against those authors who brainwashed you.”

“Those authors did not brainwash me, baby. It’s the fact, and it’s called meconium stain.” My parents told me to read books since Trinity doesn’t like to read.

She paints and sketches while listening to some classical music. I bought for her safer paints that won’t affect our unborn child.

“Whatever, Bash. I want this baby to get out of me already. I suffer too much,” she drawls, her hands instantly on her abdomen. “Oh God!” she yells at the top of her lungs.

“Baby, are you okay?” I ask quickly.

I hold Trinity to support her when I notice her water leaks from her gown. Her water breaks.

“Dr. Lee? Nurse? I think my wife is ready!”

Her grips tighten on my arms. I feel cold clammy, and I feel that I might collapse. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that I hope I won’t collapse until Trinity will go into labor.

“Baby, don’t you dare pass out on me!” She yells.

“I won’t baby.” Although I’m near to pass out, I look at her grimacing face. I hear steps rushing towards us. Thank, God. Dr. Lee and her team arrived.

“You’re going into labor now, sweetheart. Your water just broke.”

The nurse let Trinity sit down in her wheelchair and push her.

“Wait!” I call.

“You’ll be safe, baby. I’m here waiting for you and our baby, okay? I love you so much, Trinity.” I kiss her lips.

She’s already wincing from the pain. I wish I can take her pain and let me feel it instead of her, but that’s the beauty of a woman, to carry a child in her womb and bear God’s blessing. I watch her as she gets inside her room.

“She will be okay, son.” Dad pats my back.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” I say as they come one by one to pull into a hug.

They’ve been here in the hospital since Lizzy received my text. They’re staying in the private room where Trinity should stay after her delivery.

“I can’t wait to be an aunt,” Lizzy says. They postponed their wedding for Trinity’s sake because my wife doesn’t want to wear a maternity dress during Lizzy and Dean’s wedding since she will be the maid of honor.

“I can’t wait to be a father, Lizzy.” I pull her into my arms.

“You’ll be a great dad.”

“Baby Bash, you should take a rest for a while. I will call you when the baby is born,” Mom says.

“No way. I want to be the first to hold my baby,” I disagree. “I’m gonna be a dad, can you stop calling me baby Bash now?”

“Not a chance, baby. Like you can even see blood. You almost collapse when her water broke.” Mom is laughing.

“Not funny. What if Trinity needs me?”

“She won’t. She’s in good hands, Bash. Her parents will be here in the morning,” says Dad.

It’s been half an hour when I notice an anesthetist wearing a green scrub suit strides toward us. My heart thuds loudly in my chest when he pulls down his mask as he gets closer.

“Is she okay?” Dad asks.

My tongue locks in my mouth.

“Mr. Hughes, your wife develops a complication, and we need—” My head spins, and my world just turns upside down.

My breathing stops, and I just stare at the doctor, and I can’t hear a single word or even process what he said.

***

I feel hands tapping on my shoulder. I try to open my eyes slowly and blink many times to adjust the lights in the white ceiling, and that’s when it hits me.

“Where is my wife?” I sit abruptly on the bed. A woman wearing a  white uniform yelps in surprise.

“Calm down.” The soft voice of my wife, making my heart flutter.

“Tri?” I ask softly, getting up from the bed and drag myself closer to where she is lying. She still looks pale but she still looks beautiful.

She smiles. “Where is the promise that you’ll be waiting for me?” She asks teasingly.

I sit down on her bed then pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry, baby I’m sorry.” I pull her into a tight hug and press my nose into the crook of her neck to inhale her scent deeply. I kiss her on her head, her cheeks, her nose, and her lips.

“How are you feeling? are you okay?”

She nods and smiles at me.

“How long did I pass out?”

“Four hours.”

“Four fucking hours?” I yell.

Trinity hits my arm, and that’s when I hear a small cry.

My eyes widen.

“Did you just swear, Bash?” Trinity hisses. “Fifty dollars, Bash for his piggy bank. His fund for his sports car.” She says, offering her hand.

My lips spread to a grin when I see a small crib on Trinity’s left side.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Hush,”

“Sorry,” I mouth.

I stop in front of my baby’s crib, and I didn’t notice my tears fall from my eyes until my face is already wet. I sniff and wipe my tears away.

Trinity offers me a sanitizer and my brows furrow. “I thought you might want to carry him,” she says.

I take the sanitizer and rubs my hands till it dries.

“Don’t be afraid,” Trinity encourages me.

My baby is still wrapped in a blue blanket. His head is covered with a blue beanie. My hands tremble when I pick him up. I feel so overwhelmed that my wife and son are healthy. I’m still trying to process the thought that I’m already a dad. I’m caught between overwhelmed and terrified.

Overwhelmed by being a dad and terrified of how to be a good dad.

“I’m sorry, baby. I missed the part that I should be the one to see you first,” I whisper as I kiss his head.

“You are so adorable,” I say as run the back of my finger on his cheek.

“You don’t know how much you make your dad happy for having you in my life, in our lives. I love you so much, son. You and your mom are my life.” I kiss him again. He stirs then he slightly open his eyes.

“Holy!”

“Bash.”

“Sorry.”

“Remove his beanie,” Trinity says.

I remove his beanie slowly then I look back at her. She tries to hold her laugh and that makes her wince.

“You okay?”

She nods.

“He got your hair,” I say, grinning.

“Hey, guys. Can we see baby Fifth now?” Lizzy emerges from the door with my parents, Trinity’s parents, and my friends.

“Wait, you all haven’t seen my son yet?” I ask, glancing at them one by one.

“No, son. No matter how we wanted to see him but you wanted to see him first, but don’t do it again. You scare the hell out of us, and we will see your baby whether you haven’t seen yet or not in the second time around.” Dad says.

I can’t contain my happiness at the thought that I’m having another baby. I hand baby Fifth to mom.

“Thanks for keeping my wife and son safe while I passed out.” I hug dad.

“Oh, my god! He opens his eyes!” Lizzy jumps in excitement.

“Really?” I ask, walking to Mom carrying my son.

“Oh, his eyes,” Mom looks surprised.

“What is it?” I ask in confusion.

“His eyes have a different color?”

“Oh,” Lizzy seconded.

“It will change but sometimes it will be permanent,” My wife answers.

“You’ve noticed them too?” Lizzy asks Trinity.

“Yup.”

“Wow, that’s cool.”

“He will make women cry.” Uncle Logan speaks.

“He’s going to bully women,” Dad retorts.

“He’s going to be a playboy,” says Aunt Zoey.

“I’m not a playboy,” I say defensively.

“Your dad was,” Mom answers.

“Oh dear, a bully and a playboy. I have to change his fund from a sports car to condoms,” says my wife. 

Epilogue

TRINITY

Who says there is no such thing as perfect? It’s been six years of a perfect life, and what can I possibly ask for more?

It feels like yesterday when I marry my hot and gorgeous husband, and now I have three beautiful kids who enjoy playing at the park.

“Baby!”

I turn my head to see Bash making his way towards my direction with our twins in both hands. He just comes from the airport, and he’s still wearing his dark blue suit perfectly tailored for him.

“Hey, you’re early.” I rise from my seat and walk to meet him halfway.

He pulls me into a big hug. My kids’ arms are wrap around his legs.

“I miss you terribly, Trinity,” he whispers in my ear.

I giggle. “It’s been only eight hours, silly.” I break the hug.

“But I was miles away from you. You didn’t miss me, did you?”

He went to Boston to visit his branch since he’s been the President and the CEO of Hughes Industries for four years.

I, on the other hand, is a full-time mother since Baby Fifth was born. Bash didn’t allow me to go back to work. I agreed because I want to spend my time with my son and my husband.

“Oh, stop being whipped. I always miss you, and we talked over the phone. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.” I playfully slap his arm.

He chuckles. “I wanted to kiss you so badly here, and when I say kiss I mean to kiss you from head to toe,” Bash says.

Our two and a half years old identical twins run away after Bash kissing them both on their cheeks and start playing again with their stuffed toys.

“I know, silly.”

“Shit!” Bash exclaims. I look where Bash’s eyes are fixed.

I notice Fifth in front of a little girl around his age with dark brown hair wearing a pink dress. My son is licking ice cream on his hand while the little girl is crying.

“Did Fifth take that ice cream from that girl?” Bash asks.

“Irene, don’t go,” Bash tells Fifth’s babysitter. Irene stays, sitting on the bench near us.

“It’s just ice cream, and my dad can buy you a house full of ice cream!” Fifth yells at the girl.

“But that’s mine.” The girl sobs, pointing at the ice cream in Fifth’s grasp

“This is not even yummy,” Fifth retorts.

“Bash.”

“I know what you’re thinking, Trinity.” I can feel the smile in his voice. My eyes still pin to Fifth and that poor little girl.

“What am I thinking?”

“You know it, Trinity.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, husband.” My eyes widen when Fifth throws the remaining ice cream to the grass, then he walks away, leaving the girl alone crying.

“See that, baby? Another bully in the family,” Bash says, laughing.

“That’s not even funny!” I hit him on his thigh.

He laughs out loud. “It runs in the family, I guess.”

I look at him sternly. His brow cocks.

He leans closer. “I love my son and my two girls, no matter how they become. I love you too, Trinity. Larger than my life.” He kisses my lips.

“Dad, Mommy, stop kissing in the park.” Fifth’s voice pulls us apart.

“Stop making girls cry, Fifth,” Bash says to his son, pulls him closer, and kisses the top of Fifth’s head.

Fifth just grins sheepishly. “She’s pretty.”

Bash and I exchange a look.

“Let’s head home,” Bash announces. My two girls come running towards us.

“Did you two enjoy your playtime?” Bash asks Rain and Shine.

They jump. “Yes! Yes!”

I look at Bash who’s happily watching our twin babble to Fifth about how they enjoyed playing with the other kids.

“Really, Dad?” They ask in unison with full of excitement.

“What did I miss?” I ask Bash.

“It’s a surprise!” our kids yell.

***

FIFTH

I roll my eyes when Mrs. Carlos announces another class activity. I know she just wanted to excuse herself from teaching today because she’s lazy as her fatass, though she has a good reputation with the school admin.

A new transferee drags an empty chair slumping her ass down dramatically to the chair.

“Fifth Hughes, how unfortunate for you to be my partner?”

Her remarks widen my eyes, but by the tone of her voice, she’s amused. No one approaches me that way.

I look at her hand, tapping the pen on her armchair.

She has her own fashion sense. Her wrist is full of bracelets made of beads and leather. What catches my attention are the neon wristbands arranged in a rainbow.

She’s wearing blue loose jeans with holes on both knees. I’m sure she did those holes on her own. Her plaid shirt is too big for her slim frame with a few buttons open, showing off her white shirt with SpongeBob winking printed in front.

“Are you scrutinizing my fashion sense, Fifth?”

My eyes snap at her face. Her voice is so smooth and sweet. “Why aren’t you wearing a proper uniform?”

“Venice.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Venice Lewis.” She smiles, showing off her dimples. She’s cute.

“Oh.”

Venice is wearing thick black-rimmed glasses. Her chocolate brown hair is braided into two. She has a straight nose, and her lips are pink and no hint of lipstick or lip gloss.

I take back what I said earlier. She’s beautiful.

“Are you just gonna check me out?” she asks with a playful tone.

I narrow my eyes on her, but before I can say my remarks, she clears her throat.

“Let’s start, shall we?” She flips her book pages open.

Venice talks most of the time, and her voice is soulful like music to my ears, and she smells good too. I can’t even process what she said.

The next thing I know is the ringing of a bell.

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” She rises from the chair, tossing her book and pen into her backpack, then walks away without giving me a second look.

Well, that’s a first.

***

“Why won’t you just ask her out?” My driver, Reiss asks.

“I don’t ask girls out.”

“Then what are we doing here, stalking a girl?”

“Hush. You answer it already,” I say when I notice Venice hop out from the passenger’s door, but I can’t see the driver.

She walks right straight to the small supermarket. She’s the complete opposite of Venice in our class today. Why does she have to hide from those baggy clothes?

She wears a white sleeveless crop top, black short shorts, and ankle boots. No more glasses and no more braids. She has a pair of long toned-leg.

“Wait here,” I tell Reiss, but I know he won’t listen.

Dad won’t allow me to go alone by myself. It’s annoying though.

I stride inside the supermarket and I find her immediately through a few customers.

She’s pushing a cart while I’m following her discreetly. She picks some dairy products, beverages, m before she moves to the snack section.

She saunters to the toiletries section and picks up hair products.

“That’s creepy, you know,” she says, laughing at me.

I feel a heat crept on my cheeks. This is so embarrassing, and she just notices me following her.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“You might need this one too.” I pick a tampon.

She barks into a laugh, picks the pack of pads I offer, and tosses it to the cart.

Shit! Did I really offer her that?

“What are you doing here, Fifth?” She stops and looks at me intensely.

Holy Mary mother of Christ! She’s unbelievably gorgeous, and her big blue eyes are almost purple surrounded by thick long lashes.

My heart pounds harder in my chest when our gazes meet. It feels so different without the glasses.

I feel like I just open my soul to her. Her eyes are compelling and spellbinding me closer to her.

“Why, Venice?”

***

The end

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