Dawn Robertson - Finding Willow

I look down at the crying newborn lying on my naked chest. It’s warm, wet, covered in blood, and screaming, but I’m not bothered. This is my baby. This is the baby I have grown in my body for nine months. This is the baby I nurtured. I love it. I could never hate my own baby, despite the circumstances through which it was created.

“Merry Christmas! It’s a girl,” the nurse exclaims while they rub the baby’s tiny body down. They scrub all the fluids off of her. Her cries turn into little whimpers and soon, she is rooting for my breast. Finding it with ease, she starts to suckle and, for the first time in my life, I feel love. I love this little girl more than life itself. I love my daughter. I love Willow.

As she nurses, I examine every feature on her plump little face. Her lips are full, her cheeks are chubby and squishy, a small dimple graces the right side of her face, and, as her eye lids flutter, I can see the smallest bit of blue leading me to believe she has her father’s eyes.

Her father.

That fucking sack of shit.

All those years ago, I’d thought I loved Blue James, my best friend’s older brother by thirteen some odd years. He was the bad boy everyone swooned over. I always thought it was a rite of passage to crush on your best friend’s brother.

I always assumed he wanted me, and only me, because of the way he had touched me for so many years. The memories I would never shed. The feel of his rough hands exploring my tiny body. It went on for years.

When I was sixteen, he came on to me as a woman for the first time. I never realized his love for me as a child was overstepping boundaries. We used to mess around, but I always stopped it before it went too far. I was a virgin, and nobody knew I was completely in love with his little sister, and my best friend, Seven. She was my everything. My entire world. No matter what happened, she was there for me. I just wanted to explore a man as much as I explored Seven.

When Blue discovered that there was more to my friendship with his sister than met the eye, he took what he wanted. He claimed his territory. He took my virginity.

He didn’t ask or plead. He raped me. Took something I would never have given him. He led me to believe it was my fault. I’d led him on, and a man so much older than me had needs. I couldn’t mess around with him without finishing him off. He was the first man I’d been with, and the only man for a long time.

Now, the result of our on-again, off-again tryst lies in my arms, nursing at my breast. I want to cling to her, never let her go. However, in two days she will no longer be my baby. My parents, along with Blue’s, found a couple in a neighboring commune to adopt her. My Willow is going to live with strangers. Newcomers to this way of life. It breaks my heart even to think about it, but I can’t raise her. Neither can her father. And, while he might technically be an adult, I am still merely a child.

She deserves a fair chance at life, not the careless, nomad existence I was raised with. That is all I’d ever be able to provide.

I run my finger along her cheek and continue to admire her features. She is the epitome of perfection, and I find it so hard to believe that I made her. She’s a piece of me that I will love forever. I keep telling myself I agreed to give her up out of love. I just wish I would finally start to believe it.

The two days fly by in a blur of baby cuddles and visiting parents. Each time they visit the hospital, I hate them a little more. I hate that I can’t pick up the phone and call my best friend, because the truth of the matter is that she has no idea I even had a baby. I never told her I was pregnant. She would worry. She would leave behind her dream of college, and a career. I just couldn’t do that to her. She means far too much.

Blue never came. He never showed up at the hospital. He never met his daughter, his own fucking flesh and blood. I thought I’d hated him over the years, but now I know my feelings back then were nothing compared to the way I absolutely detest him now. How could you be so uninterested in your own child? But then again, he’s just like his parents, and my own: selfish. The apple really didn’t fall very far from the tree in his case.

My mother appears in the doorway, and a strange couple stands next to her. I know it’s time. Time to let them take my baby. Time to let go of my dream of a happily ever after.

The couple is older, in their early forties maybe. The woman has a warm and tender smile as she cautiously follows my mother. I cling to Willow, holding her tight against my chest. My engorged breasts ache. My stomach feels deflated. My soul is on the verge of being gutted.

Everyone in the room is smiling, but me. Because I am the only one who is going to lose out.

“Star, this is Raine and Jeff Driscoll,” my mother introduces us, but I don’t look up from Willow’s beautiful pouting face. The woman steps closer. That’s when I notice her striking green eyes. They are warm and loving. I know that look, because it’s the look Seven has given me for the longest time. My defenses start to come down, because in my heart, I know Willow will be taken care of and loved, unlike me.

I slowly place a kiss on her newborn forehead and pass her to Raine. I don’t want to watch them leave with her.

I swing my legs off the side of the hospital bed and creep across the room to the bathroom. I lock the door and turn on the shower. The tears come as soon as I hear the click of the hospital room door.

My baby is gone, and I will never see her again.

I cry harder and harder.

I made a mistake. I want her back.

It’s too late. She is gone.

“Oh, yeah. Right there.”

I squirm under her touch. Her tongue runs over my clit and a shock sails through my body. I’m on the brink of orgasm. Her soft fingers reach up and pinch my puckered nipple, and that’s all I need. “Mmmmmm, baby. So good. So good. Oh, your mouth is perfection on my cunt.”

My orgasm crashes over me in waves of pleasure. Her mouth continues working my wet pussy, licking up every drop of my release. Her green eyes look up from between my legs. God, she is gorgeous, I can’t help but think. What the fuck is her name again? Brooke? Paige? Shit, I think it’s Tammy? Oh, well. I’ll just go with a generic term of endearment. You can’t go wrong with that.