Taylor was done. Finished. She wasn't sure why she'd thought she could do this, but she couldn't. Eight hours into the labor process, she was ready to end it.
What had she been thinking? Really? Did she honestly think she could raise a child on her own with her life being the mess it currently was? She'd been terrible at dealing with emotional upheaval, and bringing a baby into that life full of crazy, messy emotions was not healthy.
She hated the way the doctor sat between her legs, urging her to push just a little bit more. She hated the way Summer and Seth hovered by her side. Seth clearly looked like he was going to faint, but, since he'd looked that way from the moment he'd been dragged into the room by his wife, she doubted he would pass out. Summer, on the other hand, was intense about the delivery.
Taylor wondered if she could just do a body swap with Summer and get her to push the baby out.
"I can't do this anymore," she said aloud between shallow, timed breathing. "I can't. I'm done. I can't raise a baby on my own, and I don't think I can push anymore."
"Taylor," Summer began gently. "I don't think you have a choice here. This baby needs to come out into the world, and you're the only one who can get him out. Don't quit on him now, Townsend."
Seth nodded in agreement as he focused on Taylor's face instead of whatever the doctor and nurses were doing. "Taylor Townsend a quitter? Really? Let's see how that sounds together. Taylor Townsend…quitter. Huh."
"You already used that line before, Seth. Too bad I listened to you then because, if I hadn't, I wouldn't be in this mess." Squeezing her eyes shut, she missed the glance exchanged between Summer and Seth. The pain was too much, Taylor thought. She'd been through pain before, but this was earth-shattering, mind-blowing agony.
Too bad the drugs had worn off hours and hours ago.
When the next contraction hit, she started to cry. The tears just slipped and slid down her face, and she barely noticed. All she knew was that she couldn't do this anymore. She felt like she was being ripped in two, she looked like a mess, and she hated the pitying expressions on Seth and Summer's faces.
"Ms. Townsend, I need you to push again. We're almost there, almost done," the doctor told her encouragingly. "I know it's hard, but you've done a great job so far."
She shook her head, clamping down on the desperate urge to scream…and then the pain intensified, and something inside her felt odd. Her worried eyes lifted from her belly to the doctor's face. "Something's wrong. Oh my god, something's wrong! My baby! Something's wrong with my baby!"
"Ms. Townsend," the doctor began, but she just rambled right over his words.
"Why are you just sitting there? Do something! I can't lose this baby. I don't care if I'm going to be a bad mother, but I have to have this baby because it's my last link to Ryan Atwood, love of my life. I can't lose this baby or else I'll end up old and lonely and living with cats and I'll always think back on this moment when—Oh my god, this hurts!" She broke off and breathed in and out and in and out, not noticing the expressions on everyone's faces as they watched her warily. "I can't do this, please, don't let me lose my baby," she moaned brokenly.
"She needs to take a deep breath and push as hard as she can," the doctor informed Summer, who nodded and stepped up to take Taylor's clammy hand in hers.
"Taylor," Summer said gently. "Taylor, you can do this. We're all right here, and there's nothing wrong with the baby, except that he's ready to get out here in the world. So let's just take a big deep breath together, and then you have to push."
"Summer." Her voice was tiny and so un-Taylor-like that Summer blinked in surprise. When she opened her eyes, there was an utterly innocent and terrified look in them that made Summer want to cart her friend off somewhere safe and impenetrable. How had no one understood the depths of Taylor's despair? she wondered sadly and squeezed Taylor's hand.
"You can do this, Townsend. I believe in you, and so does Cohen." Summer shot a look over her shoulder at Seth, who nodded.
"Yeah, of course. Look, Taylor, that's my nephew you've got in there, and he's fighting to get free, and so I'm going to need you to just give it another try or two so we can meet him." He leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. "Let's do this, Taylor Townsend."
She watched them both for a moment, knowing that they were right. Though it did nothing to dispel her terror and her anxieties—and certainly not the pain—she knew they were right. And it did help, a little, knowing that they were there with her. "Okay."
They spent the next ten minutes breathing and pushing and pushing and breathing until she flopped back on the bed, sweaty and exhausted and crying. And hysterical. "No, no more. It's too much, it's too much…Oh, god. Oh, god, why me?"
"Her BP is dropping," one of the nurses reported.
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" she whispered to Summer, who tried her best to be strong. "This is the end, right? I'm going to die trying to give birth to Ryan's baby, and the poor baby's going to die, too, and Ryan will probably spit on my grave because of it—except that, oh wait! He doesn't even know I'm pregnant!" She struggled to draw in gasps of air, though it was becoming increasingly difficult. "I'm a horrible person," she gasped. "No wonder Ryan left me."
"Taylor."
Her eyes widened even as the hand holding Summer's went limp. "Oh my god."
Ryan strode into the room, already dressed in the sterile gown, and took her hand. "Taylor, it's okay. Everything's going to be fine." He resisted the urge to demand why she hadn't told him about the pregnancy, but he knew better. Accusations weren't what Taylor needed right now. She needed strength, and strength he had in spades.
"What are you doing here?" she snapped as the nurse watched her blood pressure normalize. "How did you know-" She caught the looks exchanged between Ryan and Seth and vowed that, should she live through this misery, she'd kill Seth Cohen.
"Ms. Townsend, your baby's crowning," the doctor interrupted. "Now, I know you're exhausted, but you've done really well and should be able to push your son out with just a tiny bit more effort. Are you ready?"
She clutched Ryan's hand so hard he was sure she'd broken something. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
Within minutes, the room was full of the cries of a newborn, and Taylor eagerly held out her arms for him, her prior exhaustion completely forgotten in the thrill of finally seeing her son.
Ryan stood, silent, among the movement of the delivery room as two nurses bathed the baby, helped Taylor clean up, and announced that the infant had scored a perfect ten on the Apgar scale. He watched it all as though he were the outsider, as though that wasn't his son being passed from nurse to doctor before being laid in his mother's outstretched arms.
But it wasn't until Taylor held the baby, rocking him, cooing over him that he felt the explosion of warmth inside him. Suddenly, all he wanted was to bundle Taylor and the baby away somewhere, somewhere safe where they'd never be hurt and no one could touch them. His fingers itched with the need to touch the baby, to stroke a finger over his cheek, to bask in the tiny baby's perfection.
He wanted, quite desperately, to wrap Taylor in his arms and never let her go.
Her eyes shifted from the baby to him for an instant, and he held his breath, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes hardened, the soft expression on her face changing to one of fury before her eyes flicked away and back to the newborn in her arms.
"Come on, Ryan," Seth murmured quietly, sliding an arm around his shoulders. "We should go."
He shouldn't feel so hurt, he told himself as he let Seth guide him out of the room. He'd left her, and he had no right to feel this way. But as his eyes caught sight of Taylor and their son once more, he understood that the pain of leaving them was more than he'd ever experienced before.
XxX
"So what are you going to do now?" Summer peeked over Taylor's shoulder at the baby. Contrary to Taylor's beliefs about her parenting skills, Summer thought her friend had taken to being a mother the way Taylor did everything she put her mind to. With perfection.
Taylor brushed her lips over her son's forehead, breathing in the marvelous scent of baby and new beginnings. "Do about what? I'm going to be a terrific mother, Summer! What else is there to do, hmm?"
"You're not fooling me, Taylor. Ryan knows that baby is his son—speaking of which, when are we going to stop calling him Baby? Don't you want to name him?"
She shrugged, stroking a finger over the baby's dark, downy hair. She wondered if it would be the same shade as hers or lighten to blonde like his father's. Her son already had his father's beautiful blue eyes, and she wondered if he'd have any part of her. "I had a huge list of names, but, ever since I saw him, all those names just don't seem to fit, you know?"
"Hmm, no. I haven't given birth yet. There's still six months until that happy, happy time," Summer quipped.
It didn't take Taylor more than instant before she grinned and nearly squealed. "Oh my gosh, Summer! You're pregnant! That's wonderful!"
"Yeah, it is. As much as Cohen complained today, I just wanted to say thanks for letting us be there with you because it'll definitely make it easier for him when it's our turn," Summer explained with a smile. "He's such a baby, it'll be like raising two kids. I mean, he was pretty good with Pancakes, but a human baby and a grown rabbit are two different things. I worry that he won't be ready."
"Oh, I think Seth is going to be fine," Taylor replied confidently as she held her son just a bit closer, mesmerized at the way his little pink lips opened in a tiny yawn. "He's so perfect," she murmured dreamily.
"Who, Cohen? Yeah, I don't think perfect is the word I'd use, but he's mine." Summer stopped when realization struck. "Oh! You mean your son? Right. Of course, he's perfect. Really, Taylor. You did a great job."
There was a knock on the door an instant before it opened, and Ryan and Seth stepped in. "Sorry to interrupt," Seth began, "but I just wanted to steal Summer away. Ryan and I found the nursery, and you have to come see these babies. I bet our kid's going to be way more beautiful than those squished meatballs." He paused, shifting his eyes to Taylor in apology. "Not that your baby looks like a squished meatball. I mean, he's great, he's not even crying, and you know-"
"Okay, Cohen. Let's go." Summer hooked an arm through his and dragged him out, tossing an encouraging glance over her shoulder at Taylor.
Then, they were alone. Just the two of them. Just Taylor and Ryan. Just Taylor Townsend and Ryan Atwood. Like there wasn't a giant, neon elephant in the room named Marissa, she thought. Like there wasn't the fact that she was holding their newborn son, the son he hadn't even known existed until today, not that—
"Taylor, take a breath. Let it out."
His voice made her blink before she did just that. Then, she glared at him. "What do you want, Ryan?"
"Uh, Taylor…I just…I," he felt at a loss for words. Were there any to describe what he was feeling right at that moment? Then, she shifted the baby in a protective move, and his heart broke. "This is wrong."
Her brows rose. "Well, Ryan Atwood, on that point we are in perfect agreement. This is very wrong. You shouldn't even be here."
"No, Taylor, that's not what's wrong. This," he gestured between them, "this distance is wrong. I don't know what happened, but this should never have happened."
"Uh-huh. Okay, great. Thanks for that insightful analysis, Ryan." She blew her bangs out of her eyes and swayed her arms gently. "You can go now."
Taking a chance, he moved closer to the bed and noted that her eyes now held a mixture of annoyance and wariness. "Taylor, we have to talk."
"Oh, really? Since when, Ryan? Since when do Atwoods talk, huh? I spent eleven years trying to get you to talk, and all I got for my troubles were manly grunts. So excuse me if I don't fall all over myself to talk to you." She shifted her attention back to the baby when he started whimpering. "There, there, my love. Everything's going to be fine as soon as he leaves. At least, I know you didn't inherit his genes of non-communication."
"Taylor, this is ridiculous. You're being ridiculous."
Her eyes seared into him. "Right. Of course. I'm the ridiculous one. Poor Taylor whose mother was an emotional tyrant, who fell in love with the first French man to tell her he loved her and which resulted in a graphically explicit romance novel about her which pissed off her next boyfriend, who she fell in love with, which was bad because he didn't know how to voice his feelings and didn't know how to fall out of love with his comatose, amnesia-ridden ex, and, who, ultimately, left her for the drama and angst-prone ex. Poor Taylor is the ridiculous one." Her voice rose, making the baby cry again, and she glared at Ryan before rocking her son and murmuring to him soothingly. "You're upsetting my son, Ryan. Please leave."
"Our son," Ryan finally exploded. "He's our son, Taylor, no matter how badly you wish it wasn't true! I don't even know why you're mad at me. I wasn't the one who ended our marriage; that was all you. Don't you remember? I mean, it wasn't really that long ago."
"Stop it, Ryan."
"Oh, no. You started this, and I'm going to end it." His blue eyes, the perfect shade she'd always loved, were dark and glinting dangerously. "I'm done with taking the blame for us going our separate ways. I'm tired of not being able to hold the child I helped create. Eight months ago, we were happy, and we had everything, Taylor. We had family, and, more importantly, we had each other. I loved you. God, I was so in love with you."
There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't want him to see her cry again, so she kept her eyes trained on the infant in her arms. " 'Was' being the operative term, Ryan. You were in love with me, and now you're not. Now you're with Marissa, the way you were always meant to be, so you should be happy. End of story."
His hands fisted, so he shoved them in his pockets. "Taylor, will you just calm down and listen to me?" When she didn't say anything, he sighed. "Look, I know that things were bad for you with your mom. I know that, I understand that, I get it. I spent eleven years trying not to hold it against you that you didn't get that I understood it. What I didn't understand eight months ago was why you told me to go back to Marissa. I mean, sure, I was glad that she'd remembered everything, but I was trying to come up with the best way to tell her that I'd moved on, that I was married to the love of my life. And then, you came home from work, and you told me that you'd been thinking about it, and you wanted a divorce because we didn't belong together!" His voice was rising, and she just watched him with wide eyes because this was the most she'd ever heard Ryan speak at one time and because she couldn't believe what he was saying. "Do you know what you did to me, what those words did to me?"
"Don't turn this on me, Ryan," she started but was cut off.
"I'm trying not to, Taylor, but I think we have to be honest with each other. I will always have feelings for Marissa because she was my first love, because we shared a past…But you? God, Taylor, I knew from the moment I first told you I loved you that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you."
Those big hazel eyes of hers were glossy with tears. "You did? But you—I mean, Marissa woke up, and you went back to her?"
"Because," he huffed out a breath, his fingers beginning to itch to touch her. "Because it was my fault—or I thought—it was my fault that she'd been in a coma. If I had just pulled over…"
She wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised when she reached out and placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it comfortingly. "Um, Ryan…I think you already know that none of it was your fault; it was Volchok's."
He nodded, feeling some of the tight knots in his stomach starting to loosen as she became calmer. "I know that now, but I didn't then. Taylor." He waited until their eyes met. "I never stopped loving you in all that time we were apart while you were in France. I couldn't. I've never been good with feelings and words, but I need you to know that. I've loved you for more than a third of my life, you're a part of me."
"I lied," she whispered after several moments of silence. "I lied to you when I told you that I wanted a divorce. I lied when I told you that we didn't belong together. It felt like I was cutting out my heart with a rusty spoon when I said those words, but I really thought it was what you'd wanted because you'd been all brooding after Julie's phone call. I thought you were trying to find the best way to break it off with me. And then you went, so I thought it really had been what you wanted."
"Taylor, I love Marissa, I do. She's beautiful, smart, exciting, and…temporary." Ryan waited until she met his eyes before spilling the truth with the only words he had, words he didn't think were adequate enough but needed to be said. "The way I love you is forever. You broke my heart when you told me to go, and you know I don't deal well with things like…well, things like that." Ryan reached out and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, his eyes flicking down to rest on their son. "I went because I thought it was what you wanted. I didn't want to become a burden for you if you didn't want me around."
She let out a watery laugh. "Not want you around? God, we really must have been nuts for you to forget that I wanted you around so badly that I stalked you, even after we were married." Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she knew she'd have to tell him the truth. She'd kept it from him for eleven years, but she knew that he deserved to know it, especially since he'd been honest with her. "I did crazy, irrational things to make you happy, to make sure you were happy with me because I never wanted you to wake up one morning and regret that you'd married me instead of waiting for Marissa to remember. I guess—I guess I sent you away first so that I wouldn't be hurt." Gripping his fingers in hers, she felt a wave of relief swamp her when he twined his fingers with hers. "I ended up hurting both of us, huh?"
Instead of an answer, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her against him, his other arm around their son. He could feel her struggling with herself, with her emotions—she'd always felt so much more than he'd thought was normal and healthy for a person—before she broke down. Her head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head as silent sobs shook her and tears dampened his shirt.
XxX
It was a long time later, when a nurse entered the room to take their son back to the nursery, that Ryan and Taylor finally moved. They hadn't spoken a word to each other for hours, but neither one felt angry. Just drained.
Taylor tried not to think about the future, about what their conversation had meant for what was to come. Was he breaking up with Marissa? Were they going to get married again? What now?
"Well, Ms. Townsend, have you decided on a name yet?" The nurse cheerfully asked, breaking through Taylor's thoughts, as she deftly checked Taylor's pulse, lungs, and blood pressure. "He's awfully handsome, isn't he? You must be very proud."
Color tinted her cheeks. "They are both certainly handsome, and I am definitely proud." When Ryan pressed his lips to her temple, she was sure she was glowing.
"So, no name yet?"
Taylor studied her son carefully, trying to look for hints as to who he might be. "Well, he's certainly no Francois, Pierre, or Dorian." She heard Ryan muffle a choking sound and turn it into a cough. There was a tiny smile on her lips when she chose. "Jason Cohen Atwood. Jason means healer, and I think his arrival certainly did that," she glanced at Ryan for a second, "and Cohen for Sandy, Kirsten, Summer, Seth, and Sophie because, really? Where would we be without them?" She dabbed a finger at the corner of her eye before looking up at the smiling nurse. "How's that?"
"Lovely, dear. I'll take care of that paperwork, but, in the meantime, little Jason needs to head off to the nursery."
Ryan tensed next to her, and Taylor put on her brightest, most persuasive smile, which she was sure would've been more effective had she not just given birth mere hours ago and subsequently had the most draining emotional conversation of her life. Alas, she thought. When life gives you lemons… "Actually, is there a way we can keep him just a bit longer?" she wondered sweetly. "His father just arrived a little while ago from Newport and would really like to spend a little more time with him. Another hour would be great. I mean, they say babies bond with their parents within the first few hours, and I wouldn't want Jason growing up without having a bond with his father because, really, that would just be tragic and he'd probably end up as a delinquent and-"
"Just an hour," Ryan assured the nurse, whose smile had begun to slip at the torrential downpour of words from Taylor's lips. It was good to know that he hadn't completely ruined her, he thought as the nurse left the room. "Okay, pass him over. Can't have him becoming a mini-me, right?"
Taylor looked instantly horrified. "Oh, no, Ryan. I didn't mean it that way at all! I wasn't thinking about when you were little when I-"
Ryan did the only natural thing. He kissed her before easily slipping Jason into his arms and leaving her stunned.
And then he was mesmerized, caught up in the beauty that was his son. Jason, he thought. "Hi, Jason. Hi," he whispered, careful not to squeeze Jason too hard. What if he broke him? How breakable were babies, anyway? he wondered vaguely.
Then, Jason puckered his lips before yawning, making a tiny mewling noise that sounded like satisfaction. Ryan was absolutely in love with his son.
"Ryan, breathe."
"Huh?" He looked up at Taylor's beaming face. "What?"
She brushed his hair off his forehead affectionately. "You were holding your breath like you were afraid breathing would break Jason. He's not going to break. He's an Atwood. Atwoods are tough."
"So are Townsends. Well, at least my Townsend is," he added when Taylor quirked a brow at him, reminding him of her bitch of a mother and deadbeat father.
They grinned at each other, their son between them, when the door opened again. "Ryan?"
His eyes widened before his head turned towards their visitor. "Marissa?"
XxX
Oh, man. You all have so completely blown me away with how welcoming the Townwood fans are! I love it, and I loved all of your reviews. They made me so happy and pumped that I wrote this chapter buzzed off of that inspiration, so thank YOU. I'm not a fan of the beginning of the chapter, but I think it came out pretty okay. I hope this resolved everyone's questions about why Ryan would leave Taylor...and I hope the reasoning was something Ryan would do. Ah, okay. Now I'm rambling. So I'll stop and just say thanks so much for reading!