Reviving a dead dream... (Patreon)

She picked up Asher from his crib and made a shushing noise as he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Aww baby, it’s okay. Remember me?”

He paused, eyelids lifting as his gray eyes valiantly searched for her.

“It’s Aunty Jasmine,” she cooed as she wiped away his tears. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

It took thirty minutes to calm him. In that time, she paced, rocked, chatted, and sung to him. When he finally drifted to sleep, he did so with his tiny hand fisted in her shirt, ensuring she wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t resist smoothing back his shock of black hair that stood straight up no matter what they did to slick it down.

She sat with him cradled in the crook of her arm and rocked back and forth, content to be exactly where she was. When she was here, the noisy, complicated outside world ceased to exist. Nothing was more important than this. The babies needed her… and she needed them.

Asher fussed in his sleep and let out a pitiful cry. She murmured reassurances and couldn’t resist dipping her head down to brush her nose against his. He turned his head, seeking more touch. She ran her finger along his delicate cheek and felt her heart swell when Asher smiled, gave a great sigh, and drifted off again.

If she hadn’t become a writer, she would have loved a career that centered around children. Maybe a pediatric nurse or teacher? The best of both worlds would have been a librarian who introduced children to the magical world of books.

Asher’s tiny hand latched onto her thumb and squeezed. Her throat thickened. She assumed one day she would be a mother. Producing heirs would have been her main duty if she and Ford married, but then Roth happened. And they divorced. With no partner in sight, she convinced herself she was content being an aunt and she had been… but that had changed.

She brushed her finger over Asher’s. Why should she bury her dreams because she didn’t have a partner? She could be a single mother. She had money, resources… She could adopt as many as she wanted.

She heard the murmur of voices and lifted her head. Through the glass windows, she saw Roth speaking to Linda, the head nurse. As if Roth sensed her gaze, he turned his head. Her stomach clenched as their eyes met. He would never understand why it meant so much to her. She understood why he couldn’t, which was another reason why they weren’t meant to be. She’d given up her dream for him once. She wouldn’t do so again. Once they split, she would adopt. That would be the best way to move on with her life.

Author's Note:

I had this idea of Jasmine getting into the cuddler program and volunteering at the hospital in NICU or comforting newborns going through withdrawal if the mothers were addicts. Not sure if I'm going to keep it, but this was the first time she actually acknowledged this desire to be a mother, which I thought was pretty significant. We'll see if it ends up in the book.

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Sins. Please do not share or distribute.

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