Timeless Reunion

Chapter 77- Take me in your arms

Jenn's pov
3 days later...

After three days, I'm finally leaving the hospital and heading home with Ben. The silence between us during this time has been both comforting and challenging. While he's been incredibly helpful with baby Ben, I find myself yearning for more than just practical support. I long to share conversations and connect with him on an emotional level.

I know Ben respects my need for space, but it's also left me feeling uncertain about what I truly want. On one hand, I crave his presence and affection; on the other, there are lingering doubts and hesitations that hold me back. It's disheartening to realize that he may not be fully available to support me emotionally, triggering memories of feeling neglected in my childhood.

As we prepare to leave, I steal glances at Ben, hoping for some sign of understanding or reassurance. Despite the unspoken tension, his presence is a source of comfort, and I cling to the hope that we can navigate through this together.

Despite our recent silence and the impending separation, I can't deny the deep-rooted feelings I have for Ben. He's not just my partner; he's also been my friend, confidant, and lover. The fear of losing him completely, of severing the bond we've built over the years, weighs heavily on my heart. As we navigate the challenges of co-parenting and adjusting to our new reality, I find myself questioning everything. Can we salvage our relationship, or is it too late? Can we find a way to be friends and support each other through this, even if we're no longer together romantically?

These questions linger in the air, unspoken but ever-present. I know that the road ahead won't be easy, but I also know that I can't imagine facing it without Ben by my side in some capacity. It's a delicate balance between holding on and letting go, and I'm filled with uncertainty about what the future holds for us.

As we navigate the hospital hallway towards the exit, the sounds of footsteps, chatter, and medical equipment fill the air. The nurse pushes me in the wheelchair, her movements gentle and practiced, ensuring my comfort after the delivery. Ben walks alongside us, cradling the car seat with our newborn son inside, his expression a mix of pride and awe.

I steal glances at Ben, hoping for a sign of emotional connection, but his attention is focused on our son. His smile is genuine as he gazes at the tiny bundle in his arms, completely absorbed in the wonder of fatherhood. While his physical presence is comforting, I can't help but feel a pang of sadness at the emotional distance between us.

As we approach the entrance, the sunlight streaming through the glass doors signals the beginning of a new chapter. The nurse helps me into the backseat of the waiting car, while Ben carefully secures the car seat beside me, his movements confident and practiced.

I watch him for a moment, taking in the way his eyes light up with each glance at our son. Despite the lack of emotional connection in that moment, I find comfort in the shared experience of starting this journey as parents. As the car pulls away from the hospital, I hold onto the hope that with time and effort, we can bridge the gap between us and find a way to navigate the challenges ahead as a united family.

As we reach the waiting car, Ben sets the car seat down carefully and then assists me into the backseat, his touch gentle and supportive. He settles in beside me, and our driver starts the car. Ben thanks the nurse with a nod and a smile, his gratitude evident even in his quiet demeanor, before closing the door.

The car ride home is filled with a comfortable silence, but I can't help but feel the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. He sits beside me, his posture relaxed yet closed off, lost in his own thoughts. Meanwhile, I'm torn between the urge to reach out and cuddle him, to seek the warmth of his embrace, and the understanding that he's respecting my boundaries.