Episode 5

"Do you understand, darling? It's not complicated; just practice a bit with the doll, and you'll see that you'll get used to it."

Prince nodded and tried to put a diaper on a doll.

He had been attempting this for nearly an entire day, but he still found it challenging, and worst of all, it wouldn't be the same with the baby because it would be moving and possibly crying at the same time.

His mother watched him handle the doll with almost excessive care. She smiled and stroked his back before walking away. Only a week remained, so they were preparing everything in case the birth came early. They planned to go to the clinic at night, hoping there would be no one outside or waiting to start gossiping. They had a bag packed with clothes, and it was an entirely private clinic, so everything was accounted for, and all that was left was to act.

Once Prince accomplished the task, he looked at his phone and realized it had taken him ten minutes. He sighed with exhaustion. His stamina for standing that long was gone. It was just a baby, but it felt like he was carrying an extra ten kilos, and his back, shoulders, and feet ached. He figured that the baby was going to be big, perhaps too big for a girl. He wasn't surprised, given she was Maiston's daughter, and he stood at one-eighty-nine with a large, strong frame.

Just the thought of Maiston made him curse. He tried not to think of him, but it always happened. He told himself it was just the pregnancy and that it would all extinguish once the baby was born.

He closed his eyes while caressing his belly. He tried to plan how to get back to his pre-pregnancy weight, but he was sure it would be difficult. He was clear that he had eaten like a pig during the pregnancy, so he couldn't blame anyone but himself and the baby's constant cravings.

He checked his phone's calendar where he had marked the due date. He smiled, feeling happy. He thought about how he wasn't the only one. Many women were single mothers, and he, as a male Omega, wasn't the exception.

He wanted to do it well, to make many proud by proving that it didn't matter whether you were a woman or a man to be a mother because everyone had the strength for it. He carefully got up and walked over to some roses his mother had brought him from the florist. They were red, and he loved them. He felt that others didn't have the same aroma. White or pink roses were pretty, but he loved the red ones.

"Do you want some? Dessert's ready."

He turned, nodding, received what was offered in a small dish, and tasted it—an exquisite flan. He savored the homemade caramel and closed his eyes, feeling like he was in paradise.

Savory foods didn't fare well with him, but sweets he adored and craved at all hours.

He sat at the table when his phone vibrated. He always received calls from the places he managed. He watched the phone screen show the manager's name and sighed.

"Tell me, Angela."

"Hello, boss, how are you doing with the virus?"

"I'm fine, close to recovery. What's up?"

"There's an issue with some fabrics. They didn't arrive in good condition and we'll need to request a refund."

Prince closed his eyes, sighed, the last thing he wanted to hear. He swallowed and ran a free hand through his hair.

"Why weren't they checked? You're supposed to handle this, Angela. You've done it a thousand times."

"I'm so sorry, I checked them and was sure they were fine, but now they've been taken out of inventory and we noticed the issues. It was an oversight and..."

"Of course, it was an oversight!" he exclaimed. "Refunds are problems we can't afford!"

"I'm very sorry…"

"You know the limit is six days, and it's been almost two weeks! The money won't be returned."

He paced while continuing the conversation, his mother trying to calm him from the background; the last thing he needed was stress or anger.

"Prince, wait a bit, honey, and..."

"No, mom, I won't calm down because these are beginner mistakes!"

"Boss, I'm sorry, I'm trying to do everything necessary so we don't lose all the money."

"That purchase was ten million pesos, Angela, it was high-quality fabric. It's useless now, whether you do something or not because companies have their policies, and the limit is six days. The money is lost, and there's nothing we can do. You've been working with me for three years, nearly since the start, and there's never been a single mistake until now."

He heard the girl sigh.

"You can take it out of my salary if you wish."

His voice was entirely sad, prompting him to sigh too. He'd never considered that, but he didn't understand how she didn't notice it when she was always so careful.

"Of course not, Angela, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to speak to you that way," he murmured. "I've just been very irritable lately, and anything bothers me or angers me."

"The virus must be quite strong," she commented, concerned.

"Yes, the virus that has been growing these past few months," he muttered, looking at his belly. "Listen, please check the other items because we can't afford losses like this. You know that if there are losses, we'll have to cut people's wages."

"I'll do everything I can to at least recover half, boss, I promise. I hope you recover soon."

"We'll talk another time; I'm tired now."

The call ended, and he sat on the couch, sighing deeply. His back hurt, his head hurt, everything in reality. He'd never been so tired despite working since he was fifteen. He started drawing at eight, but back then, starting his own company or having a personal brand was impossible. Yet, since then, he knew what he wanted to achieve.

He never liked the clothes in stores, always seeing how many couldn't find anything that fit them or suited their tastes, so he grew stronger each day, working hard.

His drawings, no matter the subject, were always beautiful, and he had won some prizes in drawing contests. Saving money was his favorite hobby until, at eighteen, he seized an opportunity he couldn't overlook.

Celebrities were usually discovered on the street or on YouTube, but Prince was spotted for posting his designs on an art page. He uploaded many sketches of clothes in different styles, and a man who joined him for two years noticed him. It was a long journey, but the man believed in his talent, confidence, intelligence, and determination, launching his first clothing line for summer. Everyone said the same about his clothes: gorgeous, enticing, and extravagant.

Thus, he achieved his personal brand: Unicx.

"Prince, let's rest."

He nodded and stood up with her assistance, and through the effort, he felt it.

Both stared at his wet clothes, taking a few moments to process everything before reacting before it was too late. Neither knew what to do; their minds didn't react to the gravity of the situation until Prince felt the pain that made him wince.

"Don't panic! Don't scream! Don't get upset! Just breathe; I'll call Taylor!"

The son breathed as his mother was frantic and almost paranoid, scrambling around for her forgotten phone. When she found it, she grabbed it and dialed Taylor's number.

"Yes, Mrs. Sarah, what can I do for you?"

"The baby is coming!" she yelled.

The phone dropped from Taylor's grasp, and he braked harshly to prevent going any further. He didn't know what to do and quickly turned the corner to return to the apartment. He'd never been in such a situation and arrived running to see them on their way down.

"Move!" he shouted, pushing an elderly lady aside.

Without further thought, he carried Prince in his arms. There weren't many people around; he was leaving in a mask and wig to avoid being recognized. No one suspicious seemed to be in the vicinity, but paparazzi were always lurking, eager to catch every detail.

"It hurts, mom, don't let go of my hand!"

"Prince, you need to breathe! Just like me!" Taylor shouted, driving and demonstrating the proper breathing technique.

"Stay calm, sweetheart, the contractions..."

"Ahh!!! Are they almost over?!" Prince yelled.

He tried to breathe as Taylor showed, but it didn't help much as he saw Taylor making an odd, strange face in the rearview mirror while continuing to breathe. He shut his eyes hard, feeling a stab that reached deep into his soul.

"Contractions last between thirty and seventy seconds and occur every five to ten minutes."

"What does that mean, mom?!"

She didn't want to say because she saw him suffering, but she just stated:

"They get stronger and more frequent over time."

Upon arrival at the clinic, they all entered. Taylor placed him on a gurney; the nurses whisked him away on it, and they watched as he disappeared down the hall. They had no sense of how many minutes or seconds passed until a nurse returned to announce:

"The father may enter if he wishes."

Taylor wanted to explain that he wasn't the father, but he also knew that Prince would be scared and that his mom couldn't go in due to her quick fainting and high blood pressure.

"Sure," he said, entering without quite knowing what he'd find and only desiring to support his friend as he had been supported before.

He walked in to hear Prince screaming and nearly turned to run, but he saw the door close behind him and realized there was no escape. He swallowed and prayed several times because he had never been present at a delivery. At the moment, he didn't even have a girlfriend or a boyfriend to consider having a child with.

"Come beside your partner and give them comfort," a nurse instructed.

"Yes, I'm on it."

"Ah!!"

He stepped closer to Prince's side.

"Prince..."

"It hurts!!!" Prince exclaimed, his face beet red, sweaty and nearly demonic.

"We'll breathe like we've practiced, okay?"

"That damn breathing doesn't work!"

He closed his eyes, trying to push. He listened to the doctor's cues, attempting to push again, harder.

He felt his hand gripped, and Taylor thought his fingers might break. He tried to pull away, but realized he was stuck and stayed put.

"You're doing great, we're going to have Cassiopea with us soon. She must be as beautiful as you and also bossy, a clean freak, controlling, ill-tempered and..."

"Don't say those things; they won't help your Omega," a nurse reproached from behind him.

Taylor offered a nervous smile.

"I was joking, he's a sweetheart who never even utters bad words and..."

"Damn useless son of a...!!"

"I didn't teach him that," he quickly clarified.

But Prince wasn't addressing Taylor; he was speaking to that Alpha who must have been having a great time while he was in agony.

With one last effort, there came the cry of someone new.

Exhausted, he lay there, hearing the cry, heart racing, body tired and sweaty. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, hearing that wail. Taylor glimpsed what had been brought into the world. He stared, having never seen anything like it, but he vowed always to remember it.

"Do you want to cut the umbilical cord?"

He nodded. Taylor mentally swore that if Prince didn't choose him as the godfather, their friendship was over.

"Here, take it and care for it," the nurse said, handing him the wrapped baby.

"I am taking care of it," he muttered, taking the baby nervously as the woman glanced at him like those typical irresponsible fathers who neglect their children at the first chance.

"Be careful with the head; the bone formation isn't complete yet."

"What?!" he exclaimed in horror. "Prince, you didn't finish making your daughter! How can you hand her over half done?!"

***This work has been signed with NovelToon, and piracy such as reprinting without permission is strictly prohibited.***

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***