David's Point Of View.

I had always thought that when I had met Amber for the first time, the emotion which I felt was love. Looking back on it, I think that it was a mere infatuation. It had bordered on the level of the prior feelings which I had had for a previous girlfriend, that of which, at the time, I had thought was love.

Nothing was a par on what I felt now. Love is a two-way thing, against what a lot of people think. It is the undying faith between a couple, a emotion so great that you would do anything for the other in the relationship, including putting yourself at risk. I reckon that only when Amber had expressed her feelings for me, is when my own truly became what I had told her they were.

Mind you, in love and love in itself are two very different things. I think before, I may have been in love with the idea of love or even with the Amber in my head. The Amber in my head was not the real Amber. The real one had views and opinions which oppose my own, and we frequently argue. Minor spats though; healthy debates, no particular ones where we don't talk for over an hour. (Minus those times when I was being an emotion fuckwit.) In many ways though, if not all, she was far, far better. Her very essence enthralled me beyond what my imagination could perceive.

As I watched Amber swell with our child, a deep, almost primeval, instinct awoke inside me, surging and coursing throughout the veins and nerves of my body. I became extremely protective, not possessive I'd like to point out, but just concerned for her welfare.

I don't ask for much in life, but there are several things which, after experiencing them, I doubt very much that I could give up; a cup of strong coffee in the morning, the smell of fresh cut grass and paint in our new home and at night, Ambers head against my chest and her body outlining mine. Hell, Amber herself made my life complete. I'd be happy living in a soggy cardboard box as long as she was curled up beside me. There are particular parts of her though, which I especially adored; the soft, pale skin at the back of her neck, at which she quivers like a purring cat when I kissed it, the dopey but overjoyed expression she wore when she woke up and her smile, which was the first thing to make my heart turn a somersault in my ribcage.

I learnt many things about women whilst living with her, things which I had not learnt from Flo. Like when they're hormonal, the worst thing you can possibly do is to tell them to calm down, and the best is just to listen to them rant and embrace then when they've finished. Also, that they hate it when you play COD whilst they're around, and will go and turn the Xbox off. When I stood up and protested that I had just had the best kill streak that I have ever achieved, she told me to shut the hell up, wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a belter of a kiss. She successfully achieved silencing me, and for the next five minutes, all I could think was 'What on Earth did I do to deserve that?'

About a month into our living together relationship, I returned from work and hound her sitting on the sofa, hugging a pillow in her lap, tears running silently down her face. This was the first of two times that she cried during the pregnancy. You may have the impression that Amber cried a lot, but she doesn't, not really. It's my fault practically every time that she does. Anyhow, I immediately rushed over to her. 'Love, what's wrong?'

She just shook her head at me, biting down on her lower lip before she whispered 'It's nothing. Just ignore me.'

'Well no, I'm obviously not going to do that. You're upset; tell me why.'

She regarded me with those large, watery green eyes. 'Really, it doesn't matter.'

'Talking helps. A problem shared is a problem doubled. Wait, no, that's not right. Forget what I just said. Okay, got it; a problem shared is a problem halved.'

She clung to me with desperation in the manner of an infant monkey as a new wave of salty tears came upon her. This time when she spoke, her voice was almost inaudible. 'What if.. What if I'm a bad mother?'

I hugged her tightly. 'You won't be a bad mother, don't be silly.'

'But how do you know? What if they hate me?'

I pulled back, looking at her straight in the face and brushing the hair out of her eyes. 'Amber, you will be a great mother. Anyone just has to look at you to know that. You're loving, caring and will be the best Mum a kid could ask for.'

I guess that's why, at work several days later, when I heard Martha moaning about how her sister had bred a little of pedigree German shepherds and was having difficulty selling them, and did we know of anyone who would want one, that I jumped at the chance. Amber had told me a few times about how she had always wanted a dog as a child, particularly a large one, but as her sister was allergic, it was impossible. I think she was very sceptical at first, but it only took a colossal hound called Tor to change her mind about a dog and her ability as a mother.

The second time which I found her crying was one day in March, an hour or so before I was planning on taking her out to dinner. She was sitting on the bed, surrounded by all the clothes in her half of the wardrobe. I hadn't quite realised how many clothes that females need. All I had was my work suits, a couple pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts and sweatshirts, most of which she seems to have commandeered. Actually, I'm going to correct myself. It wasn't her half of the wardrobe; it was her nine tenths of the wardrobe.

She looked up as I entered and gave me a weak smile. 'Nothing fits anymore. I'm so bloody fat.'

I sat down beside her, hugging her. 'No you're not.'

'David.. Why do you stay with me?'

I laughed at the incredulousness of it. 'Because I love you.'

'But why? I constantly snap at you, am grouchy and size of a freaking elephant.'

'And why would I care about that?'

'Because you could go and..' She waved a hand in the air. 'sleep with numerous skinny prostitutes.'

'And why would I want to?'

'So you could satisfy your own desires.'

'Why do you think that they aren't already?'

'I.. I don't know.'

'See, there is no reason what so ever why I would. I don't care what you are; I care about who you are; your spirit, will and inner beauty, which is more than plentiful. And actually' I placed my hands gently upon her stomach. 'I love you more like this than I ever had before. You're beautiful, just the way you are.' Let's just say that we were extremely late for our table booking.

A lot of guys are scared of becoming a Dad, purely for one reason; they are afraid of growing up and becoming a role model. I, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Sure, I had my own doubts, such as what if I were to drop my child upon its head?

Luckily, I was not going through it alone, from a male point of view, I mean. Ella and Chris had announced a couple of months after us that they were expecting, as was Gareth and his girlfriend in my work department.

I guess the enormity and excitement of it all sank in when I first saw my baby and heard its heartbeat. Amber had experienced the latter before, at the appointment which I will never forgive myself for missing.

As the monitor was switched on and the clip clop sound, which can only be described as a horse's hoof beats, filled my ears, a strong feeling of.. well, masculinity, overwhelmed me. A great number of men are secretly worried about being sterile before they actually conceive. Myself included, I'll admit that. All it needed was for me to witness a certain proof and I was escalated into a sublime state of happiness.

A grainy image appeared on the screen and the practitioner swivelled around on her chair and smiled at us. 'And there..' She moved the doppler over Amber's stomach, and the image became slightly more focused. 'Is your baby. They're sucking their thumb.'

Seeing the smooth curve of the child's head which I had created filled me with a great sense of awe and wonder about the nature and the true, intricate design of the world in which we live. I felt a grin spreading out across my face, so firm that I couldn't have stopped it even if I had wanted to. I dropped a kiss on Amber's forehead, only able to tear my eyes from the image for a few seconds.

'Would you like to know the sex?'

I glanced at Amber again, our eyes meeting for a moment before I turned back to Dr Marsh.

'No, thank you. We'd like it to be a surprise.'

So when, on the night of the twenty-second of June, a fortnight or so before the due date, Amber started acting a tad peculiar and went to bed early, I was naturally concerned and so joined her. I don't really like staying up late by myself; it's kinda lonely and a bit boring if I'm honest. She was restless throughout the night, for the first time since it happened, I think she was actually happy that I had attacked her body pillow and destroyed it, seeing as it would have gotten in the way. I had beaten it into an exploded mess of feathers and material because it drove me absolutely insane. All my bedding was allergen free, and the feather pillow totally destroyed that effect which the others were meant to achieve. After a month of red, itchy eyes and sleepless nights, she didn't really blame me, and at least it wasn't getting in the way anymore. Anyway, I'm as good of a pillow as one which you actually have to pay for.

That night was pretty exhausting and totally unrejuvenating, on both's behalf, and I think I got about ten minutes sleep in all. The next morning wasn't much better. As I was going to leave for work, I turned when she didn't expect me to and caught her with an expression of complete discomfort.

'What's wrong, Amber?'

She was wearing that grim, stubborn look, from which I wasn't hopeful of gaining information. 'Nothing, I'm fine.'

'Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba. Now tell me, what's up?'

She looked exasperated and as if wanted to hit me really, really hard at that particular moment. 'I'm fine.' She firmly repeated. 'The baby's just been leaning against my spine, which isn't exactly the most comfortable of positions.'

'You sure that's all?'

She nodded as I embraced her. 'And promise that you'll call if something happens? I can have my phone on me as it's a sort of emergency time.'

'I will, don't worry. Have a good day.'

'I can stay, if you want.'

'No, David, I'm finefor the last time! Go!'

She was at the back of my mind all day, and when I phoned her in my morning break, I got no reply. It wasn't the first time that that had happened, so I wasn't induced into a state of mass hysteria, just a small niggle of worry.

I was with a patient (an elderly lady called Rosemary Hage who fell down a flight of stairs a few weeks ago, fractured her hip and received concussion, in case you're wondering.) when I sensed someone poking their head around the door behind me. I glanced back, recognising the young woman as one of the students here for work experience. 'Dr Grant..?'

I waved my hand at her, signalling 'be with you in a minute'.

'Your wife has been admitted to the maternity ward, she's in labour.'

'And, the surgical wounds are healing as expected, so we hope to have you moving around in.. Oh, say a few weeks. Meanwhile, enjoy the rest. Any questions?'

Mrs Hage shook her head, her short grey curls bouncing slightly. 'Thank you, doctor.'

I gave her a quick smile, before returned to the student who was shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. 'I'm sorry, but I must have misheard you, or you must be mistaken. I don't have a wife, and if my girlfriend were in labour, she would have called me.'

She looked slightly ruffled and confused. 'I was told to find Dr Grant, on floor eleven, Ethen Corridor. Um, a woman called Amber Reeve, I think it was, had defiantly been admitted in a latter stage of labour.'

That wiped the smirk off my face. 'What?!'

And thus, I proceeded to run down the hallway like a headless chicken gabbling 'oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.'

Gareth came out of one of the rooms and grinned at me. 'Go get 'em tiger!' He must have been informed whilst the messenger was searching for me earlier.

I looked back over my shoulder, as he began to crack up at my expression. 'Shut up, you'll be going through it in a few months.'

And then, well.. Then, I ran into a set of doors, which instead of being push ones, as I had initially thought, they were pull. They had discovered far too late that pull doors in a hospital were not a good idea, and were refurbishing the entire place with double swinging ones. Taking a bloody age with it, dare I say, our wing being the last.

Lying on the lino floor, groaning my head off and seeing stars, Gareth appeared towering above me, clutching his sides with amused hysteria. He wiped a tear of mirth away from the corner of his eye. 'That..' He gasped for air. 'Has to be, the most god-damn funny thing that I have ever seen.' And dissolved into a fit of laughter again.

'Glad to be of service.' I lightly touched the tender patch on my forehead where the handle had smacked it, alarmed to feel a lump already forming and my fingers glide through something wet. I pulled them sharply back, seeing dark red decorating the tips. 'Make yourself useful for once and give me a hand up.'

He obliged, passing back my dropped clipboard to me. 'Good luck. To the next eighteen years of hell, my friend. I'm on late shift tonight, so the least thing you can do, seeing as I'm gonna end up finishing off your rounds, is to come and see me later; tell me what's happened.'

I nodded and sprinted off again, thankfully not running into anything or one else. Hm.. Wife.. I like that, a lot. Why is it though, that when you're in a rush, the lift takes twice as long as it does than when you're dreading what is at the end of it.

It gave me time to think though, but quite frankly, that scared the living daylights out of me. I wasn't ready for this, at all, opposing what I had thought ten minutes ago. Okay, by looking at from a physical item perspective, yes I was. The car seat was installed, I had an emergency overnight bag in my locker, the nursery was finished and Amber had bought enough clothes to cover an entire ward of babies.

Mentally though? Oh, No. With a capital 'N'. The prominent thought running through my head, which was working at a mile a minutes, was 'how the fuck am I ready to be a Dad?' No book, words or amount of research could have prepared me for the sheep terror of the unknown which streaked through me now. Me, role model? Pah, that's like saying that Churchill wasn't Prime Minister. I get frequently drunk, sleep with women whose name I don't know and have done thing which I'm not proud of and am not going to mention. Okay, granted, none of them within the last year and a half, besides the drunk one which has only happened three times, but still?

The lift finally reached the specified floor and I hurried over to the receptionist, told her my details and was sent in the correct direction.

I burst into the room, surprised to find it so crowded. It was pretty small, and it contained Amber, Natalie, Ella and a midwife who shortly exited after I appeared. Amber's face flooded with relief when she saw me, and I immediately rushed over to the bed on which she was sitting.

'David.. I was so worried that you weren't going to be here.'

'Of course I'm here. Why on Earth didn't you call me?!' I murmured into the top of her head as I cuddled her.

'I didn't want to worry you.'

'Worry me, are you daft?!'

'She's refusing to believe that it's really happening' Ella poked in. 'She only called me to come and pick her up an hour or so ago.'

'Thanks..' I drew up a seat, taking Amber's hand, settling in for a wait, or so I thought. 'Chris at work?'

'Nope, he's in the car, trying not to throw up. He's got a weak stomach, so it seems. I swear, if he's like that when I'm in labour, he's not being in the room. I'd be the one comforting him, not the other way around. I'll hire your services, thanks.'

Amber gripped my hand tightly, her fingernails embedding into my skin and she screwed up her face in pain. 'It hurts, so, so much.'

'I know love, look through it. Think; at the end, it'll all be over, and you'll have the best thing in the entire world in your arms.'

'That doesn't help right now.'

'Can't say that I didn't try.'

'Oh shut up.' She gasped. 'Or get the fuck out.'

Natalie shook her head. 'Ignore her. She's been an uncooperative sod since we got here.'

'Figures.'

'Oh.. and you've got something..' She gestured over her forehead. Oh, so that's why they had all been giving me weirded out looks since I arrived.

'Yeah.. I ran into a door.'

'But.. It's huge.'

'Really?' They all nodded. 'Cool. If anyone asks, I decked this massive boxer in a bar, cause he started on me, being jealous of my devilishly good looks, and didn't know what he was getting himself into.'

'You' Amber shook her head at me, damp strands of hair falling across her face. 'are impossible.'

'I try.'

She smiled for a fraction of a second before groaning in agony again.

I gently rubbed her back. 'That's it, breathe, like you were shown. C'mon, you're doing great.' My hand is going to have permanent scars after this. 'How far apart are the contractions?'

Ella glanced at her watch. 'Every couple of minutes or so.'

'She's seven centimetres dilated.' Natalie added. 'Or was last time the nurse came in.'

'Seven.. Why didn't you tell me though?'

She scowled at me. 'Because I was scared, okay?'

'What of?'

'Of pain, that you weren't going to be here and that something was going to go wrong.'

'Well, you're doing amazingly with the pain, I am here, and everything is proceeding perfectly.' I was reassuring myself as well as her there.

And so, it went on, returning in waves, switching between groaning and relieved conversation for a short amount of time. I had abuse hurled at me, screamed into, used like a stress ball and became an official masseur.

'Who knew that something seemingly so terrible could come from something so amazing? And then produce an absolute miracle?'

'It's a curse; all the serpents fault for luring Eve into eating the fruit.'

'Yeah, all guys got were that they have to work to produce crops. How naff is that?'

'Lightweights.. We should kick 'em in the nuts for seventeen hours, then see what happens.'

I felt horrified at their conversation. 'I'm good thanks..'

'I had a feeling that you would say that.'

'It's all okay for you lot.' Amber shook her head. 'You're not the ones going through it.'

'I'll say that to you in a few months.' Ella smiled. She must be freaking out inside, knowing that this is all to come.

Amber glanced at Natalie. 'Take it from me, never have kids, okay?'

The midwife, Mary, entered, checking the monitors and progression again. 'Almost there. Good girl, not long now.'

I kissed her forehead. 'No more you and me.'

'No more you and me..' She softly repeated.

'No more drunken haze nights, care-free thoughts or spontaneous bouts of sex in random places around the house.' Natalie chirruped.

'Oh, that one is a great speciality of ours.'

Everything went a bit muddly then, filled with bouts of pain inflicted from nails which I really should have insisted that she cut several weeks ago.

At some point though, Mary returned, shoving a pile of folded scrubs into my arms. 'They're the biggest we have. If they don't fit; tough luck. Go change.'

'What, now?'

'Yes now, unless you want to be doing so whilst your baby is welcomed into the world without you.'

They were a bit short in the leg, and way too baggy, but you know, I'm not picky. The young trainee who was informed me earlier had entered behind her, nervously tucking a stand of blonde hair behind her ear. I'm not surprised at her being worried in all honesty. There had been a quite bit of noise exiting from this particular room earlier; screams, a fair bit of yelling, laughter and a vast majority of 'screw you's.

I'm going to be frank here. I was bricking myself as I walked alongside the bed along fluorescent bulb lit corridors towards the delivery room. Probably, in about an hour, or far less as I was being informed, I would be a father. I would know the gender of my child, what they looked like, who they looked like. I would have them safely in my arms, nestled against my body. Well, if all went well. But that was something which I don't want to even think about, let along imagine.

When it came to it though, an eerie sense of peace passed over me and I became extremely calm and collected. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Amber. In truth, Mary had to tell her to calm down because it was stressing the baby out and thus its heart rate was faster than wanted.

She managed it, until one point, where she grabbed the front of my shirt, dragged me down to her level and screamed from point blank range into my ear 'This is your fault! You fucking did this to me, you sadistic bastard! I am never letting you within a five metre radius of me after this!'

'Fourteen.'

I glanced up and student whom had spoken, quite a difficult task seeing as I was being partially strangled, raising an eyebrow at her smirk. Mary, on the other hand, was scowling and looking as if she wanted to kick something in frustration.

'Care to explain?'

'We had a bet on how many times we would hear than this week. I'm winning.' She replied, still grinning.

'Hm, one woman's discomfort is another's financial gain. I should be a modern proverb writer.'

'Stop your musing and get round here you too – clever – for – your – own – good lump of male, or you'll not witness your child's birth.'

As you may have figured, Mary and I go a long way back. She had overseen Flo's pregnancies and labours, both of which I been present at, and when I had joined PCG as a newly-qualified rookie, she had taken me under her wing and taught me not to piss the matrons off. Or her for that matter. Her voice now changed to one of a somewhat more soothing tone. 'Okay Amber, honey, almost there. Just take it slow.'

Try as I might, I couldn't wrench myself from her now iron vice grasp. Everything seemed surreal and kind of dream-like.

That was, until a high, pitiful wail sliced through the air. It was, quite simply, the most incredible noise which has ever graced my ears.

Like I said before, nothing could have prepared me for the sheer terror of the unknown, and again, nothing could have prepared me this time for the complete awe striking wonder which I felt when I first heard that sound, or when I first saw the tiny figure lifted into the air.

'It's a boy!'

My son.

I glanced at Amber, and she gave me that triumphant, knowing smirk which I had hoped that she would be too worn out to give me.

'Ten fingers and.. Um.. Twelve toes..'

'Twelve toes?' I could feel a splitting smile shine across my face at those words. 'That's my son alright.'

He was placed on Amber's chest and her arms went carefully around him. I was asked if I wanted to cut the cord. I numbly nodded as it was clamped and did so. I couldn't tear my eyes from the fragile scrap of humanity, who shared this unimaginable connection to me. The unbreakable bond between myself and this helpless infant which I had partially created, couldn't be described with words. It was a unique feeling; an emotion which couldn't be replaced with any amount of chemicals or substance.

I had held my nieces and nephews all at an extremely young age, but those feelings then didn't even begin to compete with what ran through me as my own son, wrapped in a pale blue blanket, was passed into my arms. His thin, hiccupy bleats immediately hushed as I cradled him against my chest. He turned his head in towards me, his forehead wrinkling into a miffed expression, which I knew far too well, as he stretched out an arm to touch the green cotton fabric of my top. I slowly brushed my thumb tip down his face. His hand moved from my shirt to his chin, where he clasped his tiny fingers around my mine.

I couldn't help but grin. A grin so large that a similar sized one had only passed over my face before.

'Name..?'

'Hmm?' I glanced up momentarily.

'His name. What's his name?'

'His name..? Duncan James Grant.'

Several hours later, we were sitting in a small, private room seven floors up. Outside, the sun was setting, leaving a burnt umber trail behind it, not unlike a meteorite. I was perching on the edge of the bed, my arm around Amber's shoulders as she leant slightly against me, Duncan in her arms.

She smiled up at me, looking the most beautiful that I have ever seen her. 'I'm sorry for all the horrible things that I said to you earlier.'

'No worries.' I slowly reached out and very lightly brushed Duncan's cheek with the back of my finger. His skin was soft and slightly rosy from the head of the day. I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that he's here. That he exists. If you'd told me two years ago that now I'd be the father of Amber's child I would have laughed in your face. My wildest hopes, my long living dreams, had come true.

'He looks just like you.'

'You think?'

She nodded. I guess he does, in a way. He has a shock of fluffed-up dark brown hair, and you could see a lot of similarity in the nose, mouth and general face structure. But then, even so often, you would see glimpses of Amber, mainly in his expressions. There was other family resemblances as well. Amber's parents appeared occasionally, as did my own.

'Let's just hope that he doesn't get my crappy eyesight.'

'Well, he's already got your toes.'

Truth in that. Twelve toes. Six, properly working toes on each foot, each with a bone, muscles, tendons and whatnot. He's going to have hell finding comfortable enough shoes when he's older. I should know.

'You love my feet though.'

'That, I do.' She sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. She looks exhausted. Hardly surprising, really.

'Here, let me take him. You get some rest.'

She shook her head. 'No, you've just had your turn. It's mine now.'

I laughed. A free, exhilarated laugh. 'Yeah, but you've been bonding for nine months. I have a lot of catching up to do.'

It was only when a young nurse came in and said that she should really get some sleep now, that she obliged. I was handed the warm bundle which I'm completely besotted with. He was a little less than six hours old, and yet he already had be wrapped around his little finger, which was the same size as one of my nails. It seemed as if he'd grown perfectly in sync to fit into my cradle. His head slotted into my palm and his toes reached down to the crook of my elbow.

It was soon after Amber had dozed off into a heavy slumber that there was a faint knock on the door and Gareth stuck his head around it. He smiled at me, beckoning me with a finger. I got slowly up and joined him in the hallway.

'I'm not allowed in.' He explained. 'But you, however, are allowed out. Anyway, you never came to find me.'

'Funnily enough, I've been busy.'

'I should hope so too.' He peered down at the sleeping infant in my arms. 'Aw, ain't he cute? He looks a lot like you.'

'I've been told. I didn't think you as one who would go all gooey-eyed.'

'You neither. But babies are my one weakness. I cannot wait until Summer is born.'

'You've chosen the name?'

He eagerly nodded. 'She's been Summer since the day that we found out she was a girl.'

'We only decided three weeks ago.' I softly laughed.

'What's he called?'

'Duncan.'

'I like that.'

'So do I.'

'A tiny miracle.' He brushed his longish, black, curly hair out of his shining eyes. 'You have to come to the staffroom. Everyone's desperate to see him. It's been the hot topic of the afternoon. There's been bets on everything from name to how much hair he has. On that matter, how much does he weigh?'

'Six pounds, four ounces.'

'Dang. Missed out on that one.'

'I can't believe you've been betting on my baby.'

'Oh, you know what our faculty is like. It's quite a large winning kitty. You must come, now.'

'I dunno..' I wasn't sure if I was allowed out of the ward with him, but Gareth insisted.

'He's still on the hospital premises and anyway, it'll be for ten minutes, maximum.'

I reluctantly agreed, following him. There is one main staffroom in the hospital, but each floor has its own common room, complete with a coffee maker and mini fridge. Ours is purple and covered with magnets which are pictures of embarrassing drunk moments at the annual Christmas party. It's a well known competition to see who can create the most awesome fridge. The second floor has won the past three years, but it hasn't been judged since we gained the one of Matron Philips giving the hospital director a lap dance. We're going to storm the places since that priceless item.

Inside the largish, comfortable room, the inhabitants crowded around, speaking in hushed tones.

'Oh, isn't he adorable?'

'Just look at how small his fingers are.'

'You must be so proud.'

I didn't notice Mike until I met his gaze over the top of everyone else's heads. He hesitantly made his way over to me. We hadn't actually spoken since the night that I had decked him. I had passed him a few times in the corridors, but always with colleges; never had I been alone with him. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the guy; I never had. A long time ago, he had been my best friend. I feel incredibly guilty about the whole scenario; of course I do, but it's the way that everything has panned out, and if that's fate, then I can't help it.

'Congratulations.' His voice was quiet and he looked extremely pale.

'Thank you.'

He swallowed, taking a deep breath. '.. May I hold him?'

I slowly nodded, passing over the most precious thing currently in my life. He awkwardly held him for a moment. I wondered for a split second if it had been the right choice; Amber would have killed me if she knew. Then again, she would have killed me for a lot of things which she didn't know about, including taking him out of the room in the first place. But as he shifted more comfortably into Mike's hold, who visibly relaxed, I instinctly knew it was alright.

I could tell what he was thinking; it was written all over his face. The child in his arms should be his. His and Amber's. My future should have been his. But I neither blamed nor faulted him for that; for I can understand, relate to him even.

He smiled as Duncan yawned, rubbing a miniature fist against his closed eyelid before placing a thumb in his mouth.

'He's gorgeous.'

I gave a slight incline of my head, smiling back at him. Maybe, just maybe, the fighting was over. The raging sea was calmed.

Mike held him for a few moments longer before giving his over to Martha, who beamed at me.

'I'm leaving next week. I'm transferring over to London. They've got a massive research project starting up.'

'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.'

He shrugged. 'It's time for a change of scenery. A new start, right?'

'Well, good luck then, for the future.'

'Thanks.' I shook his hand, and he left without much commotion. That was last that I saw him for many, many years, and when I did, it was under entirely different circumstances.

I took Duncan back from Martha, as he was getting a bit restless from all of the changes of scenery, noise and manhandling. I made my way thoughtfully back to Amber, who was still asleep, oblivious to the surrounding world and all of its changes.

When they were released a day later, I was petrified. We were embarking on probably the most daunting journey of our lives. There would be no constant overseeing and help. It was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time.

I let myself in first, to deal with the onslaught of the large barrel of lean muscle which was Tor. He pranced around my legs, tongue out, all 'Now, where have you been?!' The only company which he had had in the past couple of days was Ella coming in to feed him.

I showered him with attention until he had calmed down, then taking a firm hold upon his collar, called to Amber to come in now.

Tor immediately scrabbled forwards as the door opened, his nail scratching on the tiled floor, pulling me forwards ever so slightly. He strained back onto his hind legs as he attempted to jump up at Amber, who was clutching Duncan, letting out a high pitched whine at the strange circumstances.

'No!'

He got that message alright. He crouched down upon the floor, tail between his legs until I released my grip slightly and gave his a rub behind his ear. After a sniff at the new, strange smelling, bundle, he happily accepted it and settled down into the somewhat different routine.

Never once was I afraid for Duncan's safety whilst he was in the presence of Tor. He would protect this child with his life and became an ever faithful, undying guardian, sleeping at the bottom of his crib every night. Many months later, when Duncan began to stand and walk, he would be the climbing frame, standing like a statue as his fur was tugged on. He never snapped even when podgy fingers where poked into his mouth and his whiskers nearly pulled out from his muzzle. As a toddler, Duncan and he would have an unspoken pact. Any unwanted food would be chucked onto the floor from his highchair, or at me come to think of it, and Tor would instantly gobble it up.

But for now, that was in the future. We collapsed upon the sofa, so glad to be away from the sterile and strict environment, back to the comfort and serenity of our own home. The French doors of the sitting room were open, a cool, mid-summer breeze swirling in, making the long, white curtains flutter. A couple of sparrows were hopping about on the lawn, pecking birdseed out of the grass.

With my dog lying upon my feet, the woman, whom I want to spend the rest of my life with, dozing against my shoulder and my son in my arms, I mused.

My life was everything that I ever wanted it to be. And more.