Misconceived✨

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Blood On The Dancefloor Era

The cool of the cherrywood rocking chair slid across your aching back as you glanced at the giant bassinette to your left. The tiny creature inside babbled and withered under the elaborate mobile, causing a weary sigh to part your lips.

"Can't you just sleep?" you fussed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Jr. was a good sleeper. Why can't you be more like him?"

You'd embarked on a glorious and indefinite new life journey with the birth of your third child, born barely a week ago to you and your very famous husband. A beautiful baby girl, Olympia Marie was the newest edition to the Jackson family and had everyone wrapped around her finger in baby bliss.

Ironically, everyone but you.

You hadn't told anyone, but you'd found yourself very burned out with the duties of new motherhood. Your new baby girl did not sleep through the night and stayed up odd hours and you couldn't get to sleep when she did, you had two other children that you worried you were neglecting, and you hadn't been outside the doors of the estate since shortly before your home birth.

Needless to say, you were miserable.

Suddenly the door creeks open and in enters your husband Michael, humming quietly to himself as he approaches you.

"How are my girls doing?" he questions, flashing his gorgeous smile. He bends down, pressing a quick kiss to your mouth before going over to Olympia's bassinette.

You sigh.

"Michael, I'm tired. And that child doesn't sleep."

He chuckles lightly before gently cradling your daughter in his arms. You watch him with a combination of curiosity, jealousy and admiration. He had been a natural father with all of your kids and was well received with children among all ages.

So far, you were having a tough time bonding with your baby. You were almost afraid to hold her because she always got fussy.

"That's a sign of intelligence, Y/N." he coos gently trailing his finger against her soft cheek. "my Olly is a smart girl. I think she gets that from Daddy."

You roll your eyes.

"Clearly she didn't get it from me," you reply, tossing a burping cloth over the rocking chair. "Some of us have to function with sleep, ya know. How are the other two?"

Michael turns to face you and you notice that Olympia has happily drifted off to sleep in the crook of her father's arm. You could just grit your teeth.

"They're having dinner with your mom. She made spaghetti," he curls his lip in disgust. "If you're hungry I can have someone bring up a plate."

You run a hand through your hair before rising from the chair.

"I think I'll go downstairs and join them," you reply. "You can stay here with the princess. Unless of course, you want spaghetti, too."

"I'll respectfully pass," He replies causing you to genuinely grin for the first time in what feels like forever.

You throw on your robe with a yawn.

"I'll bring you up a sandwich or something later," you giggle, leaning up to kiss him.

Michael smiles, trailing a hand down your back.

"Thank you, baby," he hums.

"No problem," you reply.

"No, I honestly mean it, he speaks. "Thank you for giving me the greatest gift life can give – three times over,"

You glance at your handsome husband, his eyes aglow with the sweet bliss that only fatherhood could bring. Nothing in the world pleased you more than seeing him happy with the family you'd built together. You really want to share in his joy but for some reason, you can't bring yourself to do so.

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