Only a week is needed before I can make my escape. Three pounds heavier and a craving for Blake's cooking, I leave the hospital and don't look back. I might miss the chats I had with the morning nurse about funny pregnancy stories, but I won't miss staring at the blue themed hospital walls.

Our ride home in Blake's car is refreshing. A sense of familiarity mixed with a dash of freedom. I take a moment to enjoy the passing view of the neighbourhood, sucking in details that make me feel at home.

The warm glow of the sun heats the side of my cheek. Closing my eyes, I lean against the car window and take a deep breath. It's nice to be out of the hospital and in the free world. Blake's hand rests on my inner thigh while the radio softly plays in the background.

When we arrive at home, Blake parks in the driveway and I get out the car. He grabs our bags from the back seat and we walk down the side of the house and towards ours. Blake presses his hand against my back, hesitant to move too far from my side.

"You know, I can walk by myself," I tease.

"I know." I glance up to see his pain stricken face. Probably too soon to joke. Blake won't tell me much of what happened when I was in hospital. His quiet and calculating words makes me nervous, I need to know what happened.

He said we'd discuss things when I'm better and out of hospital. I don't think he wanted to worry me while I was in the recovery process. Now that I'm out, I'm not so fragile. I don't want him to think he's walking on glass when I'm around.

Accidents happen, falling down the stairs included. Nobody could have guessed I'd have fallen. It sucks that something so tragic happened, but I'm willing to put it past. Spending a week in hospital talking to the nurses and other patients have really helped me overcome the combination of fear and embarrassment.

Blake moves ahead to open the door, I step inside and walk down the hallway. When I don't feel his presence behind me, I peer back and see Blake placing the baggage on the ground near the doorway.

Taking a deep breath, I step into the room and glance at the steps.

I'd expected to feel something, worry maybe? Scared, hatred, or even uneasiness. These were the stairs I'd fallen down and almost lost our baby. Yet, as they stared back, I didn't feel anything. Maybe I really do believe the stuff that filters through my mind.

You can't hate a pair of stairs if you can't even use them in the first place . . . I half expect Blake to tell me we're sleeping in the guest bedroom to avoid using the stairs from now on. Even if it hasn't happened, there's still time!

If anything, Blake's more worried about me walking down stairs than I am. Funny, considering I'm the one that tumbled down like a tumbleweed.

There's a slight cough that captures my attention. Angela's sitting on the couch, a cup of coffee clasped in one hand resting on her bent knee.

"You're back, hun!" She places the empty coffee cup on the table as she springs to her feet.

Angela walks around the couch to give me a hug. I still haven't gotten used to hugging people with this stomach. So it's an awkward bump of a hug that leave me blushing.

One of the downsides of being out for a month and a week, you don't have any clothes that really fit. A pair of tight stretchy pants splitting at the seams and a baggy shirt that looks more crop than baggy. Thankfully, Tori came to my rescue with an old dark blue maxi dress she wore with London.

It felt weird to wear her clothes, but it would have been painful to send Blake clothes shopping for maternity wear. I doubt he knows the rules of fashion . . . I'd much rather pick something out myself.

"I've missed you all." I smile. "Where's little London?"

London and Angela had been in a few times to see me, but not enough. Even Kyle had taken time off his studies to spend the day with me . . . but there are so many more hours to fill in when after visitation.

The worse thing about being in hospital is the isolation. The day time nurses are a little chatty, but when nightfall turns around, they're tired and in a rush to get from one room to another to end their shift. Then all your left is a dull movie to watch, and the eerily quiet room with the occasional beeping noise from the machines.

At least at home, I can do what I want. People can come and see me whenever they like and there's certainly more things to watch on television or even the computer.

"Just wait." Angela smiles with excitement.

Frowning, I look around the room and wait.

I hear giggling before I see London wobble around the side of the chair. She takes three steps before falling forwards on her hands. London tries to stand up by herself, but she falls flat on her stomach.

Instead of getting up, she speed crawls the rest of the way towards us, then raises her hands to be picked up. As I go to crouch down, Blake swoops in and picks London up and passes her over.

"I had it, gee." I shake my head. "I'm not that big that I can't bend over."

"I'm just helping," replies Blake.

"When did she start walking?" I ask, dismissing his last comment. "I can't believe I missed your first step!" I frown.

London places her hand against my cheek and smiles. She then buries her head into the side of my neck and holds onto my clothing. At least she still remembers me, I was afraid she'd forget me.

"A couple of days before you woke up. Mum's got it on film," answers Blake.

"That's right, I sure do." Angela grabs her phone out of her pocket and plays the video.

Tori is sitting on the ground beside the couch. She picks up London so she's standing on her feet. Tori calls for London to walk to her. On the first three tries, her legs are too shaky and she falls to the ground. But on the fourth go of getting up, she takes one step and falls into Tori's arms. London squeals with excitement while I smile.

First steps are never easy, they require a lot of patience and persistence before you get that first step right. Even within that first step, there's always a chance of falling. We might learn to walk when we're younger, but we'll never truly learn how to keep walking by ourselves. That's what I like about baby steps, you didn't have to do it alone, and you didn't have to take leaps. You step as you go, no matter the times you fall down or get up.

"I can't believe she's walking," I gush.

"When the hell did you grow up, missy?" Blake asks, a smile on his face.

"Blake, language," scolds Angela while lightly tapping his shoulder.

I laugh and Blake pouts, a boyish grin soon reaching his lips. I hand London to Blake and he cuddles.

"You're getting me in trouble, again." He pokes her chest.

"You get yourself in trouble! Don't blame my innocent grandbaby!" Angela charges in, a wild glint of humour swirling in her eyes.

Hearing those two through banter back and forth definitely makes me feel at home. I'm really glad to be home! When I re-join the conversation, Angela is waving her hands in the air to describe something.

"You know what I'm talking about, right?" Angela eyes me off, but I shrug my shoulders.

"Sorry." I wasn't paying attention.

"See!" says Blake. "You're going too overboard with London's party. It's going to be a circus with the way you're going."

"Party?" I frown.

"Darn, I forgot to mention that." Blake awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

Angela turns to look at me, a sad swirl in her eyes. "I hope you don't mind, Ava. I volunteered to throw London a birthday party because of the . . . you know?"

The room falls to an awkward silence as their eyes gaze at me. I would have enjoyed planning London's birthday, but I'm glad it's in the capable hands of Angela. She loves London just as much as the rest of us, so I know it's going to be great!

"Oh no." I shake my head and suck up the disappointment. "I think that's a great idea. Blake would have gone to maccas for her party," I tease, which seems to lighten the mood.

"He would!" grumbles Angela. "I've organised some entertainment, family, and friends, and I've got the cake picked out."

"Sounds good." I nod my head.

"Don't worry about a thing, I've got it cover. You need to rest and make sure my second grandbaby is all good." She smiles.

"I'll endeavour to try." I laugh.

Living with my family, there's always something to do. Dishes or clothes to be washed, food to cook, and a baby to amuse. Resting seems like a sweet idea, but I'm not sure how much of it I'm going to get done.

"If Blake isn't feeding you or getting you what you need, you tell me," Angela says seriously. "I'll come over here and smack his butt into gear." Blake winces at the sound of his mother charging over.

"I'll lock the door before she leaves," whispers Blake, an amused expression plastered on his face.

"You look after my Paris, Blake Rivers," she scolds.

"Mum, we're not calling the baby, Paris." For a brief moment, Blake doesn't look like a young man with his child, but simply a teenager complaining about silly house rules.

"Why," she moans. "Paris is a beautiful name and it matches London."

"What if we're having a boy?" asks Blake.

"We're, hey?" Laughs Angela. "I didn't realise you were pregnant too." She crosses her arms over her chest and stares him down.

"You know what I mean." He frowns, annoyance ringing in his voice.

"There are no we in pregnancy. Certainly no we in the delivery room." Angela made her point and it's a very good one. We could pretend to be include by saying we, but at the end of the day, I'm the one carrying this baby and I'm the one who's going to give birth.

The thought of giving birth makes my insides churn and my privates hurt. Ugh, I'd never get around the idea of giving birth, no matter the prep work. I have a feeling you can never be ready for the pain and discomfort of pushing a baby out of your privates.

"Okay, it's time for Grandma to leave, say goodbye, London." Blake passes her over to Angela for a quick hug before placing her on the ground to play. I give Angela another awkward hug before she walks out of the house.

True to his word, Blake locks the door and closes the doors to the hallway to prevent her from seeing in.

"I thought she would never leave," grumbles Blake.

"That bad?" I chuckle.

"She's been living down my throat the moment I found out," he explains.

I could easily imagine Angela hovering around Blake, afraid he'll finally crack and break down. She did it when London was first born, always around and always helping. That's the thing with Angela, she has a strong sense of family. She'd never let anything happen to her family and she'd never let them think they're alone.

Which brings me to the topic of my parents. Where they there at the hospital when I was brought in? They didn't visit me in the hospital, which I didn't expect. I half expected my dad to stay away . . . work hours suck with hospital ones. I'd at least thought my mother would come and see me . . . but then again, what do you say?

"Naw, baby, that bad?" I tease. "Did she do your washing and cook you dinner?" I ask.

"Yes." He frowns.

"Your life sounds so hard Blake, how did you do it?"

Blake pouts and plops on the couch. He buries his face into the decorative cushion and grumbles some words into it.

"Does that mean Angela's making dinner tonight?" I ask as I walk to the couch.

"Give her five minutes and she'll be beating down the door with food," explains Blake.

"I'd much prefer your cooking." I grin.

Blake turns around and sits up so that I can lay beside him.

"Good answer, baby. I went to the shops and bought your favourite foods. What do you feel like for dinner?"

"A roast?" I grin, my stomach growling for a dish of roast meat and crunchy potatoes.

"Are you sure?" Blake screws his face up. "It's going to be awhile."

"Yes." I nod my head. "Paris and I really want a roast." I rub my tummy to get the point across.

Blake rolls his eyes and grins. "Fine, roast it is."

Before Blake gets off the couch to cook dinner, I snuggle up to his body and rest my head against his chest. I listen to the sound of his heartbeat and relax. Blake wraps his arms around my body, one hand resting on my baby bump.

"Hm, this feels like home," I murmur.

"I'm glad your home." He kisses the top of my head and grins.

Despite the tired look plaguing his body, I see the happiness shining through his green eyes. Accidents don't always need to embark fear but be a small reminder that life is such a precious gift, and that we should celebrate each day as if it's our last.

How do you think Ava will react to Blake's tif with her parents?