Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Several months later…
I rene’s entire body shook with exhaustion, her muscles quivering from the sheer effort of bringing her child into the world. A thin sheen of sweat clung to her skin, and the sterile scent of the hospital room mixed with the comforting warmth of Barrett’s hand wrapped tightly around hers. She felt like she had been pushing for hours, her body wrung dry, her energy nearly spent—but she couldn’t stop now. Not when the finish line was so close.
“Give me one more good push, Irene!”
Dr. Pierce’s voice was firm but encouraging, the same reassurance she had given her through every agonizing contraction.
She clenched her jaw, gripping Barrett’s hand as if it were the only thing tethering her to the earth. Then, with every ounce of strength she had left, she bore down, her body straining against the overwhelming pressure. It was unbearable. It was consuming. And yet, through it all, she held onto one thought—this baby, her baby, was almost here.
Beside her, Barrett never let go.
He was her rock, just as he had been through all of this—through the unexpected marriage, through the months of whispered conversations at night, through every moment of doubt and every silent fear. They had agreed long ago that they would do this together, even though the child she carried wasn’t biologically his. From the moment he had placed his hand over her belly and felt the baby move for the first time, he had claimed this child as his own, and she loved him all the more for it.
“We’re almost there,” Dr. Pierce urged, her voice edged with quiet excitement. “One more push.”
Irene’s head fell back against the pillow, her breath ragged, her vision swimming. She wanted to believe the woman. She really did, but she had been hearing that same phrase for what felt like an eternity.
“You said that three pushes ago,” she gritted out, frustration flashing through her exhaustion as she turned her head to Barrett, searching his gaze for strength. His eyes, warm and steady, met hers. There was no fear in them, no hesitation—only love, only unwavering belief.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but he heard her.
“…Tired.”
His grip on her hand tightened, grounding her. “I know, Troll Doll. I know you are,” he murmured, his voice tender yet firm, the way it always was when she needed him to be strong. He leaned in slightly, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead with his free hand. “But like you tell me sometimes—the buzzer hasn’t signaled yet. Push through it.”
She let out a weak, breathless chuckle. “I’m an idiot.”
Barrett huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the smartest woman I know—and you’ve got this.”
Her heart twisted at his words, but before she could reply, Dr. Pierce spoke again.
“Last push.”
Irene nearly growled. She had heard that lie one too many times. “Can you quit with the ‘last push’—because it’s not!”
The doctor only chuckled. “Every push could be the last push.”
Gritting her teeth, Irene bore down one final time, her entire body trembling with the force of it. A searing, stretching sensation spread through her, sharp and unrelenting, and then—relief. A sudden shift, a release, as the pressure lifted from her body.
The moment stretched endlessly.
Then, the sound of a baby’s first wail cut through the air, raw and new, filling the room with life.
Barrett’s laughter—deep, joyful, and utterly undone—broke through her haze, and before she could fully process it, he was wrapping his arms around her, pressing his forehead against hers as his body shook with emotion. She had never heard him like this before, never seen him so open, so vulnerable. His joy was a thing of beauty, and it made her heart ache in the best possible way.
Then, a weight was placed against her chest - small, warm, and theirs .
Irene gasped, tears springing to her eyes as she looked down at the squalling infant in her arms. Her heart, already so full, swelled impossibly larger. Tiny fists flailed, a scrunched-up face already showing fierce determination, and a soft, downy head of brown hair nestled beneath her chin.
“Ohhh… oh my goodness, sweet pea,” she wept, unable to contain the overwhelming love that crashed over her like a tidal wave. She lifted her gaze to Barrett, her vision blurred with tears. “It’s a baby girl…”
Barrett let out a breathless laugh, his face split with an expression of pure wonder. “Stephen’s gonna be mad.”
Irene let out a watery chuckle. “He’ll get over it.”
“I’m kidding.” His voice was thick, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to stroke their daughter’s tiny head. The baby fussed, letting out a soft, disgruntled cry, and Barrett’s entire face softened. “I think Stephen’s going to be an amazing big brother,” he murmured, awe in his voice. “And he’ll be so protective of his little sister.”
“I think so, too.”
A quiet moment passed between them, one filled with so much love it was almost too much to hold.
“What did you want to call her?” Barrett asked, his voice gentle.
Irene sniffled, brushing a fingertip against the baby’s impossibly soft cheek. “We talked about so many names over the last few months—I don’t know anymore.” She looked up at him. “What did you think we should call her?”
Barrett studied their daughter for a long moment, his thumb running softly over her tiny fist and then touching the faint tuft of hair on her head almost reverently. “How about Heather?” he suggested.
Irene barely had time to reply before their daughter latched onto her breast with a ferocity that had her flinching in surprise.
Barrett blinked, his mouth falling open in exaggerated shock. “Never mind—how about Jaws Heather Coeur.”
The unexpectedness of it made Irene laugh, a real, full-bodied laugh despite the exhaustion weighing her down - and the baby flung her arms open in surprise at her bark of laughter. Irene’s eyes shot to Barrett’s as he smiled in awareness and silent understanding. Heather was responding to sounds, which meant she could hear them. Stephen never did that motion unless it was a visual stimulant, but Heather heard her laugh… and Irene thought her heart would burst with relief.
“Troll Doll, Dumpster Fire, and Jaws,” she mused, smiling down at their baby girl. She rested her head against Barrett’s shoulder, shaking with the overwhelming emotion within her. “Stephen is gonna be jealous that he doesn’t have a nickname.”
“Nahh, no need to be—he’s my buddy and has the best nickname of all.”
She arched a brow, her heart brimming with affection. “Oh?”
Barrett leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Son.”
The word held so much meaning, so much promise. It was everything. Irene swallowed hard, emotion clogging her throat as she nodded.
“In fact,” Barrett continued, brushing a loving hand over their daughter’s head one last time, “I think I’ll go break the news to him when we’re done in here.”
Irene sighed contentedly, her heart overflowing. “I really appreciate Constance and Boucher watching him for the evening,” she murmured. “And I think it’s sweet how the team is learning a few phrases.”
Barrett grinned. “We all love him and think he’s going to be an incredible young man—and a Wolverine someday.”
Irene turned her face up to his, letting him see everything she felt, every unspoken word shining in her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. “Thank you for taking a chance on me—a chance on us.”
His expression softened, full of warmth, full of devotion.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I would do it all over again.”
Ready for more?
G et read to fall for our handsome goalie as he navigates his own marriage of convenience with the one person he never imagined - his sister’s best friend.
Except things won’t be that easy.
(They never are!)
See, Laurel is the guardian for her younger sister, Kendall, who hates his guts on sight and he’s got to keep this all under wraps while trying to hang on to his career.
Dustin Lafreniére is next…
When love, secrets, and family collide, they’ll have to find a way for their sudden marriage to appear believable – for all their sakes.