Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
LILY
The coffee maker gurgles to life as I adjust Sophia higher on my chest, her tiny fist curled against the soft fabric of the baby carrier. Two months old and she’s already got me wrapped around her finger. She lets out the softest sigh, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“I know, sweetheart. It’s so hard being a baby.
” I press my lips to her downy head, breathing in that perfect newborn smell that makes my heart feel like it might burst right out of my chest. When I found out I was pregnant, my natural inclination was to figure out who the dad was, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I don’t want to know.
To me, and hopefully to our baby girl, the guys are all equally her fathers.
Heavy footsteps echo across the hardwood, and Hudson appears first, his hair still messy from sleep. Gage follows, already dressed and ready, while Cole shuffles in wearing nothing but boxers and bedhead that somehow looks intentional.
“Ready for today?” Hudson asks, wrapping his arms around both Sophia and me from behind. His warmth seeps through my thin t-shirt.
I lean back against his chest. “I think so.” My fingers trace gentle circles on Sophia’s back. “Actually, no. I’m nervous as hell.”
Gage pours himself coffee and raises an eyebrow. “About your mom coming over?”
The knot in my stomach tightens. “The memory care center is bringing her with a nurse, but last time . . .” I trail off, remembering how Mom had looked right through me, asking where her daughter was while I stood two feet away.
Cole moves closer, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “Hey, today could be different.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” I adjust Sophia when she starts to fuss. “I just want her to meet the baby on a good day, you know? But I can’t get my hopes up.”
Hudson’s lips find the spot behind my ear. “Whatever happens, we’re here.”
The doorbell rings two hours later, right after we finish breakfast. My stomach does a complete flip. I press my hand against Sophia’s back like she’s my anchor.
“I got it.” Hudson heads toward the front door, and I hear the muffled voices of the nurse and . . .
“Lily? Oh my goodness, is that my granddaughter?”
My breath catches. That’s Mom’s voice, but clear. Aware. Present. Part of me feared it would be a bad day. She’s having more and more of those lately.
I round the corner with Sophia still strapped to my chest, and there she is. Mom’s standing in our entryway, her gray hair neatly combed, her eyes bright and focused. Really focused. On me.
Her gaze drops to the baby, and her hand flies to cover her mouth. “Oh my god. Lily, is this . . .”
My throat feels like someone’s squeezing it. “This is Sophia. Your granddaughter.”
Tears spill down Mom’s cheeks. She takes a tentative step forward. “Can I . . . would it be okay if I held her?”
My own happiness nearly chokes me. I can barely get my answer out. “Of course you can.”
We settle on the couch together, and I carefully transfer Sophia into Mom’s arms. She cradles her like she’s made of glass, tears streaming down her face as she studies every tiny feature.
“Hello, beautiful girl,” Mom whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m your grandma. I’m sorry it took me so long to properly meet you.”
Sophia stares up at Mom with that serious baby expression that always makes me laugh. But right now, I’m fighting back my own tears.
“Why are you crying, Mom?”
She looks up at me, and her smile could power the entire state. “Because I’m so happy I got to be here for this.” Her voice carries weight, like she knows how precious this moment is. How rare.
I wrap my arms around both of them, breathing in this perfect moment. “You’re always with us, Mom. No matter what kind of day it is.”
Mom’s grin widens. She looks down at Sophia again. “I like that thought.”
Cole appears with his phone, snapping photos while Gage and Hudson hover nearby, both wearing matching grins. The living room fills with soft conversation and laughter, and for the first time in months, everything feels exactly as it should be.
Mom spends the next hour telling Sophia stories about when I was little, her voice never wavering, her eyes never losing that spark of recognition. And when it’s time for her to go, she kisses Sophia’s forehead and whispers, “I love you, little one. Take care of your mama for me.”
As we watch the care center van pull away, I’m still holding Sophia, surrounded by my three guys, feeling like the luckiest woman alive. Some days are hard. Some days feel impossible. But today?
Today was perfect.
***
THE END