Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
NOELLE
Steph arrives.
She’s Matt’s childhood best friend and I have to admit, jealousy clogs my throat. “I brought the chips,” she cackles as she flashes a contagious smile. “It’s a perfect time to play. Who’s in?”
Matt says, “After the shower, we’ll play for quarters.”
“Come on, Matt. We’re adults. Let’s up the ante.”
“I don’t think I should let you take my girlfriend’s money the first time you meet her.”
They tell a million stories from middle school and high school and how she would wreck every hookup he had. I like this woman. Shelley and his mom explain to me when they can’t because they’re laughing nonstop.
I never had a friend like that. I was always friends with guys, but I never had one special best friend. I hope my son is like Matt.
The baby shower feels like a celebration and a victory lap rolled into one.
Everyone wears a mask, except for me. My doctor doesn’t want me to wear one. I love her because she’s sensible. But Matt’s eyes are bright, his posture stronger than it’s been in weeks.
He stands off to the side with Greyson, J.D., and Parker, all of them balancing plates piled high with brunch food like it’s a competitive sport, lowering their masks when they shovel food into their mouths.
“Winning streak,” Greyson says, shaking his head. “Maybe we should keep you virtual.”
Matt chuckles. “Don’t get used to it.”
J.D. grins. “I don’t know. The team’s doing great. You sure you want to mess with the chemistry?”
“Stop needling my boyfriend.” I nudge Greyson’s arm.
Greyson laughs. “Hear that? Boyfriend.”
I roll my eyes. Surely they’re used to our status by now. I know they are, but my brothers love to tease. The smiles between them. I'm not sure if I should be happy or fearful.
I feel a prank coming.
Once Clara shows up and I make introductions, everyone piles their plates high—Texas Twinkies, grilled chicken dippers, zucchini fries, fruit, and way too many desserts. The room hums with excitement and anticipation of the baby to come.
Matt clears his throat. The conversation fades.
He reaches for my hand and draws me beside him. My heart starts racing.
“I’m not great at speeches,” he says, his voice steady but soft. “But I’m great at knowing when something matters.”
He turns to me. “Noelle, you came into my life when I wasn’t looking for anything. You made me laugh. You challenged me. You taught me how to love when I didn’t think I was allowed to anymore.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it.
“You gave me a family,” he continues. “You gave me a future. And you’re giving me the greatest gift of my life.”
He drops to one knee.
The room gasps as he opens the box. Inside is a ring—an oval center stone, flanked by diamonds shaped like butterfly wings.
“Butterfly,” he says softly. “Will you marry me?”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can only nod and whisper, “Yes.” I break into tears. So happy. So fulfilled. I’m in disbelief that he managed to pull this off while recovering from a transplant.
“How?”
“I’m capable of online shopping and emailing the jeweler to give you a ring as unique as you. Your brother picked it up for me.”
We kiss like no one is in the room, and when we part, the room erupts—cheers, tears, applause. He slides the ring onto my finger, stands, and kisses me like this moment is etched into his bones.
When the congratulatory hugs are finished, I open gifts. A hand-knit blanket from Birdie. A framed family tree print from Sutton. Tiny boots from Paulina with a note that says for my first little buddy boy.
My producers and colleagues sent a huge chenille basket full of clothes, baby toiletries, toys, and teethers with a gift card.
Matt bends to grab the next bag and begins to sway.
“Matt?”
He crumples in slow motion.
The room explodes into chaos. Someone calls 911. Greyson drops to his knees beside him. I’m frozen, my heart pounding so loud I can’t hear myself scream his name.
The paramedics move fast. Blood pressure cuff. IV. Calm voices over panic.
“His blood pressure is dangerously low,” one of them says. “We’re stabilizing him now.”
Matt’s eyes flutter open. He looks at me, pain and sorrow flooding his gaze.
“I can’t do this to you,” he whispers. “To you and the baby. It’s too much.”
And then they wheel him away.
And everything I thought we had secured slips through my fingers.