Epilogue
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
“Look who I brought,” I say quietly, pushing the heavy door open slowly. The hospital room is quiet, early afternoon sunlight filtering through the half-closed blinds across the room.
My beautiful wife is sitting up in the bed, and she smiles wide as the four of us trek inside. Dalton has a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and he sets them on the wide window ledge like I’d instructed before we came in. Penny is tip-toeing across the polished tile floor, being as quiet as she can, just like we’d rehearsed. The little hellion has chilled out—if only mildly—in the last year.
Thirteen-month-old Bea is in my arm, her short brown curls tied up into my best attempt at pigtails. Kent and Colleen follow us in, shrinking the room and filling it with a lot of whispered chatter. Before the door closes behind them, Scottie and Cal enter. I shake my head. I think we’re at capacity for this tiny room.
I step over to the side of the bed and lean down to press a tender kiss to my wife’s forehead. She tips her face up to me, a serene, content smile pulling at her lips. Goddamn, I have the most beautiful wife.
Bea reaches for her and I slide her off my arm slowly. “Okay, remember, we have to be very careful,” I whisper to the toddler. She settles against Teddy’s side, resting her head against the slope of her breast. “How are you feeling? I wasn’t gone for too long, was I?”
“Xander, you were gone for less than an hour. I’m okay,” she laughs lightly, reaching out to stroke my cheek, her fingernails rasping against the thick stubble of my beard. I clasp her hand in mine and bring her fingers to my lips, kissing them tenderly. Fuck I love this woman. “Rowan and Vi came up while you were gone to sit with me and meet the baby.”
We both peer down at our newborn daughter, Spencer Leigh Macomb, swaddled and happily sleeping in my wife’s other arm. Penny tugs at my shirt and I bend over to lift her up gently, setting her on the edge of the hospital bed. She leans over the baby, oohing almost silently.
My heart is so fucking full. Dalton hangs back, and I step over to him. “Do you want to go look?”
“Can I hold her?” he asks, looking up at me. I look over at Teddy, who nods with a smile.
“Okay, Champ, in that chair. Let me grab this pillow—” I say, swiping the pillow I’d used the night before off the little foldaway bed in the corner of the room. I get him situated, and then move to lift my newborn daughter out of Teddy’s arm. I press a kiss to the pink hat that covers her dark head of hair—to which we can thank for all of Teddy’s hellacious heartburn the last few months—and then carefully lower her into the cradle of Dalton’s arm, supported by the pillow. “Good job, man. Such a natural.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ve done this before.”
I chuckle lightly, nodding as I sink into a crouch beside him. Kent, Colleen, Cal, and Scottie have convened on Teddy, leaving just Dalton and I with the baby. I watch my step-son as his brown eyes move over his new little sister reverently.
“She’s cute,” he says, and I have to agree. Teddy did a damn good job.
And we didn’t have to have an emergency home birth, thank God, though all the guys had made sure to text me to remind me of my alternate career now that I’ve retired from being a hotshot. This birth was completely uneventful, to which I’m eternally grateful. I’m not entirely sure I could have been quite so calm and collected this go around.
Cal had more than earned his place as superintendent and had proven to be just as fair and demanding of a leader as I’d hoped he would. He made Rowan captain shortly after, and I can’t pretend I’m not damn proud of both of them. Forever my brothers.
That part of me that had struggled with feeling bound by duty to the job has faded over the last year. I guess because now I’ve got something that I view as the most important job I’ll ever have in my life. Something I feel fucking honored to have been given the chance to do.
Being a husband and a father. Watching all of my kids grow—because Teddy’s are just as much mine now—is the best thing ever. Spending every single day with the love of my life and knowing she’s the one I get to climb into bed with every night. The one I get to make love to and prove that my love for her and this family is steadfast and unwavering.
We had moved out of the duplex—both apartments—and had found a home down the street from Cal and Scottie. We have a yard big enough for the kids to play in—with no creek running behind it, thank god—and room for our growing family. Glancing over at Teddy, I’m not at all ashamed to admit I’d love nothing more than to add at least one more to our family… when she’s ready, of course.
While we were unpacking at the new house, Teddy had quietly offered to leave the photos of Logan boxed up, but I’d pulled her into my arms and told her no. Dalton and Penny—and someday Bea, too—need to have those reminders of where they’d come from. The love Teddy and I have, this life we’ve taken the chance on, isn’t threatened or diminished by the life she had with Logan. I know that, now. And they deserve to know who he was and how loved they were by both of them. Our wedding picture now sits side by side with the one of a very young Teddy and Logan from so long ago. These kids will always know how much they’re loved by us, too.
“Xander?” Dalton whispers, catching my attention. I shift on my haunches and look up at him.
“Yeah, Champ?”
“Will this baby get to call you Dad?” he asks, his voice quiet so that no one else can hear.
I nod, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Yeah, she will.”
“Oh,” he says, nodding, looking back down at the baby before raising his eyes to mine. “Do you think it would be okay if we call you Dad, too?”
I glance over the arm of the chair, where I can see Teddy. Her focus is on us, and I have a feeling she heard the conversation, because her eyes are shining with tears. My chest seizes as I return my gaze to Dalton.
“You know, Champ, I would be honored if you wanted to call me Dad,” I somehow manage to whisper around the lump that’s lodged in my throat.
As I look over at my wife again, I think back to that letter from my dad, and like to think that he’d be damn proud of the life that I’ve got now.
Because I found that once in a lifetime love… and I’m holding on fiercely with both hands.