Epilogue
CHARLIE
“ I swear to god, if you don’t find a way to make this baby teleport out of me right now, I’m going to shove your entire hockey stick collection up your nose!”
I should have been prepared for it but every time a contraction hit I flinched. Her face was flushed, hair plastered to her forehead with sweat as she gripped my hand so tightly I thought my bones might snap.
“I don’t think that’s physically possible, love.” I immediately regretted my words as her grip on my hand tightened to bone-crushing levels.
“Don’t you dare ‘love’ me, you overgrown maple syrup guzzler!”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as the beeping of the monitors filled the room. Emma’s face contorted in pain again, and I felt utterly helpless.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” There were breathing techniques for this, weren’t there? Wasn’t that what we’d spent weeks practising in those annoying birthing classes? “Just breathe, Em. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
She fixed me with a glare that could melt steel. “Don’t you dare tell me to breathe, you overgrown tree of a man. This is all your fault!”
“You’re right, it’s all my fault.” I nodded frantically, agreeing with everything she said. “I’m a terrible person. Just focus on your breathing, okay? Just breathe.”
“Breathe? Breathe?!” Emma’s voice rose an octave. “I’m trying to push a watermelon out of my vagina because of your stupid, giant genes!”
“Okay, okay!” I held up my free hand in surrender. “No more breathing. Got it.”
Behind me, my sister and Emma’s best friend both failed to suppress their laughter. I glanced over my shoulder, levelling my own glare at the pair of them. They stared back at me, both red-faced and shaking with mirth.
“You’re so screwed,” Veronica mouthed.
“This isn’t funny,” I snapped at them.
“Oh, but it is.” Veronica wiped tears from her eyes.
I opened my mouth to snap at her, but Emma’s scream cut me off. Another contraction hit, and her grip on my hand tightened impossibly further.
“Oh god,” she moaned. “Why did I let you talk me into a natural birth? I hate you. I hate you and your stupidly tall genes.”
“I know, I know,” I soothed, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth. The smell of antiseptic mixed with sweat filled my nostrils. “You can have all the drugs you want next time, I promise.”
Emma’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Next time? You think there’s going to be a next time after this? You’re delusional!”
I loved her.
Emma flopped back against the pillows, exhausted. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.”
My heart clenched at the defeat in her voice. I leaned in close, pressing my forehead to hers. “Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.”
“That’s utter bullshit. I could be Iron Woman and I’d still struggle to get your kid out of me.” She glared at me. “Your mother told me you were a ten-pound baby. Why didn’t you warn me I was in for a giant?”
I chuckled nervously. “Hey, maybe our kid will take after your side of the family. Nice and petite.”
Another contraction hit, and Emma’s face contorted in pain. “I swear to god, Charlie, if this baby is over eight pounds, I’m never letting you touch me again!”
Lila snorted from her position by Emma’s other side. “Yeah, right. Like you two can keep your hands off each other for more than five minutes.”
“Shut up, Lila.” Emma directed her glare at her best friend. “You could have stopped this too.”
“As if.” Lila scoffed. “You were set in your ways before you even called me, bitch. Direct all of that energy at your baby daddy.”
“Thanks, Lila. Appreciate the support,” I muttered sardonically.
“Any time,” she threw back with a sunny smile.
I ignored her and focused on Emma. She was breathing hard, but the contraction had passed, for the moment.
Staring into her eyes, the room faded away, and it was just us. I whispered praises to her, encouraging her. All the while I cursed my mother. I’d known going to see her instead of calling would be a bad idea, but I’d let Emma talk me into a trip to Ontario.
The damn woman had broken out the baby albums, albums I was shocked to learn she still had. I’d always assumed the maternal bone had skipped her and in the end I’d kind of wished it had.
Emma had taken one look at newborn me and freaked the fuck out. And understandably so when my mother backed the pictures up with a gruesome account of my birth and the number of stitches she’d needed afterwards.
She’d taken to Emma with ease though, falling in love with her almost as fast as I had.
Another contraction hit, and her grip on my hand tightened again. I swore I heard something crack.
“Jesus Christ on a hockey stick!” I yelped, trying to pry my fingers loose. “Em, love, I need that hand.”
“Oh, you need that hand?” Emma’s eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you?”
I opened my mouth to respond but thought better of it. Veronica and Lila burst into another fit of giggles.
“Some support you two are,” I muttered.
“Oh, we’re supporting,” Lila said, wiping tears from her eyes. “We’re supporting our own entertainment. This is better than any reality TV show.”
I turned back to Emma, whose face was flushed and damp with sweat. Her hair clung to her forehead in dark tendrils, and I brushed them away gently.
“You’re doing great, love,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Remember what the instructor said about visualising? Picture yourself on a beach or something.”
Her grip on my hand loosened slightly as the contraction passed. Her eyes flashed with a mix of pain and irritation. “Are you kidding me? The only thing I’m visualising is punting you into the Pacific Ocean.”
I chuckled, the sound thready with nerves. “Okay, no beaches. How about this — it’ll all be over soon, and we’ll get to meet our baby. Don’t you want to know if it’s Prue or Liam?”
Her eyes softened for a moment, a flicker of excitement breaking through the pain. “Hell, yes.”
Utter pride welled inside of me. How someone as flaky and selfish as her aunt Ginny could raise someone like Emma, I had no clue.
I’d spent weeks convincing her to introduce us and break the news and I’d ended up wishing I’d never bothered. My blood boiled just remembering it.
We’d video called her to break the news about the baby. Ginny had barely reacted, just shook her head and lamented that she thought she’d taught her better. She’d gone on about how Emma’s parents’ genes must have been too strong for her to influence Emma towards a “childfree and carefree life.” The whole interaction had amused Emma, but it had left me fuming.
The next few hours passed in a blur of contractions, encouragement, and more creative insults than I thought possible. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, the doctor announced it was time to push.
With one final, ear-splitting scream from Emma, our child entered the world. The room filled with the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard — our baby’s first cry.
“Congratulations,” the doctor beamed, holding up our squalling, squirming infant. “It’s a girl!”
My jaw dropped. A girl. We had a daughter.
The nurses quickly cleaned her up and wrapped her in a soft blanket before placing her in my arms. My world shifted on its axis as I took in her tiny, scrunched-up face. She was perfect — all red and wrinkly and absolutely beautiful.
“Hi Prue,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. “I’m your dad.”
Tears blurred my vision as I gazed at our daughter. I was overwhelmed with love, fear, and a fierce protectiveness I’d never experienced before. I’d do anything for this tiny human.
I caught Emma’s tired but joyful gaze and smiled. “Em, she’s perfect.”
As I placed our daughter in Emma’s arms, I couldn’t help but think how wrong I’d been about everything. All my fears about fatherhood, about not being ready, about messing things up — they seemed to melt away as I watched Emma cradle our little girl.
EMMA
“Welcome to the world, Prue Delacroix,” I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to our daughter’s forehead.
I cradled Prue against my chest, marvelling at her tiny features. Her button nose, her rosebud lips, her impossibly small fingers. How had Charlie and I created something so perfect?
Just nine months ago, we’d been strangers.
Now, here we were, a family.
The thought made me chuckle. If someone had told me at Abi’s wedding that the clumsy guy who knocked over my champagne tower would end up being the father of my child, I’d have laughed in their face.
But life has a funny way of surprising you.
“She’s absolutely beautiful, Em.” Lila leaned in for a closer look. “Can I hold her?”
I hesitated for a moment, surprised by how reluctant I was to let Prue go. But I nodded, carefully transferring her into Lila’s arms.
“Support her head,” I said.
Lila rolled her eyes but complied. “I’ve held babies before, you know. I won’t break her.”
“She’s not just any baby. She’s my baby. And she’s perfect.”
Veronica laughed, peering over Lila’s shoulder. “She really is. Good job, you two. You make cute kids.”
Lila carefully handed the newborn over to Veronica. “Hey there, little niece,” she cooed. “I’m your Aunt V. When you want to kick ass and take names, you come to me, okay, kid? I’ve got you.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper while she smirked at Charlie. “And when you want to wrap your daddy around your little finger, I’m all ears.”
Lila snorted. “Please, this kid’s already got Charlie whipped. Did you see his face when she was born? Total goner.”
“Like you’re any better.” I crossed my arms and stared at Lila with a raised brow. “I saw those tears.”
“Allergies,” Lila said dismissively, but her voice was thick with emotion. She took Prue back from Veronica. “Oh, sweetie. Aunt Lila’s going to make sure you know how to wrap all the boys around your little finger. Unlike your mom, who needed your dad to literally knock her up before she made a move.”
“Lila!” I gasped, torn between laughter and outrage. “She’s only an hour old!”
“Never too early to start learning the important things in life,” Lila winked.
I shook my head, amused that Prue already had a fan club.
Charlie cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Hey, V, Lila... I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I was just stressed and?—”
“Don’t sweat it, big guy.” Lila waved him off. “It was a tense experience. We get it.”
Veronica, however, grinned. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easy. I’m holding this over your head for at least a year. Maybe two.”
As they bickered good-naturedly, I caught Charlie’s eye. “Don’t think you’re getting an apology from me, mister. You deserved every word.”
To my surprise, he just laughed. “I know, love. I’d expect nothing less.”
He knew? What the fuck?
Before I could question that declaration, the door swung open, and a familiar figure strode in. My jaw dropped.
“Aunt Ginny?”
Charlie tensed, his expression darkening. “What are you doing here?”
Ginny raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his hostility. “I was invited, wasn’t I? I got Emma’s message.”
“Yeah, but—” Charlie sputtered, caught off guard. “We didn’t think you’d actually come.”
I squeezed his hand, silently urging him to calm down. “It’s okay, handsome.”
Ginny approached the bed, her eyes fixed on Prue. For a moment, she just stood there, studying our daughter’s face. Then, to my utter shock, she smiled.
“She’s beautiful, Em,” she said, her voice gruff but sincere. “You did good, kid.”
I blinked back tears, overwhelmed by the unexpected praise. “Thanks. Do you want to hold her?”
Ginny hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said firmly.
I glanced up at Charlie, silently pleading with him to understand. This was important to me, even if I couldn’t fully explain why.
He hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded, squeezing my hand in support.
Ginny looked between us, then back at Prue. “If you’re certain...”
“I am,” I insisted, even as a small voice in the back of my mind questioned why I needed this so badly.
But as Lila carefully transferred Prue into Ginny’s arms, I pushed those doubts aside. This was about family, however complicated and messy it might be. And maybe, just maybe, it was about second chances, too.
I watched in amazement as Ginny held Prue with a mixture of awe and trepidation on her face. This was the woman who had always kept me at arm’s length, who had dismissed my pregnancy like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. Yet she cradled my daughter like she was the most precious thing in the world.
The room fell silent. Charlie stood tense beside me, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts. I knew that look — it was his ‘about to go into full protective mode’ face. Sure enough, he cleared his throat, breaking the spell.
“So, Ginny,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “Care to explain your sudden interest in our family? Last I checked, you weren’t exactly thrilled about this whole situation.”
Oh boy. Here we go.
I braced myself for the fireworks.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t thrilled. But I was wrong.”
She looked up at me, her eyes shining with unexpected emotion. “I’m proud of you, Emma. You’re stronger than I ever was. You’ve built a life for yourself, found love, created this beautiful little person. You’ve done everything I was too scared to do.”
I blinked, stunned. Was this really happening? Or was I hallucinating from the post-birth hormones?
“I love you,” Ginny continued, her voice thick. “I know I’ve never been good at showing it, but I do. I knew I’d never be a fit parent myself, but you... you’re going to be amazing at this.”
Charlie’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. I tuned out. I only had eyes for Prue, still nestled in Ginny’s arms. She was oblivious to the emotional minefield around her, content in her post-birth slumber.
I’d always prided myself on my independence, worn it like a badge of honour. But now, looking at my daughter, I saw the truth. I hadn’t been independent — I’d been neglected.
Well, not this time. Between Lila, Charlie, and his family, we had all the support we needed. Our daughter would grow up surrounded by love, supported from all sides. She’d never doubt her place in the world or her worth.
As if sensing my thoughts, Lila appeared at my side. “Want her back?” she asked softly.
I nodded, desperate to hold my daughter again. Lila expertly extracted Prue from Ginny’s arms and placed her in mine. That newborn smell hit me, and my entire body relaxed.
“Hey there, trouble,” I whispered, nuzzling her soft cheek. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t you? Seven months of nausea, thirty-six hours of labour, and now you’ve got the whole room wrapped around your tiny finger. You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”
“Speaking of handfuls.” Charlie slid himself onto the edge of my bed and lay down beside me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Remember when you promised me two more of these?”
I shot him a glare that could have melted steel. “Oh, we are so renegotiating that deal, mister. The factory is closed for renovations after a giant baby destroyed it.”
He laughed. “Alright, alright. We’ll talk about it later.”
But I caught the look in his eyes. The one that screamed ‘challenge accepted’. Something told me he was already plotting to up the ante to four kids, probably googling whether twins ran in his family.
I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. What had I gotten myself into? I stared down at Prue, and I knew the answer.
The best kind of trouble.