Epilogue
Noah
“Noah.”
I hear someone calling my name, the sound distant, pulling me from the depths of sleep. Then, a hand presses on my shoulder, shaking me. At first, it’s gentle, but the urgency in the touch snaps my brain into awareness.
“Noah,” Josy’s voice is tight, laced with fear.
My eyes flutter open, and I turn to look at her. The dim moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminates her face, and what I see makes my stomach drop.
Her eyes are wide, glistening with panic.
“What’s wrong?” My voice cracks as I bolt upright, adrenaline flooding my veins.
Josy swallows hard, her lips trembling as she whispers, “I think my water just broke.”
For a split second, my brain short-circuits. Then I snap into action.
I blink at her, my eyes widening so much they feel like they’ll pop out of my skull. “Your water—What? Now?”
Josy nods, her hands clutching her stomach as her breathing quickens.
I scramble to turn on the bedside lamp, the light flooding the room instantly. My gaze darts to the bed, and sure enough, the sheets are soaked.
“Oh shit,” I blurt, throwing the covers off. “Okay. Okay. This is fine. We’ve got this. I’ve got this.”
I jump out of bed, my feet barely touching the ground as I dart around the room, grabbing whatever my panicked brain can think of: her hospital bag, my keys, my phone. I nearly trip over my shoes in the process.
“Noah!” Josy’s voice snaps me out of my frenzy.
I freeze mid-step and turn to look at her. She’s sitting up, her hand gripping the edge of the bed, her face still etched with worry but now tinged with a glimmer of amusement at my expense.
“Can you get dressed and then help me do the same? We can’t exactly walk into the hospital like this,” she says, pointing at her wet pajamas and then at my body.
I glance down and realize I’m only wearing boxers.
“Oh, right. Yeah. Of course.”
I rush back to her side, fumbling through the drawer for something comfortable for her to wear. My hands are shaking so badly I almost drop the dress I grab. Once Josy is ready, I dart across the room to grab the nearest pair of jeans and a shirt from the first drawer I find.
Grabbing socks and my tennis shoes, I drop to the floor to put them on, my fingers fumbling with the laces in my hurry. As soon as I’m done, I rush back to Josy’s side of the bed to help her to her feet.
When I catch her wincing, my panic flares again. “Are you okay? Are you in pain? How close are the contractions?”
Josy shakes her head, her voice calm despite everything. “I’m okay for now. But we should hurry.”
I nod, my heart pounding in my chest as I help her into her clothes. My brain is on overdrive, cataloging every step we need to take. Car keys. Bag. Get to the hospital. Call the doctor.
“We’re having a baby,” I say out loud, the reality crashing down on me.
Josy looks up at me then, her fear softening into something else entirely. Her hand reaches out to touch my cheek, her voice gentle. “Yes, we are.”
Grabbing her hospital bag, I loop it over my shoulder, guide Josy toward the door, and help her down the stairs. Every instinct in me screams to rush, to go faster, but I force myself to match her pace.
When we reach the car, I open the door for Josy, helping her inside before sprinting to the driver’s seat.
“Hold on,” I say, starting the car and gripping the wheel tightly.
Josy laughs softly, the sound soothing my frazzled nerves. “You’re doing great, Noah. Just get us there in one piece.”
I glance at her, my heart swelling even in the middle of all this chaos. “You’re the one doing great, Josy. Let’s meet our baby girl.”
I look at the clock on the dashboard and see that it’s only one in the morning. “Should I call the doctor? Violet? Your mom? My mom?” I ask Josy.
“Yes. Call the doctor first, then my mom and your mom. And lastly, Violet. I know they’ll all want to be there when Everly arrives.”
I nod and start making the calls, my hands shaking as I fumble with my phone. Once I’ve informed all the women in our lives that we’re on our way to the hospital, I take a deep, calming breath and refocus on driving.
The forty-five-minute drive feels like an eternity.
Josy’s contractions come every five minutes, and each one makes my chest tighten.
I hate seeing her in pain, wishing there were something I could do to make it easier.
I settle for breathing with her through each contraction, hoping it helps, even if just a little.
When we finally reach the hospital, I park as close to the emergency room entrance as possible. “Wait here. I’ll grab a wheelchair,” I tell her as I shut the car door.
I sprint to the entrance, rushing straight to the nurse’s station. “I’m having a baby!” I blurt out, barely catching my breath.
The nurse smiles knowingly, guides me to a wheelchair, and I dash back to Josy. Once she’s settled in the chair, I push her back to the emergency room where the same nurse is already waiting. She guides us through a maze of hallways until we reach the maternity ward.
The nurses work quickly, wheeling Josy into a room and preparing her. They help her change into a hospital gown and place bands on her belly to monitor the baby. Not long after, a doctor comes in to check how far along she is.
“Mom, you’re about five centimeters. This baby is coming soon. Do you want an epidural?” the doctor asks Josy.
“Yes, please,” Josy replies, her voice a mix of determination and exhaustion.
“Okay, I’ll get that ordered and also call your OB to see how far she is from the hospital,” the doctor says before leaving the room.
Five hours have passed, and I’ve had to watch the woman I love endure unimaginable pain. She was supposed to receive an epidural, but the anesthesiologist still hasn’t arrived. Josy has transformed from the loving woman I know, into a fierce force of nature. She’s part warrior, part monster.
Our mothers and Violet are here, waiting anxiously. The doctor has been checking on Josy every hour, but now, after all the waiting, it’s finally time for her to push.
I hold one of Josy’s hands in mine, squeezing it gently, trying to offer whatever encouragement I can. “You’re doing amazing, Josy. Just a little more,” I whisper, my voice calm despite the chaos around us.
But the monster within her surfaces again, and she turns her fury toward me. “Noah, I need you to stay quiet!” she snaps between gasps.
“This is all your fault!” she yells, her voice rising with another contraction.
“Why did I let you do this to me?” Her voice breaking and a sob escapes as another wave of pain hits her.
I don’t take any of it to heart. I know she’s in agony, and if I could, I’d take her pain in a heartbeat. But right now, all I can do is stay by her side and be strong for her.
Watching her labor, seeing her strength, is nothing short of a miracle. She’s doing something extraordinary, and I feel both helpless and in awe. The room feels heavy with tension, filled with muffled cries and the quiet encouragement of the nurses. Time seems to stretch, every second dragging on.
After what feels like an eternity but is really just five pushes, the room fills with the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard—the cry of our baby.
Relief washes over me as Josy collapses back against the bed, tears streaming down her face.
I can’t stop looking at the wriggly baby being placed on Josy’s chest. She’s so tiny, with a full head of dark hair and pale, delicate skin.
My chest tightens as a wave of emotions crashes over me.
As soon as Everly is placed on Josy’s chest, she stops crying.
It’s as if she knows she’s finally with her mom.
I lean down and kiss Josy’s cheek, my lips lingering as I try to ground myself in this moment.
Josy turns to me with a big smile, and the monster from a few minutes ago is gone, replaced with the woman I love.
Her joy is contagious, and before I know it, tears are streaming down my face too.
She places her forehead against mine, wiping away my tears with her free hand.
“You did a great job, sweetheart,” I whisper. With a trembling finger, I reach out and gently caress Everly’s cheek. “She’s perfect. Just like you.”
Josy’s smile widens, her eyes never leaving our daughter. “She looks just like you,” she says, her voice soft with awe.
“You think?” I ask, glancing between the two of them.
“Yes. Look at her hair and those puckered lips. And let’s not forget the obvious—she’s as pale as a sheet of paper. All her daddy.”
We both laugh quietly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and pure joy. Our laughter is interrupted by a sudden flash of light. I look up to see my mother, Josy’s mother, and Violet all crying while holding their phones. My expression must say it all because my mom chuckles softly.
“You two are adorable. We couldn’t help it. We needed to immortalize this amazing moment,” she says.
“You’ll thank us later. I recorded the whole thing,” Violet adds, her voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you, Vi,” Josy says, her gratitude genuine.
“Did you record the birth too?” she asks.
“Yes. You were a champ. I’d almost forgotten how hard it is to give birth. Now I have to mentally prepare for when this little one comes,” Violet says, placing a hand on her own belly.
“True. But hopefully your epidural comes in time,” Josy responds with a teasing smile.
“I’m so sorry you had to suffer through all that,” I say, guilt lacing my words.
“It was worth it,” Josy whispers, her gaze fixed on Everly. Her voice carries a mix of exhaustion and wonder that makes my heart swell.
“We’ll go out and talk to everyone outside. They’ve been very patient,” Josy’s mom says, ushering the others out and leaving the three of us alone.
Once it’s just us, I sit on the bed beside Josy and Everly, the weight of the moment sinking in. “I love you, Josy,” I say, my voice steady but full of emotion. Then I lean down, my lips close to Everly’s ear. “I love you too, my princess.”
At my words, Everly’s eyes flutter open for the first time. Her gaze meets mine, and I’m struck by the depth of her dark brown eyes. They’re just like Josy’s.
“Look at those beautiful eyes. They’re yours, sweetheart,” I say, her smile lighting up the room.
“At least she got that from me,” Josy says with a grin.
I look into Josy’s eyes, the love I feel for her overwhelming.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I whisper, “Marry me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Everly, and any other baby we can make in the future. It’s always been you, Josy, and I don’t want to spend another second without you having my name. ”
Josy’s smile softens, and tears slip down her cheeks. I catch each one, my thumb brushing her skin gently. “Yes,” she whispers. “I will marry you. I love you.”
“I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you,” I say, sealing my words with a kiss.
The End