Epilogue — Jamie
SIX MONTHS LATER
Ithrust harder, enough to make the headboard clank against the wall.
My old apartment is vacant next door, so I don’t have to worry about a neighbor.
Even if it was occupied, I don’t really fucking care.
We’ve tried everything to help Aubrey go into labor—and home remedies like spicy foods just gave her heartburn.
We have sex four or five times a day, but it doesn’t seem to help, neither do long walks.
To be fair, most days five isn’t enough to satisfy her on a primal level.
I hate that she’s uncomfortable, and is days away from changing her birthing plan to induce labor at the hospital.
All because our daughter is happy where she is.
With Aubrey’s back flush to my chest, I tease her nipples, and her delicious moans fill the space.
She grips the back of my neck and pulls my lips to her the little space right before her shoulder.
I graze my teeth against her soft skin, and as much as she’s trying to coax me into biting or marking her, I don’t want her to have to explain it to the doctors if she does actually go into labor from this.
Her nipples peak under my fingertips, and in three deep strokes, her pussy flutters around my cock.
“Fuck,” she groans, and I continue the same pace to prolong her orgasm. “I need another.”
Aubrey never begs, but no matter how much I want to, I don’t let her win—at least not yet.
“Don’t rush. I want you to feel it all.” I don’t slow until her breathing evens out.
“Good girl. Just like that,” I praise, slipping my hand lower to play with her clit.
“All right, baby, now give me one more.” My feisty wife clamps her pussy around my cock, making me groan. “What are you up to, mama?”
“Nothing,” she sings. “Just practicing kegels while you’re inside me. It could help.”
“The only thing it will do is make me come.”
“Oh? Is that so?” She pulses around me in a steady rhythm.
I can’t hold on any longer, coming hard and fast as I fill her. With shallow thrusts, I give her every last drop. “Damn it.” I grunt against her shoulder. “How are we supposed to help you go into labor when you’re draining my dick before you come at least three times?”
As I pull out, she turns to face me. “We need to try something else. It doesn’t matter how much sex we have, this baby isn’t budging.”
“I know,” I sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Want to take a walk?”
“Let me get cleaned up first.” She kisses me softly, smiling against my lips. “Will you get Angel ready?”
“What? I don’t get to clean up?”
“Nah, you get to smell like me all day.” I nip at her bottom lip, and she chuckles, “Okay, fine, you win. You can also get cleaned up.”
We take a quick shower—which is really just an excuse for me to touch her—then I locate my kangaroo-pocket hoodie.
Angel hates the cold and will only last ten minutes outside if she’s not snuggled into me.
While Aubrey is getting dressed, I make a decaf coffee for her and a regular cup for myself.
I check the fridge to do a quick inventory of what we need at the store, and at some point, I’ll need to figure out lunch plans.
We head out, and as Aubrey slides her hand into mine, I kiss the tiny ant tattoo on her ring finger.
Ever since we got back from Vegas, I haven’t had to hide how I feel about her.
We have plans to get her a ring once Alanis is born, because she doesn’t want a diamond, she wants our daughter’s birthstone.
We picked out the setting, but since our daughter, Alanis, is as stubborn as her mother, she’s now going to be a December baby instead of late-November.
Aubrey surprised me with a solid wedding band the day we got back, and no one seemed to notice, except Isaac and Olivia. When we were in Vegas, I got a little red ant tattooed on my ring finger to match hers, but added the letter A beside it for my three girls: Aubrey, Angel, and Alanis.
No matter how badly I wanted to shout it to the world that Aubrey is my wife, we had to wait a while to leak that we’re married.
Ned ensured it was quiet and quickly buried in the news cycle.
It’s been freeing to not have to sneak around, but more than that, I love how I can proudly hold her hand or kiss her in public and don’t have to worry about it hurting anyone’s career.
We take a longer route to her favorite grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner tonight. As I’m grabbing a cart, she pins me with a glare. “You’re not going in there with Angel.”
“Why not?” I huff, and Angel barks in agreement. “See, she’s fine with it.”
“Jamie,” Aubrey warns, “she is a pet, not a service dog.”
“Look, I can just zip her up, and no one will ever know.”
She quirks an eyebrow. “No one will notice a hot, tattooed man with an out-of-place wiggling beer belly? Stay out here. I’ll only be a minute.”
Taking the cart from me, she walks inside, resuming her glare as I try to follow. She’s right, but I’m worried she might need help while in there alone.
Angel and I find a little bench and take a seat. Several women and a few kids spot Angel peeking out my hoodie and ask to pet her. I don’t mind because she truly is the most adorable pup.
As a mom and her daughter who can’t be older than five are scratching behind Angel’s ear, a man runs out of the store shouting, “Is there a Jamie Wilson out here?”
I sit up straighter. “That’s me.”
“Your wife. She, um… there’s been an incident.”
I’m off the bench so quickly I almost knock over the little girl and her mom. “Is she okay? What’s wrong?”
“We’re calling an ambulance for her, but she asked me to tell you to—”
I don’t care about the store policy and storm inside.
Aubrey’s in a chair by the registers, the cart beside her holding sourdough, two cans of soup, her favorite caramelized onion cheddar, and Gruyère.
I rush to her side, checking her over. Her leggings are damp, and I snap into action.
The plan has always been for me to drive her to the hospital, but our car is a mile away and I have Angel.
I take out my phone and call Olivia. While it rings, Aubrey chuckles, “Alanis picked an interesting time to surprise us.”
“Hello?” Olivia answers.
“Aubrey’s water broke. We’re at the grocery store on J Street, and I have Angel with me. Can you send a car?”
“Of course. Isaac and I will come get you ourselves and take care of Angel for you.”
“You’re the best. Thank you.” We hang up and Aubrey grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. “Olivia and Isaac are on their way,” I assure her.
I help Aubrey through her breathing exercises, and hand over my credit card for the cashier to purchase the cheese, bread, and soup.
It won’t be our dinner tonight, but Aubrey’s been craving it all morning and I want to be sure we have it on hand when we’re home from the hospital.
The cashier refuses to take my money, insisting it’s on the house, and bags the groceries for us.
Olivia and Isaac arrive in ten minutes with Westley and a second car. I hand off Angel and the groceries to Olivia, as Isaac rushes Aubrey into one of the cars. Livy leaves with Westley, while Isaac drives us to the hospital.
When we arrive, Aubrey is in labor for a few hours, with her contractions coming on quicker and stronger.
I text Alejandro and my mother to let them know the baby will be here soon, but the moment I push send, the nurse pages the doctor and announces, “You’re now almost ten centimeters. I’m going to need you to push.”
Aubrey grips my hand, and I brush the damp hair off her forehead. “You’re doing great. Our baby girl is almost here.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” she huffs. “You’re not about to push out a baby the size of a watermelon.”
“Pumpkin,” I correct, and while she tries to glower at me, she can’t hide her amusement.
Her doctor is in the room seconds later and slips on gloves. “All right, how are we looking?” She takes over for the nurse, and I can’t see what she’s doing with Aubrey’s gown tented over her knees.
For the next twenty minutes Aubrey pushes, and I feel helpless, wishing I could do anything more than hold her hand.
On the last push, our little girl is here, her sweet cries bouncing off the walls.
Aubrey’s breathing evens out and I can’t help kissing her, then praise, “You did it. I’m so proud of you. ”
The team cleans up our little girl, wrapping her in a little blanket.
They whisper amongst themselves, then they offer her to me first as they help Aubrey sit up a little.
Our daughter is perfect, but as I take her in, I freeze.
My eyes dart between Alanis and Aubrey, My wife has green eyes and red hair.
Granted she colors it, but her natural color is reddish-brown.
Her donor had blue eyes and blond hair. Alanis?
She has beautiful chocolate brown eyes and hair.
Aubrey’s brows pinch. “What’s wrong?” I sit beside her, and she reaches for Alanis. “Oh, she’s perfect,” she coos.
“Bree… she’s a brunette.”
“Isn’t her hair beautiful?”
It isn’t clicking for her, and her doctor chimes in, gently telling Aubrey, “There is a chance your ovulation window was longer than we originally calculated. You mentioned at one of your appointments that you had unprotected sex after that window, so I would suggest you take a paternity test.”
“You don’t need to,” I insist. “She’s my daughter, even if I’m not biologically the father.”
“Wait, what’s happening?” Aubrey glances between her doctor, the nurse, and me, then looks down at our little girl again. “Are you saying Jamie’s her father?”
“I’m her father, no matter what,” I remind her.
“If you’d like Jamie to be on the birth certificate, we can put a rush on a paternity test,” her doctor offers. “It’s up to you.”
Aubrey kisses Alanis’ forehead, whispering, “He’s right, little one; it doesn’t matter, he’s your daddy.
” Her eyes meet mine again, and she adds, “We’re doing the test. For months, I tortured myself, hating how she wasn’t biologically yours.
I wished every single day that she was. If there’s a chance she is—and there is a very big chance she is since she has your eyes—I want your name on the birth certificate. ”
“Are you sure?”
She reaches for my wrist, turning it over and tapping the rose.
“You’ve loved me and this beautiful daughter of ours since the beginning.
Even if it comes back that we’re wrong and it’s just some weird recessive gene surfacing, you’re her father.
We’ll have you officially adopt her like we discussed, but what if we don't have to?”
I lean forward and kiss her, my heart bursting with so much love I’m afraid my body can’t contain it. The best day of my life was our wedding day, until now.
The doctor clears her throat, and I pull back, sitting beside Aubrey again. “I’m sorry, but we’ll need to get your wife cleaned up. I’ll order the test, and you can always change your mind.”
Aubrey hands our daughter to me, and her bright brown eyes flutter closed. It doesn’t matter what the tests say, this beautiful child and my extraordinary wife are both mine, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure they never doubt it.