EPILOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
CATCH
M idwife Trisha knelt beside the birthing pool, her hands steady as she monitored Bianca’s contractions.
Bianca was on all fours in the warm water, her body trembling with each wave of pain. The dim glow of candlelight flickered across her glistening skin , the deep green of her bikini darkening where the water kissed it.
My wife and I had decided on a home birth, wanting to avoid the hospital setting. Her OBGYN, Dr. Dalan, sat with two nurses across the dimly lit room, ready to assist if needed.
Trisha looked calm and confident, making me feel at ease about our decision to have a water birth. Downstairs, our family and friends were celebrating with food and drinks while we waited for Bianca's family to arrive from out of town.
My parents would be arriving soon as well. As for my sister, she was abroad, studying at the University of Cambridge. I promised to FaceTime her once Bianca, and the baby were settled.
I wore green and black swim trunks so that I could join my wife in the pool and possibly help deliver our child.
Most men wouldn’t want anything to do with the delivery. However, I got my wife pregnant, so I wanted to be there for her every step of the way.
The week after we wiped out the Massas had been pure bliss. But maybe that was because I was skating around the truth—the truth I knew would break her heart.
I could still hear her voice the day she finally asked, “How did I get pregnant if I was taking my birth control pills?”
There was no way around it. I told her.
I watched the light in her eyes dim as realization set in. The way her expression shattered, how her body tensed like she’d been stabbed in the back.
It gutted me.
My selfish ways had gotten me into trouble again.
She yelled and cried. “How could you do this?”
Her voice rose, raw and sharp. “ I don’t want anything to do with you. You psychopath!”
It still stung.
But not as much as watching her walk out the door.
She moved in with Tori and Ritchie.
While she was there, I’d get off work and creep into the guestroom late at night and sleep on the floor next to the bed.
A week later, I got a dry, emotionless voicemail saying she was going to visit her family — code, for she wasn’t ready to come home. We were apart for two days and I lost my shit. I flew to Chicago and checked into a hotel not far from where her parents lived.
I barely slept in the hotel room. I usually fell asleep in my SUV a few doors down from her parents’ house.
Mr. Landry kept me company on those long nights, sitting beside me in the front seat, watching basketball games on my laptop.
I respectfully told my father-in-law I was taking my wife home. He didn’t stand in my way.
I had plenty of time to reflect on what I did wrong. Instead, I thought about how soon I could get her pregnant again.
I knew that was fucked up.
One night, after watching another game, Mr. Landry led me inside the house. Bianca and her mother were curled up on the couch, laughing at some sitcom. The second Bianca saw me, her smile vanished.
“Hello, Mrs. Landry,” I greeted smoothly.
“Callum.” She smiled, but Bianca’s glare could have set me on fire.
“I need to speak to my wife,” I said.
Mrs. Landry touched my arm in silent understanding before disappearing down the hall with her husband.
Bianca’s arms crossed over her chest.
Defensive. Stubborn. Gorgeous.
“I’m not ready to come back,” she muttered.
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to her brother, Kam.
Seconds later, he walked in—Bianca’s suitcase in hand.
She shot to her feet. “Kam, what are you doing?”
“Sorry, sis.” He dropped the suitcase beside me and walked away.
Her fury swung toward me next. “You used my brother against me.”
I took a step forward, voice calm but firm. “Say your goodbyes.”
She knew from the tone alone that I would carry her out of here kicking and screaming if I had to.
On the flight home, she tried to sit a few rows away.
I wasn’t having it.
I sank into the seat beside her and pulled her chin up with my index finger. “The next time I get you pregnant, you will sit and sulk in our home. You will not ever leave our house again. This was a onetime thing. Not being under the same roof as you isn’t an option, Bianca,” I snarled.
She jerked her head to the side. I caught her chin again, my grip firmer this time. “Do you have any idea how many men I killed while I was in Chicago? All because we were apart?”
Her eyes widened, horrified. Then, just as quickly, they hardened. She scowled.
“You did this to us, Catch,” she spat.
I exhaled slowly, my temper barely in check. “I love you, Bombshell.”
Her expression cracked—just slightly—and tears welled in her eyes. “You can’t just do whatever you want, Catch.”
I ignored her words. After reclining our seats, I pulled her into my arms.
“Next time, Bombshell, when we get into an argument and you feel the urge to flee, I’ll just handcuff you to the bed. I won’t live without you again.”
I claimed her mouth, and this time, she didn’t pull away.
And if you think I went all that time without fucking my wife?
Yeah. Let’s just say she didn’t refuse my dick.
“Catch,” Bianca’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “It’s time.”
I stepped into the birthing tub, removed her bikini bottoms, and rubbed her back. “You’re doing great, Bombshell.”
She smiled through the pain.
Minutes later, my wife gave birth to a healthy baby boy. He weighed eight pounds and five ounces.
The moment she held him, her exhaustion melted into a wide, radiant grin.
“I’m so happy you’re here, Callum III.”
See? I told you she’d come around.
As the nurses tended to Bianca and made her comfortable in our bed, I held our newborn son close to my bare chest.
“Look at his little blond curls,” I said before planting a kiss on his tanned cheek.
I pulled back and could’ve sworn he smiled at me when his gray eyes met mine.
“You look like the perfect mix of me and your mommy. You have my nose and eye color. And your mom’s pouty lips and slanted eyes. You’re wonderful.” I grinned.
I placed the baby in her arms. Bianca could hardly tear her eyes away. “We did so good.”
She peeked at me. “Thank you, Callum, for our beautiful son.”
I pressed my lips against hers. “We have our own little family. Thank you, Bianca, for taking care of our son while he was in your womb. I knew you’d be a wonderful mother.”
She exhaled shakily. “I love you, Callum.”
“I love you too, Bombshell.”
“Let’s take our time and enjoy this little bundle of joy before we talk about another child.”
I smiled at her statement. Because I was already plotting on how fast I could get her pregnant a second time.
THE END