Epilogue
“You’re doing great, Brittany. You’re almost ready to push.” The doctor folds the blankets back over my lower half and straightens as another contraction takes hold.
“No.” I shake my head and try to breathe through the pain that’s already burned through the medication I received earlier.
In my defense, I started out the natural way.
But after the first vicious contraction, I was done trying it without help.
“Ryder. Isn’t. Here,” I say through clenched teeth as I attempt to follow the breathing exercises my best friend is coaching me through.
She’s doing it like a champ, but she isn’t the one prepping to push an object the size of a watermelon out through an apple.
“He’s on his way. I called him when we headed to the hospital,” Krista says.
“H-he’s in Vegas,” I grit out through my clenched teeth as the contraction crests.
“Yeah.” She grimaces as I tighten my hand on hers. “But the plane was on standby,” she reminds me.
For the last few weeks, every time he’s been in Vegas for a show, he’s had a plane on standby. It was one of many ways he’s kept his promise to me. From the beginning, he’s sworn that he won’t miss the birth of our baby.
The baby. We opted not to find out the sex of the baby. Tonight, we’ll finally find out.
The door opens. and I hold my breath and dart a look, hoping for Ryder.
It’s a nurse. My heart sinks as he steps closer and checks the monitors.
“I can’t,” I tell Krista. “He’s not here.”
“He’ll be here. A commercial flight from Vegas to Denver is two hours. I bet it’s faster on a private flight.”
“How far…oh God, here comes another one—” My abdomen tightens like my body is trying to flip itself inside out.
Krista lets out a breath and offers me her hand again.
By the time I can focus on anything other than the contraction, the nurse has moved away from the monitors and Krista is checking her phone with her free hand.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.”
The doctor looks up from her conversation with the nurse. “Okay, Mom, ready to meet your baby?”
I shake my head. “I can’t. Not yet. Not without Ryder.”
The doctor and nurse exchange a look before the doctor focuses back on me.
“I know you want to wait, but that’s not healthy for you or the baby. You’re fighting the natural progression of labor, but it’s important to let nature work through the process.” She shuffles to the machines at my side and reads through several lines. “Your contractions are strong. That’s your body telling you it’s time to deliver the baby.”
I want to wait, but I understand what the doctor is saying.
I don’t want to do this without Ryder.
But it looks like I might have to.
“Please. Five more minutes.”
I have to try. For him. For us.
She nods. “Not a minute more. Joey is going to stay in here and keep an eye on the monitor. If it does anything he doesn’t like, he’s going to page me, and we’re done waiting.”
Once the doctor steps out, I turn to my friend. “Can you call him, Kris? Find out where he is.”
I’ve been here for three and a half hours. He should be here by now.
With a nod, she pulls her phone out and dials him. She taps the speaker button, and the sound of the ringtone echoes around the room again and again until it trips over to voicemail.
Another contraction hits, the hardest one of all, and takes my breath away. I open my mouth, but I can’t breathe, and I can’t speak. I can’t do anything but grip the sheets on either side of me.
“And that’s time,” Joey says from where he’s been hovering next to the monitor. With a sympathetic smile, he puts his phone to his ear. “We’re ready in room 3310,” he says into the device.
My time is up.
Beside me, Krista gives me a shaky smile. “I’m ready to meet my niece or nephew. Let’s do this, Britt.”
I want Ryder here, but there’s no way I can hold off any longer. “Okay.”
The doctor returns, dressed in a pair of light blue scrubs. Behind her is another person wearing the same color. It takes a moment for the dark hair that falls across his forehead to register in my mind.
“Ryder!”
He rushes to my side, brushing a kiss to my forehead, and takes my hand. “I’m so sorry, baby. The flight was fast, but getting across town was almost impossible. There were two accidents on the interstate.”
Tears of relief prick my eyes. “You made it. We just tried calling you?—”
He blows out a frustrated breath. “I left my phone in my room in Vegas when I rushed out and didn’t want to turn around for it. I just wanted to be here.”
“I was…trying…to wait,” I murmur through another contraction as the doctor and Joey bustle around us.
“Okay, Brittany, we’re going to have you push with the next contraction.”
My legs are now braced in stirrups at the end of the bed, and the doctor is poised between them.
“Dad, I’m going to have you support her on that side while…” She looks at Krista, her brows lifted in question.
“Krista,” she tells the doctor.
“While Krista supports her from the other.”
“Okay,” Ryder and Krista say in unison.
“I’m scared,” I whisper to Ryder.
He leans in close, his smile warm. “You’re doing great, baby. I’m here.”
My entire body tightens with the next contraction, making it hard to focus on anything else.
“Okay, Brittany, push.”
“You can do this, baby.” Ryder presses his lips to my temple and breathes in.
I bear down, pushing until the end as the doctor counts down.
There’s no time to breathe, because the next contraction is right on top of the first.
“Again.”
More counting, more pushing.
“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart. I love you so much.” Ryder’s voice is right in my ear.
I love this man, but I can’t focus on anything other than pushing and the pain that’s eradicated the remainder of the medication in my system. Sweat trails down my temples and pools at the back of my neck.
This round of counting finally ends, and I collapse against the hospital bed.
“The head is out, Brittany. One more push, maybe two, and your baby will be here.”
I struggle to sit up, the backs of my eyes burning, as my stomach tightens once again.
“That’s it, Brittany,” the doctor says as I bear down with all my might. “Five, four, three, two—here we go.” She lifts the baby, and Joey swoops in with a blanket.
The sound of the baby’s cry fills the room, pulling a sob from deep within me.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor says as Joey places my daughter in my arms.
I glance at Ryder, who has tears streaming down his face.
“A girl,” I tell him.
His eyes meet mine, and the love there is overwhelming. He rests a hand on mine on the baby’s back and leans over to brush a kiss on my lips. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby. I love you so goddamn much.”
“I love you too.”
“Dad, do you want to cut the cord?” Joey asks, holding out a pair of scissors.
“Krista?” He nods to his sister.
He and I talked about this, though we haven’t mentioned it to Krista before.
Her eyes go wide as she looks from Ryder to me. “Me?”
“Yeah.”
Once the cord is cut and we’ve had a few minutes with Baby Girl Powell, she’s whisked away to the nursery for additional measurements.
“I’m going to go tell Mom and Dad,” Krista says, leaving Ryder and me alone.
“Have I told you that I love you?” he asks, hovering close.
I smile and nod. “Yeah,” I say, yawning. “Love you.”
“Why don’t you rest for a bit? You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I am.”
“Sleep, baby. I’ll be right here. Am I okay to use your phone to text the guys?” He kisses my forehead.
My eyelids are already growing heavy. “’Kay.”
“Sweet dreams, Britt.”
I’m not sure how long I sleep, but I wake to a soft knock on the door.
“Look who’s back to see you.” A different nurse wheels in the bassinet where our daughter is nestled in a soft pink blanket.
Ryder stands from the chair and approaches the baby, his expression full of awe.
“Are you breastfeeding?” the nurse asks.
“I want to try,” I tell her, worrying at my bottom lip. “I’m not sure…”
The nurse nods and gives me an encouraging smile. “Let’s see how she does.”
She helps me expose one of my breasts, and Ryder lifts our daughter into my arms. After several seconds, her little lips do what they’re supposed to.
“See? Babies have been figuring this out for forever. I’ll come check on you in a bit,” she says.
Now it’s just our little family of three.
“She’s so perfect,” Ryder says, cupping her head.
“This little girl still needs a name,” I tell him.
“I like the last name you suggested,” he says.
“Lyric?”
I found it on a whim while I was skimming baby name websites for something musical. A name that reminded me of him.
He nods once. “Lyric Brooklyn Powell.”
“I love that,” I say.
Lyric releases my breast and makes a small sound. Not quite a cry.
“Looks like she agrees,” Ryder says. The adoration is evident in his voice and the way he brushes his thumb over the knit cap on her head.
My heart melts at the sight. “Why do I get the feeling that she’s already got you wrapped around her little finger?”
“Because she does,” he murmurs. “Just like her mama.”
“I guess you’re outnumbered now. Two against one.”
“I’ll take those odds, Britt. But it’s not two against one.”
“No?” I ask.
“Nope. Because you never have to worry about whether I’m on your side. And neither does Lyric. I’ll be here for as long as you’ll have me.”
“I love you, Ryder.”
“Love you, Britt.” He brushes a kiss to my mouth, then presses his lips to Lyric’s head. “Daddy loves you, Lyric.”
I didn’t think it was possible to love him more, yet he’s just proved that my love for him is like the love we share for our daughter.
Infinite.
The End
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