Epilogue Oliver
“Um… Ollie?” Brinden’s voice was eerily calm.
I glanced up to see my very-pregnant fiancé sort of hunched over his belly, his hands gripping at the rounded swell of it.
If it weren’t for the fact that his fingers looked like claws, hooked into the fabric of his sweatshirt, I wouldn’t have realized that he was on the verge of a breakdown.
I jumped to my feet and went to his side, steadying him with one hand. “Brin? Is everything okay?”
He gulped, his dark eyes wide and worried. “I think my water just broke.” His gaze darted out the window, to the snowflakes pouring from the sky in big, fluffy bucketsful. Great. If I wasn’t panicking yet, I would be here soon.
“Shit. We really didn’t plan this pregnancy very well, huh?” Stay calm. Breathe in slow and deep, just like they showed you. You got this, Ollie. “Which one of us decided on a winter baby?”
That made him giggle, then hiccup on a soft cry. “I’m scared.”
Me too! I wanted to yelp, but I was the Alpha in this relationship. I needed to act like one. Right now, Brinden needed me to stay in control. I cupped his fuzzy cheeks in my hand and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m gonna go grab your overnight bag, and then we’ll go.”
“Sh-Shouldn’t we call Mac? He said he’d drive,” he squeaked, his voice rising in pitch.
“He and Nathaniel aren’t back in town yet,” I told him, thinking of our friends, who’d escaped for a weekend getaway.
He gaped at me. “But they said—”
“Brin, baby. You aren’t even due for another two weeks.”
“But it’s snowing!” he wailed, hugging himself around the middle. “And it hurts!”
“Shh, shh. It’s okay, we’ll get there, I promise. You are not having this baby in the middle of the living room,” I assured him, then sprinted down the hall. Luckily, when Brin started nesting, he’d thought to pack a bag of essentials he’d need when our little one decided to show up.
Oh god, I was going to be a father.
I snatched the bag, then helped Brinden get into his winter coat.
He was too big to zip it up, but I didn’t want him overheating anyway.
He curled in on himself, whimpering out loud as another contraction hit.
I talked him through it, until his face relaxed once more.
Jesus Christ, I was gonna end up having a heart attack before this baby was ever born!
“I hate this. Why does it have to hurt?”
“Because. Your body has created a tiny human out of practically nothing but stardust. Of course it’s gonna hurt, because that baby wants out. He wants to meet his daddy.” I took both his hands in mine and kissed his knuckles. “I love you. Keep breathing, it’s gonna be okay.”
“But the—”
“Fuck the snow! Jack Frost can kiss my ass. We’re having a baby,” I exclaimed.
He smiled in awe. “We are.”
I don’t exactly know how I pulled it off. I was petrified of driving in the snow. Every time the car fishtailed or the back wheels slipped, my heart beat mercilessly in my chest, but I gripped the steering wheel with both hands and got us to Destiny Central.
From there, I let the nurses take over. They helped Brinden sit down in the wheelchair and wheeled him away, leaving me to catch my breath and have a mini-freakout without my poor Omega to witness it.
I called Mac and Nathaniel first. Jillian and Reed next. And finally, my father. He picked up on the second ring, wheezing into the phone like he’d just sprinted across the kitchen just to reach it. “Hello?”
“Dad?” I croaked. “It’s time.”
“What? But I thought—”
“Baby’s coming. We’re at the hospital. Hurry.”
“I’ll be there, my boy,” he promised, and as he was hanging up the phone, I heard him utter, “Hot damn, I’m finally gonna be a grandpa.”
I hesitated a moment, then quickly tapped out a text to Jay. We’d gotten closer these past few months, going out bowling together. He had an epic man-cave in his basement, and we got together to throw back a few beers every now and again.
Baby’s on his way!
Moments later, my phone chimed out his reply. Woohoo, congrats! Way to go man. I’d say this calls for a celebratory beer night here soon, what do you say?
Sounds great. I’ll keep you updated.
“Where’s Jilly?” Brinden demanded the moment I walked through the door. His face was tight and pinched with pain. “She promised me she’d be here!”
“She’s on her way,” I said, taking a seat beside him.
I took his hand and softly rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, knowing it was one of the few ways to calm him when he was frightened or upset.
He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the pillows propping him up.
“Just think, in a couple of hours, we’ll be holding our son. ”
His smile was faint, but there, and we rode out the storm together.
As it turned out, the baby had been in a big ass hurry to get here, but took his sweet time actually coming out.
I held Brinden’s hand through each and every contraction, Jillian encouraging him from the other side of the bed like his own personal cheerleader.
Like giving birth was an Olympic sport or something.
And then, finally—“WAAAH-AHH!”
The newborn’s cries filled the room on the heels of one final push and a scream of anguish from Brinden.
The doctor did whatever doctors did, and the nurses took our wailing son out of the room to be cleaned up and swaddled in blankets.
My Omega collapsed in panting cries, tears streaming down his face.
“I did it,” he said weakly.
“You did.”
“Oh, Brinny,” sighed Jillian. “I’m so happy for you, but god, I’m so thankful I’m an Alpha.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“Shut up,” Brin grumbled.
A little while later, one of Brinden’s nurses brought back a fussy baby.
One look at his son and his eyes filled with tears.
He outstretched his hands and she carefully tucked the little one into his arms. Brin held him like he was fragile, but our little boy just wanted to nurse and bleated in frustration when his new daddy didn’t get the memo.
“He’s hungry,” I said.
“Oh. Oh!” With a little maneuvering, the infant latched onto Brinden’s nipple and began suckling greedily, snuffling and groaning the whole time. Brin giggled. “He’s so noisy…and small. He’s very small.”
“He’s beautiful.”
“He is. I can’t believe this is real.”
“It’s real,” I promised him, kissing his temple. Leaning in to get a better look at our son’s puffy red face and scrunched up nose, I grinned. “He looks like a Brutus or a Butch. Something beefy, you know?”
Brin snorted. “Can you imagine if he grows up an Omega? An Omega named Brutus?”
“That’s lame,” Jillian announced. “You should name him Julian, after moi!”
“That’s lame too,” Brin told her. “Do you have the list?”
Even as he spoke the words, I was already bringing up the notes app on my phone.
We’d added names over the course of the last six or seven months, then narrowed it down when we learned we were having a boy.
The three of us looked through the names, Brinden whispering each one out loud to see how it sounded.
“Payton,” he breathed out, and the baby cooed. He actually cooed. Brinden’s eyes went round as saucers, and he gently ran his hand over the little one’s fuzzy head. “Payton? That’s cute, right?”
“Yeah, and you know he and Pierce are gonna end up being buddies, being only months apart,” I agreed, thinking of Kennedy’s baby brother—technically our baby’s brother, too, at least by half. “Payton. I like it.”
“Me too,” Brinden said on a sigh, then flopped back against the pillows. “I’m so tired…”
“You just gave birth, silly,” Jillian teased him. “Give Payton to his daddy and take a little nap.”
“Yeah, baby-hog. Give me my son.”
My Omega’s eyes glittered with happiness as he handed the infant over. I cradled him in my arms and brushed my nose against the peach fuzz atop his rounded head. Payton squirmed with a grunt, his brown eyes just as dark as his daddy’s, and I smiled.
He was perfect, and I knew without a doubt, I was ready for the beginning of the rest of our lives.