Chapter 21
ROSIE
The hospital room is a blur of soft lights, beeping machines, and the low hum of nurses quietly moving in and out. I’m lying in the hospital bed, my hands gripping the sides, my breathing coming in shallow gasps as another contraction hits.
“Breathe, Rosie, just breathe,” Knox says, his voice steady and calm as he holds my hand, his green eyes filled with love and encouragement. He’s right by my side, just like he promised he would be.
I squeeze his hand tighter, nodding through the pain. “I’m trying,” I manage to gasp out, my eyes squeezing shut as the contraction peaks.
“You’re doing amazing, babe,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”
The contraction passes, and I collapse back against the pillows, breathing hard, but the pain is already fading. I open my eyes, meeting Knox’s gaze. He looks so calm, so strong, but I can see the worry under the surface.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “It feels like it was just yesterday that we were talking about the baby, and now she’s almost here.”
Knox’s smile is soft, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. “I know. But you’re ready. We’re ready.”
I take a deep breath, nodding as another contraction starts to build. The nurses move around the room, checking the monitors and whispering updates to each other, but I barely register it. All I can focus on is the feel of Knox’s hand in mine, his voice guiding me through the pain, grounding me in this moment.
“You’ve got this, babe,” he says softly, his lips brushing my ear. “Just a little longer.”
* * *
KNOX
Watching Rosie go through labor is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. She’s so strong, but every time she grips my hand and cries out in pain, it feels like a knife twisting in my chest. I’d do anything to take this pain from her, but all I can do is be here, hold her hand, and tell her how incredible she is.
“She’s almost here, Rosie,” the doctor says from the foot of the bed. “One more big push.”
Rosie nods, her face twisted in concentration as she takes a deep breath. I lean closer, pressing my forehead against hers. “You’re amazing, Rosie. Just one more. You’ve got this.”
She lets out a guttural sound, her whole body straining as she pushes with everything she has. And then… the most beautiful sound fills the room.
A baby’s cry.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. All I can do is stare as the doctor lifts our daughter into the air, her tiny body wiggling and squirming. Tears burn in my eyes, and I glance down at Rosie. She’s crying too, her eyes wide with awe and exhaustion.
“She’s here,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “Our baby girl is here.”
* * *
ROSIE
Tears blur my vision as I watch the nurses clean our daughter, the tiny cries filling the room with the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I can’t stop shaking, overwhelmed by the exhaustion and joy swirling inside me.
Knox kisses my forehead, his hand brushing the hair from my face. “You did it, babe. She’s perfect.”
A nurse brings her over, swaddled in a soft blanket, and gently places her in my arms. The moment I look down at her tiny face, my heart completely shatters. She’s perfect. Dark hair, chubby cheeks, and the tiniest fingers I’ve ever seen.
“Hi, baby girl,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face as I cradle her close. “I’m your mommy.”
Knox leans over, his arm wrapped around my shoulders as he looks down at her, his own tears glistening in his eyes. “And I’m your daddy.”
Our daughter’s eyes flutter open, and for a moment, I swear she looks right at us. It’s like she knows. She knows we’re hers. And we’re hers forever.
“She’s so beautiful,” Knox whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
I nod, unable to speak. I never thought I could feel this much love, this much happiness. It’s overwhelming. But it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and more.
Knox kisses the top of my head, then our daughter’s forehead. “Thank you, Rosie,” he whispers, his voice so soft I almost don’t hear it. “Thank you for giving me this family. For giving me everything.”
I look up at him, my heart full to bursting. “We did this together.”
We sit there in silence, the three of us, as the world outside fades away. It’s just us now. Our little family.
And I’ve never felt more at peace.