Epilogue
EBBA
One Year Later
“My girls,” Fisher croons, rubbing the back of my neck where I lay sprawled halfway on top of him while our infant daughter snoozes peacefully on his chest. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”
I tilt my head back so I can better see him. “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” he hums with a nod. “My beautiful, perfect family.”
I smile at his words. Stella came screaming into the world one week before Noah and Sabrina’s baby boy, Grayson.
Having a baby at the same time as my best friend has been a joy.
My brother and Whimsy still insist on being the cool uncle and aunt for now, but I have a feeling a proposal is around the corner for the two of them.
Fisher presses his warm lips to my forehead while his fingers graze lazily against my bare back. Stella makes a tiny sound in her sleep, flailing her arms.
“What is it, baby girl?” He croons in his deep voice. “Daddy’s right here.” With his other hand he gently pats her thick dark curls. She yawns in her sleep and settles back down. “She’s so perfect,” he muses. “Just like her momma.”
“Stop trying to flatter me. Have you seen the stretch marks your giant child gave me?”
He frowns at my comment. “I love your stretch marks. They’re so beautiful, Ebba. Your body made our little miracle.”
Stella is a little miracle. We almost lost her like we did Grace, but luckily, I was more prepared this time and went to the doctor at the first sign of something feeling off.
They ran a bunch of tests and gave me a bunch of fancy names for my diagnosis—but long story short, my body doesn’t like being pregnant.
Clearing his throat, he says, “I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?”
His hand on my back dips lower, over the curve of my butt. “Coaching your brother might be nice. At least for a year. Maybe longer.”
I sit up so I can see him better. “Really?”
Noah retired at the end of the last ATP season, which means we haven’t been traveling this year, since Fisher said it made the most sense to take a breather until Stella was born and figure out things later. I guess later is upon us now.
“I don’t think I’m quite done yet.”
I can’t help myself when I trace my fingers over his lips—the same shape he passed on to our daughter.
“Well, I love to travel so you know I won’t say no.”
“Do you think it’s okay with Stella?”
“Stella will do great,” I assure him. “Babies handle travel better than you’d think.”
“If we start out and it’s too much, you promise to be honest with me? I want what’s best for you and her. Always.”
I don’t know what I did to deserve such a thoughtful man. “Promise.”
Fisher picks up her tiny, curled fist between his thumb and index finger. “What do you say, Stella?” To me, he asks, “Do you think she’ll play tennis one day?”
“Maybe.” I settle back down beside him with my head on his shoulder.
“I won’t push her to do anything she doesn’t want to do, but I hope she likes it.”
“Who knows,” I laugh lightly. “Maybe her and Grayson will play mixed doubles one day.”
He chuckles and Stella jostles on his chest with the movement. She continues to sleep peacefully, though.
“Can you imagine it?”
“You and Noah would be insufferable,” I sigh.
“We would be.” He rubs at Stella’s chubby cheek. “What do you say, baby girl? Do you want to be a champion one day?”
She makes a tiny sound in her sleep.
“Whatever she does,” Fisher says softly, “I just want her to be happy.”
“She will be.”
Call it mother’s intuition if you want, but I know our girl has a vibrant future ahead of her. Life will always have ups and downs. That’s normal. But it doesn’t make it any less beautiful.