Epilogue #4
Our world is expanding to welcome this new life, this tiny person who’s changed everything in the span of a few hours.
“Ready for this?” I ask Zach as we watch the sunrise paint the hospital walls with golden light.
His arm tightens around me, his certainty a tangible thing between us. “With you? I’m ready for anything.”
And sitting there, in the quiet dawn of our first day as parents, I believe him completely.
* * *
I wake to the sound of Faith’s babbling through the baby monitor, a smile already forming on my lips before my eyes even open.
One month home with us, and she’s already developed a morning routine, cheerful coos and gurgles around six a.m., as if she’s having an animated conversation with her stuffed animals before announcing she’s ready for breakfast.
“I’ll get her,” I tell Zach, who grunts in acknowledgment, his face still buried in the pillow. He was up with her for the two a.m. feeding, so it’s only fair.
The hallway is bathed in soft morning light as I make my way to the nursery.
We’ve settled into a rhythm these past weeks, alternating night feedings, clinic hours adjusted to maximize time with Faith, and the club adapting around our new family reality.
It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been the most rewarding challenge of my life.
“Good morning, sweet girl,” I say, pushing open the nursery door. “Ready for—”
I stop short, my greeting dying on my lips. Faith is indeed awake, lying on her back in her crib, kicking her legs energetically. But she’s not wearing the pink pajamas I dressed her in last night. Instead, she’s in a tiny white t-shirt I’ve never seen before.
I step closer, curious about where this new outfit came from. As I lean over the crib, the words printed across the front of the shirt come into focus, and my heart skips several beats.
Will You Marry My Daddy?
I stare at the message, reading it over and over as if the words might change. My hands tremble slightly as I lift Faith into my arms, examining the shirt to confirm I’m not hallucinating after too many interrupted nights of sleep.
“Where did you get this?” I ask her softly, knowing she can’t answer but needing to say something to process the shock.
Faith gurgles happily, one tiny hand reaching up to pat my cheek. Her dark eyes, which have settled into a color remarkably similar to mine, gaze up at me with innocent delight.
“I see she delivered my message.”
I turn to find Zach leaning against the doorframe, watching us with an expression I’ve never seen before, nervous anticipation mixed with raw vulnerability.
“Zach?” My voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.
He pushes off from the doorframe and approaches us slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reaches us, he gently takes Faith from my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead before settling her against his shoulder.
“Wasn’t sure how to do this,” he admits, his voice rougher than usual. “Thought about restaurants, romantic getaways, all that traditional stuff. But then I realized…” He gestures around the nursery with his free hand. “…this is us. This is our life now. And I wanted her to be part of it.”
My heart pounds so hard I’m certain he must hear it. “Part of what?”
Instead of answering directly, he shifts Faith to one arm and reaches into his pocket with his free hand. When he opens his palm, a ring glints in the morning light. White gold with a simple diamond, elegant but sturdy enough for a doctor’s hands.
“We’ve done everything backward,” he says with a small smile. “Found each other through chaos, built a family before we even talked about forever. But I want forever, X. With you. With Faith. With whatever comes next for us.”
He doesn’t drop to one knee—can’t, with Faith in his arms—but the way he looks at me carries more weight than any traditional gesture could.
“Xavier Blane,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion I can see in his eyes, “will you marry me?”
For a moment, I can’t speak, overwhelmed by the sight of the man I love holding our daughter, offering me the one thing I didn’t even know I was waiting for.
“Yes,” I finally manage, the word emerging as a half laugh, half sob. “Yes, of course yes.”
His smile breaks across his face like sunrise, relief and joy mingling in equal measure. He slides the ring onto my finger with surprising steadiness before pulling me close, creating a circle with Faith nestled between us.
“She helped pick it out,” he murmurs against my hair. “Had very strong opinions for someone who can’t talk yet.”
I laugh, pressing my face into his shoulder as I try to contain the emotions threatening to overflow. “I’m sure she did.”
Faith chooses that moment to let out a delighted squeal, her tiny hands patting both our cheeks as if congratulating us. The perfect timing makes us both laugh, the sound filling the nursery with a joy I never imagined possible a year ago.
“Your mom helped too,” Zach admits, pulling back slightly to look at me.
The revelation makes the ring even more precious. I stare down at it, watching how it catches the light. “When did you even find time to plan this?”
“Been carrying that ring for weeks,” he confesses. “Just waiting for the right moment. Then I saw the shirt online and knew it was perfect.”
I shake my head in wonder. “Sneaky. Using our daughter as a prop.”
“Effective, though,” he points out with a grin. “You said yes.”
“As if there was any other answer.” I lean in to kiss him properly, mindful of Faith between us. His free hand comes up to cradle my face, his touch gentle despite the calluses on his fingers.
When we part, Faith is watching us with wide, curious eyes, one fist stuffed into her mouth. The sight of her, our daughter, in her proposal t-shirt, brings fresh tears to my eyes.
“We’re going to be a family,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “Officially.”
“We already are,” Zach corrects, pressing his forehead against mine. “The paperwork just catches up eventually.”
I laugh at that, at how perfectly it encapsulates our journey. Reality first, formalities later. “Your dad is going to be unbearable with the wedding planning, you know that, right?”
“Already has a venue picked out,” Zach admits with a wince. “And Mom’s talking about dresses for Faith.”
“Of course she is.” I’m not even surprised, they’re fiercely traditional about family milestones.
Faith begins to fuss, reminding us that romantic moments are still subject to a baby’s schedule. “Someone’s ready for breakfast,” I observe, taking her from Zach’s arms. “Aren’t you, my little proposal accomplice?”
As I settle into the rocking chair to feed her, Zach kneels beside us, his hand resting on my knee. The weight of the ring on my finger feels strange but right, a tangible symbol of the commitment we’ve already made in every way that matters.
“So,” he says, watching as Faith eagerly takes her bottle, “spring wedding? Summer? Tomorrow at the courthouse?”
I laugh, the joy of this moment bubbling up irrepressibly. “Let’s enjoy being engaged for at least a day before we set a date.”
His smile turns thoughtful as he watches us. “Never thought I’d have this,” he admits quietly. “A family. Someone to come home to. Someone who sees all of me and stays anyway.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise, the words carrying the weight of absolute certainty. “Neither is she.”
Faith’s eyes are starting to drift closed as she drinks, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. She looks peaceful, secure, loving everything we’ve worked to give her this past month. Everything we’ll continue giving her for the rest of our lives.
“Dr. Kennedy,” Zach muses, testing the sound of it. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“I like it,” I agree, imagining the new nameplate for my office door. “Though my patients might need time to adjust.”
“They’ll manage.” His confidence makes me smile. “The whole town’s already adjusted to you being with me. A name change is nothing compared to that scandal.”
He’s right, of course. The initial shock of the respectable doctor getting involved with the MC enforcer has long since faded into acceptance. We’re just part of the community now. The doctor, the biker, and their baby.
As Faith finishes her bottle and drifts back to sleep, Zach takes her gently, placing her back in the crib with a tenderness that still catches my heart every time I witness it. His massive hands, capable of such violence, cradle her as if she’s made of glass.
“I need to call my parents,” I say, the practicalities starting to filter through the haze of happiness. “And the clinic. Tiana will want to start planning an engagement party.”
“Already taken care of,” Zach says with a smug smile. “Everyone’s coming over tonight.”
I stare at him, impressed despite myself. “You were that confident I’d say yes?”
He shrugs, but the vulnerability is back in his eyes. “Faithful, not confident. There’s a difference.”
I rise from the rocking chair and go to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and steady beneath my ear, the rhythm I’ve come to rely on.
“I love you,” I tell him, the words simple but encompassing everything I feel. “You and Faith, you’re everything,” I repeat his earlier words from the hospital.
His arms tighten around me, his cheek resting against the top of my head. “Love you too, X. More than I know how to say.”
We stand there in the nursery, our sleeping daughter just feet away, the morning sun painting everything in gold. There will be challenges ahead, there always are with our complicated lives, but in this moment, I’m certain we can face anything together.
Doctor and enforcer. Healer and protector. Now fiancés. Soon-to-be husbands.
A family, in every way that matters.
THE END…
But is it ever really?
Sneak peek of Morgan, Trenton, and Matthew?
Trent
“Let me check the address one more time,” Matthew says, squinting at his phone as I pull the truck into the parking lot.