Bonus Epilogue
Freya
Five years later
My back tenses and my hips ache, so I stop mid-stride toward the pantry. Planting my hand on the counter, I breathe through the pain and wait for it to subside. It doesn’t last long, maybe fifteen seconds, but I know from experience that this is only the tip of the iceberg.
“Okay, that’s it,” Julian mutters in a low angry whisper. “That one came way faster.”
He’s right, of course. That was only five minutes between contractions, and it was more intense than the last one.
“Fine,” I whisper in return. “I’ll call the car, and you tell him.”
“Me?” He’s wearing a wide-eyed expression of terror that makes me giggle.
“What’s your plan, Julian? We go to the hospital alone and call him when the baby’s here?”
He tilts his head. “Not a bad idea.”
“Julian!”
“Okay, fine. I’ll tell him. But be ready for pandemonium.”
I giggle again and pull my phone from my back pocket, finding Lucien’s number saved in my favorites. It only rings once before he answers.
“Madame?” he asks with excitement.
“It’s time, Lucien.”
“I am coming!” he replies excitedly. “Two minutes, Madame Wilde. I will be there!”
His elation makes me smile just as another contraction stops me in my tracks. With my hand on the wall, I breathe through the pain. Somewhere across the house, I hear a whooping shout and the sound of Julian’s calm tone trying to force our husband to relax.
Three years ago, when I went into labor with Kiran, Archer nearly hyperventilated. I’ve never seen him so excited. It was an incredibly long labor, and he stayed mostly alert and enthused the entire time.
Julian is far more level-headed during the whole thing.
And ironically, I need both. I siphon energy to get through labor with Archer by my side, but I need Julian’s coolness to stop me from freaking out as well. It’s a balance.
Once the contraction subsides, I continue my walk down the hall in search of my hospital bag. As I pass by Kiran’s room, I pause in the doorway and stare at his name in giant letters above his bed—his new big boy bed. A major deal for a three-year-old who’s about to become a big brother.
He’s staying at Julian’s parents for the weekend, since baby Evren decided to be six days late. My heart aches with missing Kiran, and I make a mental note to FaceTime him when we get to the hospital.
“Call your mother,” I say to Julian as he comes up behind me, placing his hand on my back.
“Of course. Let me get the bag.”
My cool and collected husband has everything under control, so I don’t have to worry.
“You too,” I bark at Archer as he turns the corner, wearing a tight expression as if his face hurts with the exertion he’s using to keep from grinning.
“Yes, Chef,” he replies. He scurries in front of me, kicking one of Kiran’s toys out of my path as he grabs my jacket from the hook by the door. As he slides it onto my shoulder, I smile up at him.
His hair is long now, reaching his shoulders. Most of the time, he has it pulled back in a messy bun, especially when he’s working at the gym. But today he has it down, and I want to run my fingers through it. My beautiful, wild man.
“You’re dying of excitement, aren’t you?”
He lets it slip for a moment. Beaming, he nods. “I’m so excited.”
It’s wild to think that next time we come back here, we’ll have two children. Two little boys. Archer wants to keep trying for a girl, but I have a feeling that once Evren is here, our family will feel complete.
His name means universe because that’s what he will be. Our whole world. He represents this perfect piece of heaven we’ve carved out for ourselves. And once he’s here, it’ll be complete.
Kiran means light, which he was. The light after the storm.
“Okay, got the bag,” Julian says as he opens the front door. Archer helps me slide my shoes on my swollen feet, and then I clutch his strong arm as we walk toward the elevator. The same one we met in.
Once we all climb on, I hang on to Archer’s arm as another contraction nearly sends me into a panic. Silently, I close my eyes and breathe through the pain. It’s a cruel and brutal ache that intensifies to the point of agony before eventually easing up.
When I open my eyes, I see the screen of Julian’s phone. He’s texting his mom, who has just sent a photo of her and Kiran, grinning together on the couch.
“I bet he’s so excited,” I say, seeing his cute, cheeky grin.
“She said he’s been asking all day,” Julian replies.
Staring at the photo of our three-year-old, I see so much of myself in his face. My brown eyes. My dark wavy hair. My golden-brown skin.
Julian’s straight nose and almond-shaped eyes.
And I swear…call me crazy, but his smile bears a striking resemblance to Archer’s.
Which I am aware…is impossible. Technically, we don’t know whose sperm it was that fertilized the egg, and unless the boys want to know when they’re grown, we have no plans of finding out. Even if I do see more of Julian in his features, it doesn’t make any difference to us.
This is our family. A home isn’t built by DNA—it’s built by love. Whether Evren comes out with Julian’s bright blue eyes or Archer’s curly brown hair, he’ll be our son no matter what.
When we walk off the elevator, the building staff is waiting, ushering me toward the car as if I’m precious cargo. I waddle out into the late afternoon light, and Lucien helps me into the back of the car.
My hand goes to my belly, feeling Evren kick. As Julian climbs in on my left, I lean my head on his shoulder. “You’ll call my mom too, right?”
He kisses the top of my head. “Of course.”
Archer climbs in the opposite side, his leg bouncing excitedly as Lucien takes off. I clutch his hand in mine because I know deep down Archer hides his fear and insecurities in humor and excitement.
“Let’s go have a baby,” I say sweetly as Lucien dodges traffic on his way to the hospital.
Archer and Julian each rest a hand on my stomach throughout the entire journey, and even through the agonizing drive where every bump in the road hurts like hell, I couldn’t be happier. To think I was once afraid this life was too radical.
But if being in love and building a family is a radical act, then I’ll happily break every rule in the book.