Epilogue Ford
“Ford!”
I jolted as Zoey yelled my name, dropping the screwdriver in my hand. I was in the nursery, putting together the changing table that was just delivered yesterday, but I lunged to my feet. There was an edge of panic in her voice, and my girl didn’t get freaked out easily.
There was one thing that had her on edge lately, so I had a pretty good idea what I was going to find as I rushed into the living room.
Zoey stood in front of the couch, one hand on her swollen stomach and the other typing away on her phone. The front of her pants was soaked.
“My water broke!” She was practically yelling, so I didn’t point out that what she said was obvious.
I didn’t want to upset her when she was already so worried about giving birth.
I didn’t see it coming. As an ER nurse, keeping a cool head in a stressful situation was something that Zoey had to be good at.
I’d seen her assess victims of horrible accidents with absolute professional calm and dodge a wild punch from an agitated patient without even blinking.
She was the definition of cool, calm, and collected.
At least, she was at work while dealing with other people’s ailments.
When it came to her own condition, it was a different story.
She’d been nothing but excited about having the baby for a long time, but when she got to her third trimester, the panic started.
For some reason, she was terrified about giving birth.
It was actually pretty adorable that she was so worried, but I only made the mistake of telling her that once. She’d glared at me and refused to talk to me for the rest of the day, and I realized that she didn’t see it as a compliment. Since then, I kept my comments about it to myself.
I definitely didn’t tell her that her out-of-control hormones were making her overreact. I didn’t have a death wish.
“Why are you just standing there?” Her voice was sharp with impatience, but I didn’t take offence because the next second, she was wincing and doubled over in pain.
I rushed to her side, one hand on her back and the other plucking her phone out of her hand before she dropped it. I saw that she’d been texting Ruby, and I finished the message for her, letting her best friend know that we were on our way.
I waited until the contraction passed and then lifted Zoey into my arms, striding toward the bedroom.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to help you change your clothes and then we’re going to Lakeview.”
“Ford.” She whimpered as I set her on her feet in the middle of the bedroom. “I’m scared.”
I was already pulling open her drawers, looking for a pair of her stretchy leggings, but I stopped and returned to her. Cupping her cheeks, I kissed her forehead.
“Don’t worry, Angel. Nothing is going to go wrong.”
“But it’s going to hurt.”
I hesitated, not sure what to say here. I couldn’t exactly lie and tell her it would be painless.
“I know,” I said, hugging her to my chest. “And I wish I could take the pain away from you. I promise, you’re strong enough to do this.”
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
She suddenly pushed against my chest, looking sullen. One thing I wasn’t going to miss having her blame me occasionally for all the unpleasant parts of her pregnancy. I went back to the dresser, giving her a little space as I grabbed leggings and fresh underwear.
Tossing them into the bed, I reached for the front of her wet maternity jeans, but she batted my hands away. “I can do it.”
Then, another contraction hit. I hated seeing her in so much pain, and my amusement about her panic faded. I wanted to get her to the hospital and demand an epidural for her.
As soon as this contraction passed, I ignored her protests and changed her pants for her. Her cheeks were red, as if it embarrassed her, and I had the thought that she was adorable again.
Then, we were on the road. It didn’t take long to get to the hospital from our place, but she had three more contractions by the time we arrived. I used the car’s clock to time them, and they were five minutes apart. She was fully in active labor. Things were moving fast.
Okay, maybe I was starting to panic a little too. We knew this was coming any day, but it still felt sudden. We were about to become parents!
“Ford.” Zoey hissed my name between gritted teeth as I parked the car, reaching for my hand and squeezing it hard enough to bend my bones.
I just held on.
When that contraction was over, I popped my door open and rushed around to the other side. Zoey shook her head as I pulled her into my arms.
“No, I can walk.”
I just kissed her and started to make my way into the hospital.
Everything moved quickly after that. Ruby personally met us at the entrance, hustling down the hallway as Zoey moaned in pain. I didn’t have a clock to reference now, but there was no way five minutes had passed since the last one.
Our little pumpkin was coming soon.
Ruby helped me put Zoey in a gown, and she didn’t protest the help this time. Probably because she was in so much pain. Tears swam in her eyes, and she was flushed.
“It hurts,” she whimpered after a contraction that lasted fifty seconds. All I could do was hold her hand and kiss her forehead.
The doctor came in and checked her, announcing to my dismay that labor was too far along for the epidural. My heart plummeted to the floor but when I looked at Zoey, there was a determined spark in her eyes. The panic was gone. She’d found her strength at the final moment.
In no time, the doctor was telling her to start pushing. Ruby was at her other side, holding her other hand, and we counted to ten every time she pushed. She grunted and cried out, but she didn’t scream after the doctor told her to conserve her energy for pushing instead.
It felt like it took forever because every flinch and wince made my heart stop and my lungs feel too small. I wiped the sweat from her head and murmured encouraging words in her ear. Mostly, I told her that was the most amazing woman I’d ever known, and that I was so damn proud of her.
When the baby’s cry filled the room, the sound of joy that fell from Zoey’s lips was something that I knew I’d remember forever.
I cut the cord and they placed our daughter on Zoey’s chest. Seeing the two of them together was the most significant moment in my life. Nothing compared to this.
When we were alone, I took a brief moment to make a few phone calls.
Everything had happened so fast that I didn’t have the chance to before.
Leanne informed me that Ryan was at the firehouse on a shift, but she’d let him know right away.
Jake picked up my call on the first ring, and I barely got the words out before he said he was on his way and hung up.
I smiled and shook my head. He’d come around to the idea of Zoey having my baby over the last eight months. Once I made it clear that I loved her and would never hurt her again, he gave his blessing.
I didn’t particularly care about having it, but it made Zoey happy.
Ryan wasn’t surprised when I told him about my relationship with Zoey. It turned out that he was more observant than I knew, and he’d picked up on a vibe between us the first time we were all at a party after we started dating.
When I asked why he didn’t say anything, he just shrugged and said that he wasn’t nosy.
Leanne, on the other hand, had no clue and had laid into Ryan about the importance of sharing vital gossip with his wife. In the end, we all had a good laugh, and I didn’t have to deal with another pissed off brother, so I was happy about that.
“Did you text Lance?” Zoey asked.
Ever since I joined his clinic seven months ago, Zoey and I referred to Dr. Lance Hayes by his first name. He wasn’t just my colleague; he was my friend. He was still an arrogant ass at times, but I’d grown used to it.
I found that I liked private practice. I liked having medical autonomy and more regular hours. It was a good fit for me.
“Yeah,” I said, putting the phone away as I came back over to where she was breastfeeding our daughter. “He says congratulations and that he’ll come by to visit tomorrow.”
I reached out and softly ran my finger over the soft brown hair on the baby’s head.
“So, what do you think?” Zoey asked. “Which name should we use?”
We’d pick out two girls’ names, but we couldn’t decide which one we liked more. So, we chose to wait until she was born to see which one felt right. “I think she looks like a Stella.”
“Stella,” Zoey repeated with a grin. “Yeah, she’s definitely a Stella.”
The baby finished eating and I burped her. She fell asleep immediately, so I carefully placed her on the bedside bassinet. When I turned back to Zoey, she was watching me with tired, happy eyes. There was a softness to this moment, and I knew that this was it. This was what I’d been waiting for.
Stepping back to the bed, I took Zoey’s hand and brought it to my lips. As I kissed her knuckles, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring I’d been carrying for weeks, trying to figure out when and how to pop the question.
After the disaster of my first proposal, I wanted to get this right.
Holding her eyes, I slipped the ring right onto her finger.
“What the-”
“Marry me, Zoey,” I blurted. Shit. I didn’t prepare a speech. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you want to beg, I will. Just please marry me.”
Her lips curled in a slow smile. “The proud Dr. Whitmore would beg for me?”
A memory sparked. Months ago, the greenroom. She’d asked the same thing. And my answer was the same.
“Absolutely.”
She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me down until her lips met mine. The kiss was short and sweet, and I was pretty sure I knew what it meant, but I needed to hear the words.
“Zoey? You have to answer the question.”
She laughed lightly. “Yes, Ford. I’ll marry you.”
Joy rushed through me, and I sat on the edge of her bed to hold her close. My fiancée. Soon, my wife. The mother of my child, and the love of my life. I held everything in my arms, and I would never, ever let it go.