~ Bonus Chapter 7 ~
Reed knew something had fundamentally altered the structure of his soul the first time his daughter wrapped her tiny fingers around his.
Reina was barely a few weeks old, all soft sighs and blinking brown eyes, curled against his chest like she'd always belonged there.
He stood in the middle of the living room at three in the morning, rocking back and forth on instinct, afraid to sit down in case the movement stopped and she realized he had no idea what he was doing.
Eva watched from the couch, knees tucked to her chest, eyes warm and knowing.
"You can sit," she whispered. "She's not made of glass."
Reed didn't look away from their daughter. "She feels like she might shatter if I breathe wrong."
Eva smiled. "That's love."
Reed swallowed.
Alexander padded into the room then, dragging his dinosaur by the tail, hair sticking up at the back from sleep. He stopped short when he saw Reed holding the baby.
"Mine?" Alexander asked, pointing at Reina.
"Yes," Reed said immediately. "Yours."
Alexander nodded solemnly, climbing onto the couch beside Eva. He leaned over, peering at his sister with intense focus.
"She little," he declared.
Eva brushed his hair back. "She is."
Alexander frowned. "No loud."
"No loud," Reed agreed.
Alexander looked up at Reed. "I help."
And he did.
From that day on, Alexander appointed himself Reina's self-declared protector. He informed strangers—loudly—that they could look but not touch. He placed his dinosaur beside her crib "so bad guys scared." He tattled on Reed once for adjusting her blanket too aggressively.
Reed accepted all of it without complaint.
Because this... this was different.
With Alexander, Reed had learned patience. Endurance. Humor. How to kneel on the floor and be present even when exhausted.
With Reina?
Reed learned awe.
He learned gentleness on a cellular level.
He learned that his hands—hands that had spent years gripping basketballs and lifting weights and bracing against impact—could be steady enough to soothe a crying newborn with nothing more than his thumb brushing her cheek.
Eva noticed it all.
She noticed how Reed hovered when Reina cried, like he could will the sound away if he focused hard enough. How he triple-checked her car seat straps. How he refused to sleep deeply, waking at every tiny noise.
"You're allowed to rest," Eva told him one night, sitting beside him as he stared at the baby monitor like it might explode.
"I know," Reed said. "I just... what if she needs me?"
Eva rested her head against his shoulder. "She has you. And me."
Reed nodded, but didn't look convinced.
The first time someone made a comment—something casual, careless—about how beautiful Reina would be someday, Reed felt something dark and primal unfurl in his chest.
"She's a baby," he said flatly, stepping closer to Eva without thinking.
Alexander bristled immediately. "That's my sister."
Eva bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Later, when Eva teased him about it, Reed didn't even deny it. "I'm not ready," he said honestly. "For the world to see her."
Eva kissed his cheek. "She's strong. She's ours."
Reed looked down at their daughter asleep in his arms, her tiny fist curled around his shirt.
"I don't want anyone to ever make her feel small," he said quietly.
Eva's heart clenched.
"She won't," she promised. "Not with you as her dad."
Time passed the way it always does — quietly, loudly, all at once.
Reina grew into soft giggles and chubby thighs. Alexander grew louder, taller, more fiercely protective. The house grew messier. The kitchen louder. The love deeper.
One afternoon, Eva found Reed sitting on the floor of Reina's room, holding her upright while Alexander danced in front of them, doing something that resembled both a dinosaur and a ballet move.
Reina squealed.
Reed laughed.
A full, unguarded sound.
Eva leaned against the doorframe, watching the man she loved become someone even better than she'd imagined.
Later that night, after both kids were finally asleep, Reed pulled Eva into his arms on the couch, forehead resting against hers.
"I didn't know I could love like this," he admitted. "It feels... bigger than me."
Eva smiled softly. "It is."
Reed kissed her — slow, grounding — then whispered, "Thank you for trusting me with this life."
Eva pressed her lips to his jaw. "You've always been worthy of it."
Down the hall, Alexander murmured in his sleep.
Reina sighed softly.
Reed held Eva tighter.
Boy dad.
Girl dad.
Husband.
Home.
And for the first time in his life, Reed Taylor felt completely, terrifyingly at peace. ??