Epilogue One
ELLARY
ONE MONTH LATER…
Jackson presses against my side and whispers into my ear. “How did you convince everyone?”
I rub my pregnant belly, smug. “I’m very convincing.”
He shakes his head, his expression making me laugh as I scan the sea of blue T-shirts, sweaters, and dresses worn by our friends and family. We decided to add a twist to our baby reveal party competition: see who can convince the most people that the baby will be a boy or a girl.
Looks like I won.
The last month has been a whirlwind.
I quit my job at the coffee shop. I loved the girls, but working as a barista was never meant to be permanent.
For now, I’m going to be a stay-at-home mom when the baby comes, but eventually I want to get my master's in business, whether that’s by attending community college or studying remotely.
I’d like to pursue the career I gave up before and see if we can make it work.
Jackson has said he’ll help out however he can, and we will figure things out together.
Jackson moved back into our home, and even though there was a fee for breaking his lease, he didn’t care and neither did I. And we’ve been to the jewelry store to pick out new wedding rings, confusing the sales assistant when we told her we were already married and just wanted new rings.
Putting up the pictures of us that I had taken down from the walls came next. We did that together on a lazy Sunday afternoon, reminiscing over our honeymoon and the happiest moments of our lives. It was another type of reconnecting with each other that I hadn’t known I’d needed until we’d done it.
We’ve kept up with therapy for him, me, and us. Our prenatal appointments with the doctor have also gone well, and our childbirth lessons at the community center haven’t only been fun; we’ve made new friends with other couples due to have their babies soon.
It’s all led up to today, our baby reveal party in our backyard.
We’re planning to get remarried on the beach in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where we had our honeymoon nine years ago and where we want to recommit to each other.
It will be a vacation for all our friends and family before the baby comes.
For the baby reveal party, Dr. Jaegar told our cake baker the gender a few days ago, and she made us a gorgeous—white, at least on the outside—cake. Once we cut into it, the pink or blue sponge will reveal whether we’re having a boy or a girl.
It was Jackson’s idea to add the twist to our competition.
We’d have our families wear blue for a boy or pink for a girl, and we’d see who was right.
We both could use any means to convince our friends and families, and I guess I was more convincing than Jackson, who is the only one wearing a pink T-shirt.
He releases a sigh. “I look like I turned up to the wrong party,” he mutters.
I laugh. “You could have just worn blue.” I blink up at him innocently. “You still have time to admit defeat and change.”
He snorts. “Nope. My gut says a girl, and I’m sticking with it.” He leads us to the cake, and we stop to chat with everyone along the way.
“How did she convince you?” Jackson asks his parents.
His mom is in a blue floral dress, and his dad is in an Oxford blue button-down and dark-wash jeans.
“Twenty dollars each,” his dad jokes, winking.
“Hey!” I exclaim when Lila, standing nearby with a glass of white wine, laughs. “There was no exchange of money. I won them over fair and square.”
“We get to watch the baby on your first date night,” his mom says happily.
Jackson looks down at me, eyebrow raised.
“I said no money was exchanged. I said nothing about favors. And it’s a treat for them and for us.
” Though I’m not seeing it as a treat just yet.
Boy or girl, I’m ready to hold my baby in my arms and love on them, but I’m sure the need for space and time alone will assert itself after three or four sleepless nights.
Jackson kisses the top of my head. “My wife is a brilliant strategist.”
He says it so fondly that he draws smiles all around.
He’s worked hard to regain my trust, as well as that of our friends and family, and while some marriage counseling sessions can be more emotional than others, we’re both happy.
“Let’s get this cake cut, huh?” he says, picking up the knife beside the large white cake.
Fear and excitement fill my stomach, and I slide my arm around Jackson’s waist. Everyone holds their breath as he cuts into the cake, and the first slice slides out.
Our friends and family erupt.
I groan, and Jackson drops the knife to punch his fist into the air at the sight of the pink cake.
“Yes! I am victorious!”
“You’re a terrible winner. Stop crowing,” I complain with a smile, then laugh when he scoops me into his arms and whirls me around.
“We’re having a baby girl,” he says, his voice cracking as the emotion hits him as suddenly as it’s hitting me.
Our family and friends are laughing and cheering as they take pictures and record on their phones. But my eyes are full of Jackson, and his are full of me.
“Is this real?” I whisper, a lump in my throat.
This thing we’ve both wanted for so many years is happening, yet it still feels like I’m going to wake up and none of this is real.
His eyes glisten with tears. “Yes, this is real. I love you, Ellie Olsen.”
“And I love you, Jackson Olsen.”