Chapter 54 - Tessa
At first, I just sat on the edge of the bed, both hands cupped under my belly, breathing through it, talking to her through it.
“Okay, little one,” I whispered. “If this is really happening… we’re doing it together.”
By six in the morning, the contractions had a rhythm. By seven, they were all-consuming.
Kenzie arrived, bedhead messy, hoodie half-zipped, eyes wild.
“You should’ve called me earlier,” she scolded, already helping me step into shoes that I hadn’t been able to see for weeks.
“I wanted one more hour,” I panted. “Just… before everything changed.”
Kenzie didn’t argue with that. Maggie met us at the hospital. John had barely parked the truck before she was tumbling out and racing to get to my side, her hand warm and steady on my back.
“You’re okay,” she murmured. “You’re doing beautifully.”
Beautifully wasn’t the word I’d use for the way my body felt like it was splitting open, but I nodded.
A contraction hit hard and sharp, bending me forward. Kenzie and Maggie helped me through it.
And then everything blurred: hallways, bright lights, and those awful hospital gowns.
The delivery room felt both too big and too small. I gripped the rails of the bed as another wave crashed through me. Maggie brushed the hair from my forehead.
“It’s okay to cry,” she whispered.
“I don't need to cry,” I lied.
Kenzie snorted. “She lies when she’s scared,” she told the nurse.
“I’m not scared,” I snapped between breaths.
Another contraction hit.
“Oh god, okay... I’m scared.” I cried out.
They laughed through their tears.
Hours passed, and Kenzie told me the waiting room was packed and that the nurses had tried to clear out the hockey team, but they wouldn't budge.
How Eli was pacing outside my room, and how John was standing at the end of the hallway, waiting to meet his granddaughter.
Adam and Chase were keeping the other moms at bay, but they would be here the second they were given the green light.
It felt like this moment was zeroed in on the pain and contraction and whispered support in between each hard breath. And when it was time, really time, my whole world narrowed to the sound of my own breath and their voices.
“You’re doing so good.”
“One more, Tessa.”
“Almost there.”
“Yes... like that... good girl.... yes. Push, keep going...”
Then... silence.
One suspended heartbeat of silence.
And then... a cry.
A small, sharp, furious cry that cut straight through my bones and stitched something back together in the same breath.
“Look, Tessa,” Maggie whispered, voice trembling. “Look at your daughter.”
My daughter.
They laid her on my chest, warm and slippery and real.
So real, I thought my heart might stop and burst all at once.
She was tiny and pink and loud. Her fingers unfurled like petals against my skin.
I kissed the top of her damp hair and everything, every grief, every ache, every jagged edge, pulled tight and then loosened all at once.
Maggie wiped tears from her cheeks.
Kenzie whispered, “Oh my, Tess…”
A nurse murmured encouragement I didn’t fully hear.
Because all I could see was her.
My baby.
My daughter.
Nate’s daughter.
Her tiny fingers flexed, brushing my skin, and it hit me so hard I gasped.
This tiny human was all mine. She was mine to protect, mine to love, mine to raise, and she would never know the version of the world that broke me. She would only know the one I build for her. Everyone moved around me, but I was lost in my daughter.
A soft knock pulled me from the haze.
“Are you ready?” Maggie whispered, brushing hair off my forehead gently.
I nodded. “Yeah… let them in.”
Kenzie cracked open the door. And then in walked Eli and John. They approached slowly, as if stepping into something sacred. Eli froze mid-step when he saw her. His hand lifted to his mouth, his shoulders trembling.
“Tess,” he breathed. “She’s beautiful.”
John removed his worn cap, eyes glistening. He stepped closer and swallowed thickly.
“She is perfect,” he murmured. “You did good, Tessa.”
Maggie choked on a small laugh-cry.
I looked down at the tiny face pressed to my chest, then back up at the people who loved her already.
“I want you to meet her,” I said, voice trembling but sure.
Everyone leaned in without crowding, a circle forming around us.
“This is…” I steadied my breath. “This is Elodie Carson.”
The moment her name left my lips, something in the room shifted, softened, like the air itself bowed in welcome. Like this was always how it was meant to be, her coming into this world.
“Carson,” Maggie repeated with a smile that shook.
“Little melody,” John whispered. “Beautiful name.”
Kenzie leaned into her mom. Her hands clasped at her chest. “She’s already so loved,” she said, voice thick. “And she’s going to know all about her daddy, the good, the stubborn, the soft… I’ll make sure of it.”
A ripple of soft laughter went through the room.
Then Eli moved closer, and he placed a hand on her back, so gentle for a man so big.
“Hi, Elodie,” he said quietly. “I’m your Uncle Eli. And I… love you, little one. I’m not going anywhere.”
She opened her eyes right then, two dark, soulful pools blinking up at him.
Eli’s knees almost buckled. Maggie let out a broken sob.
Even John had to look away for a second.
The room fell into awed silence. And in that moment, surrounded by grief and hope and love twisted together, I felt something settle inside me.
Like for the first time in months, I wasn’t falling through space.
I was rooted.
To her.
To them.
To myself again.