Chapter 32
[Tate]
When we arrived at the hospital, Lumi was there, but she relinquished her role as birth partner. If she hadn’t, I would have insisted it was my place.
I’m Little Wrench’s father, and her grand entrance into the world is here.
Thankfully, I’d been diligent about watching Neve, already going to her when I saw her double over the first time, and was there when she called my name, weak and pain-filled.
Once in a delivery room, Neve doesn’t play into any of the labor and delivery drama one hears about.
She doesn’t curse me. She doesn’t say she hates me. She barely even cries. Her whine is what does me in. Her grunts of pain. Her quiet strength as her body grips her, giving her limited relief, before contracting again.
The few words she does share almost break my heart and build my awe of her.
“Don’t leave me,” she begs, as she clenches my hand with brute force.
She might have simply meant don’t leave her side, but her words burrow deep.
She is asking me to stay.
“Not going anywhere,” I try to reassure her, kissing her knuckles and stroking her sweat-laden hair.
She is so beautiful. And such a fighter.
“You’ll stay right here,” she asks through gritted teeth at one point.
“I’ll be right here.” I don’t intend to leave. Not her or the baby. A plan is brewing, but the baby is the priority. Her birth comes first before the rest.
And after eleven hours of labor, the most incredible sight of my life joins the world.
She is handed to Neve, but I huddle close with my arm around Neve’s head and a hand on my daughter’s back. The baby stares up at Neve, curious but safe. She already knows this woman will love her above all else.
“Welcome to the world, Little Wrench,” I whisper to her head.
Neve chuckles, the sound soggy and full of exhaustion. “How do you feel about Wren? Wren Rustin Snowe.” Neve wrinkles her nose. “Or Wren Rustin Love.”
I bring my gaze to Neve’s tired eyes and blink my own. “I’d love that.” Then I whisper our baby’s name, “Wren.” Wren Love.
“Means resilience,” the nurse says somewhere over my shoulder, but I can’t take my eyes off the baby. Wren, or Neve.
“You’re resilient, Neve. And strong, and brilliant, and God, I just—” I cut myself off from blurting three words I’ve been holding back for days. Words I don’t want confused with this moment, because they are for Neve.
“You’re amazing,” I say instead, clearing my throat as Neve continues to stare at the wonder in her arms.
“She’s amazing,” Neve says with the same awe I feel inside me.
I kiss Neve’s head, uncertain I’ve ever been happier than this moment.