Epilogue
Two Months Later
Another party for a rugby wife.
This was starting to become a trend, with Emily and Liam’s wedding first, then mine and Michael’s, and who knew who was next to walk down the aisle?
But first, there was Emily and Liam’s soon-to-be little rugger to celebrate.
Whoever Emily and Liam hired for the couple’s shower went a little overboard on the decorations, in my opinion.
The person must have also not been Irish because the ‘Lucky’ theme with shamrock balloons hanging everywhere and bright gold tablecloths was definitely too much.
But it wasn’t just the dancing leprechaun table centerpieces that were making me nauseous.
Maybe it was the Pop Tarts that Michael still insisted we buy even though they tasted like cough syrup-flavored cardboard. I knew they reminded him of home in America.
We planned on going for a visit over the Christmas holidays and my chest swelled at the thought.
My parents weren’t in the picture, and now I had a whole new family, one I immediately adored.
And soon I’d have my first nephew, who I hoped to god they didn’t name Lucky or something equally atrocious.
The thought of it had bile rising in my throat.
“Are you okay, Babe?” Michael asked, wrapping his arm around my waist and enveloping me in his clean scent.
I still couldn’t believe most days that this gorgeous man in the tailored suit was my husband. And yet he reminded me every chance he got with stolen kisses in the office or telling me he loved me at the end of every text.
“I think I’m just going to use the bathroom and hope the designer didn’t post some shamrocks on the wall or spray the room with Lucky Charms,” I muttered.
Michael laughed under his breath before placing a small kiss under my ear. “Okay, but hurry back; there’s only so much of this Leprechaun hell I can take without you. Please tell me that our future baby shower won’t be this theme?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. We’d talked about a family and even started looking at houses and a dog, but hearing him talk about a future baby shower had my heart swell.
“It’s a deal,” I agreed, placing a quick peck on his cheek before heading toward the bathroom that thankfully wasn’t decorated.
I turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on my face. When I looked for a tissue to blow my nose, though, the box was empty.
I guess the decorator wasn’t concerned with the bathroom or refilling things.
I squatted down to the cabinet under the sink, checking to see if there was another box when something else caught my eye.
The big pink box.
I swallowed hard.
When was the last time I had my period?
True, I wasn’t always regular, but with my stomach churning…just maybe.
My heart beat in my ears, and before I thought better of it, I whipped one of the packages from the container and peed on the stick.
Putting an alarm on my phone, I sat and waited.
Waited.
My phone buzzed with a text from Michael.
Michael: Is everything okay in there?
Before I could reply, the alarm went off, and I stared down at the stick.
Two pink lines were staring back at me.
My breath caught in my throat as I snapped a picture and replied with it to Michael’s text.
The door burst open two seconds later, with Michael standing there wide-eyed.
“Is it true?”
I held up the stick, tears welling in my eyes as I nodded.
“Oh, fuck, Baby, I’m going to be a Dad,” he yelled, running and lifting me to my feet and spinning me around.
“You’re happy?” I asked once he finally put me down.
He wiped the happy tears from my eyes. “Of course I fucking am. It’s you and me, well…now…”
He trailed his hand to my stomach. “It’s all of us. Forever.”