EPILOGUE
ALMOST NINE MONTHS LATER
SOPHIE
A sharp pang jolts me awake.
Blinking, I’m vaguely aware of the moonlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains. I’m more keenly aware of the tightness seeming to grip my swollen belly.
Panic lances my heart, and turning onto my back, I clutch my stomach. Holding my breath, I wait with bated breath. Snoring softly next to me in bed, Cliff’s strong arm drapes protectively over me.
Several minutes pass until another sharp pain clenches and spreads. This time I bolt upright, and Cliff’s arm falls to the side.
With a soft snort, he turns to his other side and falls back asleep.
Protectively stroking my belly, I start counting the seconds between the pains. I count to one hundred several times over, losing my place as my heart thunders in my ears and my breath hitches.
When the pain rolls through me for a fifth time, I know this is nothing like the Braxton Hicks pains I’ve been experiencing for the past several weeks. My heart pounds. Equal parts of fear and excitement course through my veins.
“I’m having the baby.”
“Hmm?” a sleepy Cliff asks.
“I’m having the baby,” I repeat more clearly, stifling a sudden urge to laugh.
“What was that?”
“Cliff, wake up.” I nudge him once. Twice. “I’m having the baby. We’re having the baby.”
His eyes fly open. “Did you say you’re having the baby?”
“Like, ten times.” I finally give in to the urge to laugh. “Honey, I think it’s time.”
“Okay.” He swallows hard. I can tell he’s trying really hard to keep his tone steady, though the wildness in his dark eyes gives him away. He rubs his face and blinks rapidly, still trying to wake up.“We’re going to have the baby. We’ll call the doctor. I’ll grab your suitcase. Then I’ll—”
“Gah!” Another pain shoots through me. This one is more intense than any of the others. I instinctively grab his arm and squeeze while I ride out the wave. When it finally passes, I release my hold and give Cliff a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. I—”
“We need to get you to the hospital.” He jumps out of the bed. His eyes are wide open now, and all hint of sleepiness is gone. “You stay here.” He brushes the hair away from my face and kisses my forehead. “I’ll take care of everything. Just… relax. Or breathe. But don’t—DON’T—start pushing.”
I can’t help but grin in amusement as he runs back and forth across our bedroom. He opens his dresser, pulls a pair of gray sweatpants over his boxer briefs, and then races to the other side of the room to rummage through my dresser to grab one of my loungewear sets.
He offers me the clothes, pausing to ask if I’m okay, and gives me another kiss, before running back to the other side of the room to dig through the items on top of his dresser.
While he mumbles something about never being able to find what he’s looking for, I swing my feet over the edge and pull on my clothes.
My bottom lip sticks out. “I’m going to need help with my shoes.”
Cliff continues digging through the top drawer. “What was that?”
“I need help with my shoes.” My voice breaks with my confession.
I haven’t seen my feet in weeks. There’s no point crying about that now, but I’m in very real danger of doing just that.
“Hey.” Cliff kneels in front of me, massaging my knees. “I’ve got you, honey.”
A single tear slips down my cheek. “You’re so good to me.”
“Only because you’re even better to me.” Cliff’s eyes soften and his lips curve up. “I love you.”
He gives my knees one more squeeze then slides my shoes onto my feet. Holding my hand with one of his, he slides his other arm around my back and helps me stand.
Leaving me to lean against the door, Cliff once again looks around the room. He mutters to himself. “Where the fuck are my keys?”
I brace myself against the door. “They’re on the table by the front door,” I say through gritted teeth as another pain starts. “Next to the hospital bag.”
“Oh. Good.” Cliff sighs in relief. “That was smart of us.”
His panic is back as I start to groan. Cliff practically carries me to the front door, somehow managing to grab the keys and my bag. He’s so gentle and so supportive, it takes the edge off my pain.
I’m not aware of most of the drive to the hospital.
I’m focusing on the breathing I learned in the yoga class I finally took and thinking about a calm, peaceful place.
Cliff, for the most part, is an angel. However, a bit of a devilish side flashes up any time he comes across a driver who he thinks is going too slowly or driving too recklessly.
By the time we walk through the hotel doors, I’m about as close to Zen as I can get with the prospect of pushing a watermelon out of my body. Meanwhile, poor Cliff is nearly pale as a ghost with fear.
“My wife is having a baby,” he announces. “We called the doctor on our way. How fast can you assemble the rest of the team?”
The admissions nurse and I share a smirk.
It’s as if he’s calling for the Avengers or Justice League.
Or maybe both. I fell asleep when we watched all of those movies.
Just like I fell asleep during every other movie we’d put on in the evenings while we snuggled up together in front of the fireplace in the new home we built together on his land in Alaska.
In my defense, I was growing a human and building my business as a freelance graphic designer.
While Cliff would have been more than happy to move to Seattle to be with me, in the end, we decided we wanted to raise our kids close to Slate and Winter, who are also expecting their first in a few months.
It’s crazy to think about how much all of our lives have changed this past year.
Cliff scowls our way into the delivery room, barking requests and orders even as he babies me with soothing words. Once I’m changed into my hospital gown and settled in the bed, he switches over completely to my cheerleader and coach as I battle through contraction after contraction.
I lose track of time. People come in and out of the room. But through it all, Cliff’s steady gaze and comforting words cut through the haze. They’re my compass until the doctor gives the command to push.
And, after what seems like an eternity, our baby is here.
She’s here.
We watch in wide-eyed wonder as the doctor sets our daughter on my chest. I’m so awed by her—so in love with her—I can barely speak.
“Oh, Sophie,” Cliff whispers, his voice gruff with emotion. “She’s beautiful and sweet.”
I glance up in time to see his eyes grow uncharacteristically misty. “She’s perfect. Just like her mama.”
“I love you,” I mouth to him, closing my eyes in contentment as he lowers his forehead to rest against mine.
As our baby's cries settle into coos, as the adrenaline of the final push wears away, I’m aware of how lucky I am.
I have a healthy baby. I have a wonderful husband. I have a life full of love and comfort. I have a family. It’s even better than I could have imagined.
Thank you for reading!