30. Rex
— ? —
Rex
I had closed billion-dollar deals without blinking, and I had never been this terrified.
The hospital room was too bright, too loud, too full of machines and monitors and medical professionals who seemed entirely too calm about the fact that my wife was in active labor.
Freya lay in the bed, her face flushed with exertion, her hand crushing mine with a strength I hadn’t known she possessed.
“You’re doing great,” I told her. “You’re amazing. You’re-”
“If you say one more encouraging thing, I will murder you.”
“Noted.”
The contractions were coming faster now, closer together.
The doctor had pronounced her fully dilated twenty minutes ago and told her to push when she felt ready.
She’d been pushing ever since, and I’d been standing beside her, completely useless, watching the strongest person I’d ever known do the hardest thing I’d ever witnessed.
“Almost there,” the doctor said. “One more big push.”
Freya screamed. It was a sound I never wanted to hear again, a sound that would haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. Her whole body arched, her hand gripping mine so hard I felt bones creak.
And then there was crying.
Not Freya, though she was crying too, tears streaming down her face. A new sound. Small and furious and absolutely perfect.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor announced, and then there she was, tiny and screaming, placed on Freya’s chest while nurses bustled around cleaning her off.
Our daughter.
Alma.
“Oh my God.” Freya’s voice was barely a whisper. “Oh my God, Rex. Look at her.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat was too tight, my eyes burning with tears I didn’t bother trying to hide. I just stood there, staring at this tiny creature who’d just entered the world, who was already the most important person in my universe.
“Alma,” Freya breathed. “Hi, Alma. Hi, baby girl. We’ve been waiting so long to meet you.”
The baby’s cries slowly quieted as Freya held her close, skin to skin. I watched my wife. My incredible, exhausted, perfect wife cradled our daughter with a tenderness that broke something open in my chest.
“She has your nose,” Freya said, looking up at me with a watery smile.
I leaned closer, examining the tiny face. “Poor kid.”
Freya laughed, and it turned into a sob, and then we were both crying and laughing at the same time while Alma squirmed between us.
“Do you want to hold her?” the nurse asked.
I froze. “I- yes. Yes, but I don’t- what if I-”
“You won’t drop her.” Freya’s voice was gentle. “Take her, Rex. Meet your daughter.”
The nurse helped transfer Alma into my arms, showing me how to support her head, how to cradle her properly. She weighed almost nothing. A few pounds of perfect humanity, staring up at me with unfocused eyes.
“Hi,” I managed. “Hi, Alma. I’m your dad.”
She made a small sound, not a cry, more like a sigh, and something in my chest shifted permanently into place.
I’d thought I understood love. I’d loved Freya with everything I had, would have died for her without hesitation. But this was something different. Something bigger and more terrifying and absolutely unconditional.
“I’m going to mess up,” I told her quietly. “I’m going to make mistakes, probably a lot of them. But I promise you this, Alma Waller, I will never stop trying to be the father you deserve. I will never stop fighting for you, protecting you, choosing you. Every single day.”
Alma blinked up at me, and I could have sworn she understood.
“I love you,” I said. “I’ve loved you since before you existed, and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”
Behind me, Freya was crying again. I turned to find her watching us, her face radiant despite the exhaustion.
“Give me back my baby,” she said, holding out her arms. “You can bond with her after I’ve had a nap.”
I laughed and carefully transferred Alma back to her mother. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, one arm around Freya’s shoulders, watching our daughter’s eyes slowly drift closed.
Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten. Dawn creeping over the horizon, painting everything in shades of pink and gold. A new day. A new life. A new beginning.
“I’m never letting you go,” I said. “Either of you. Whatever happens, whatever challenges we face, we’re in this together. All three of us.”
Freya leaned her head against my shoulder. “I’ve always known. Even when I doubted everything else, I never really doubted that.”
We sat there as the sun rose, exhausted and overwhelmed and happier than I’d ever been. Alma slept on Freya’s chest, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of mine. The machines beeped softly, nurses moved in and out, the world continued to turn.
But for us, time had stopped. There was just this moment. This perfect, terrifying, beautiful moment, and the promise of all the moments to come.
“The island,” Freya murmured, her eyes already closing. “As soon as she can walk.”
I pressed a kiss to her hair. “It’s a date.”