Epilogue
epilogue
GAGE
Four Years Later
“Ava! We’re gonna be late!” I yell from the bottom of the stairs, hoping to leave soon to get to Quinn and Declan’s on time.
“I know, I know, I know,” she grumbles as she races toward me.
I grab her hand before she can rush past me. “Are you sure you’re good? I don’t want you to stress,” I tell her gently.
Her shoulders sag and she falls into me, her forehead resting against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, holding on tight. I know how hard this day is for her, and I wish more than anything I could take away her pain. Every year we gather on this day to celebrate Scott, and every year it hits Ava just as hard.
After Ava cut her parents out of her life for good, Scott became more of a father to her than Gregory Day ever was. That was one of the most remarkable things about Scott; he loved those he cared for as if they were his blood, no matter what. He loved her for who she was with no expectations, exactly like any parent should.
It was with his help and guidance that Ava truly accepted that it was okay to still be a lawyer, even if her parents pushed her into the career originally. I think it was his custody case that first sparked the thought that she could help people who really needed it like she first hoped to do when she got her degree. Of course, everything that happened with the bookstore and Murphy’s definitely gave her an extra push.
“I’m okay.” Ava lifts her head to look me in the eye. “I want to go; I just wish it got easier with time.”
I look at her, eyes filled with empathy and love. “Scott gave you the fatherly love you deserve. He made you feel encouraged, cherished, supported, and so much more. There’s no limit on grief. No expectation on how, when, or even if it’ll ever be easier.” I smooth her hair back from her face, cupping her cheek. “Let yourself feel that without judgment or expectation. He loved you, Ava. It’s okay to feel that loss.”
Her voice is quiet when she responds. “But it’s not like he was the only one. Your dad has loved me just as fiercely as Scott did. It’s not like I’ve lost that fatherly love completely.”
“We still lost someone we cared for deeply. Maybe we hold on a little tighter to those we still have, but we get to grieve our loss all the same.”
Ava takes a breath, as if stealing herself for all the emotions of the day to come, and pulls away slightly.
“I just don’t want you to stress about your feelings; they’re completely natural, and the stress isn’t good for you.” I drop my hands to her small bump.
Four years together, two years married, and all we’ve been through, we both know I’m protective of Ava. But these last five months have been worse than ever before. Two miscarriages will do that to a person.
I have no reason to believe anything will happen with this pregnancy. We’re well past the point when we lost the first two.
We didn’t even know Ava was pregnant with the first when she miscarried. But it was that miscarriage that told us we were both more than ready to grow our family.
Even with being five months in, and everyone constantly reminding me that everything looks perfect with this baby, I can’t stop the little voice in my head from convincing me otherwise.
Luckily, my wife is an understanding woman who never judges me when those voices get too loud.
She lifts her hand to cup my cheek, a gentle smile on her face. “We’re doing good, honey. I promise.” And as if the little pea can hear us, I feel a light push under my hand.
My eyes immediately bounce down to her stomach and back to her eyes. “Was that…”
Ava’s beaming smile is the only answer I need, but she nods anyway, tears welling in her eyes. “Yeah, that was a kick.”
“I haven’t felt that before.” I fall to my knees right there at the bottom of the stairs and place both hands on her stomach.
“I know.” Ava laughs through her tears. “I think he’s trying to tell you we’re fine.”
“Stop calling our little pea a boy. We don’t know.” I press my lips to Ava’s stomach. “She doesn’t mean it,” I whisper.
I don’t have to see it to know Ava rolls her eyes. “You know, we could solve all our problems by letting the doctor tell us what we’re having.”
“We could, but where’s the fun in that?” I grin up at her from the floor.
“Oh my gosh! Get up! We’re gonna be late.” The smile on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes tell me exactly what she’s really feeling in this moment—pure and utter happiness.
It’s a feeling I know I mirror right back at her.
“I love you, little pea,” I mumble against her stomach before standing. “And I love you more than I ever thought possible,” I murmur against her lips.
“I love you, too.”