73. Jordan
Chapter Seventy-Three
Jordan
It finally felt like the world had stopped spinning backward.
The room still held that clinical smell, but breaking through it was Kate’s familiar perfume.
The same one she’d worn the moment everything changed.
I’d always connected that scent with falling in love with her, but now it carried something deeper.
It would always remind me of this—of her, of him, of the moment our world shifted again.
Outside the window, the city was asleep. Inside this room, everything narrowed to the little person now asleep on my chest.
We were being kept in overnight just to monitor him as he was early.
Not that we had anywhere to go from here in the middle of Rome.
Maggie, Chris, and my management team had been amazing.
They sorted everything. The hospital, our stuff at the hotel, things for Noah; they’d even convinced the sponsors to have a private plane waiting for us the minute we were allowed to be discharged. We were so incredibly lucky.
The early hours of the morning had crept up on us.
Kate was asleep, properly asleep, for the first time in what felt like days.
Her body was limp against the pillows, one arm draped across her stomach as if she’d forgotten he wasn’t still in there.
She looked so beautiful and strong. I didn’t know where to put the ache of it all.
Noah was on my bare chest.
Skin to skin. He was so tiny, perfect, and warm. His cheek rested just over my heart, the rise and fall of his breath syncing with mine, like we’d been practising the whole time.
Every so often, he’d make a small noise, a sigh, one of those brand-new baby squeaks that made my insides twist. I held him steady with one hand splayed over his back, his whole body fitting easily under my palm.
I could feel his weight, his warmth, the way he anchored me completely. I probably should have been asleep, too, but I couldn’t stop looking at him. I didn’t think I ever would. I was completely undone.
“Hey, little mate,” I whispered, brushing a fingertip down the soft curve of his back. Feeling the downy hairs on his perfect skin. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
He didn’t stir, but his lips moved a little, like he was dreaming about something already.
Probably milk or Kate’s voice. He looked like me.
Poor kid. But I’d take it; he was perfect.
That head of thick, dark hair, those tiny fingers that had already wrapped around mine like he was never letting go.
Kate had done this. She’d given me this.
I glanced back at her lying in that bed and swallowed hard.
She had been incredible. Stronger than I’d ever seen a person be.
She was scared, but she’d never backed down.
I would never forget the way she gripped my hand, the way she locked eyes with me and pushed through every last contraction, just to bring him here.
Just to bring him to us. I would never forget that, for as long as I lived.
I kissed the top of Noah’s head, then rested mine against it.
“You’ve got the best mum in the world,” I murmured. “No question.”
I stayed like that for a long time. Minutes, maybe hours. I didn’t care. The rest of the world could wait. For the first time since I was a kid, I didn’t care about tennis, or trophies, or rankings. I had everything I needed right here.
My phone buzzed quietly on the table next to me.
I shifted, just enough to reach it without waking either of them. A text from Chris, and a link underneath it.
Chris
Front page tomorrow. You’re gonna want to brace.
I opened the link, heart beginning to pick up pace from previous headline trauma.
A photo filled the screen. Me mid-serve, roaring in the middle of the match. Another underneath— Kate in the crowd, wincing, hand clutched to her stomach. And the headline in bold:
Rome Winner and New Dad: Jordan Taylor Claims Italian Open Hours Before Son’s Birth
My stomach flipped.
It was everywhere already.
The article gushed about my comeback, the crowd, the perfect timing of it all. “The fairytale ending,” it read. “A new chapter begins, on and off the court.”
I looked down at Noah, still asleep, nestled into my chest.
I smiled. Yeah. A new chapter. And it was better than anything I’d ever imagined.
I put the phone away, wrapping the blanket back around both of us. I kissed the top of his tiny head and let my eyes drift back to Kate.
Let the world talk. They could have their headlines and fairytales. We were just getting started.