Epilogue
AYDA
“Ifucking hate you, Drew Tucker!” I screamed.
The pain in my body was immense, and I had been verging on exhausted hours ago. I was a mess, my hair stuck to my sweaty forehead, legs spread for the room, and stretch marks cradling my exposed belly. Yet, there stood my husband with his top off, looking perfect for the entire world.
But, I could see how tense the muscles in his bare shoulders were as I squeezed his hand. He was enduring the torture I was inflicting on him as yet another contraction rolled over me, and I was beginning to wonder what I’d done to myself when it finally eased enough for me to breathe again.
“Maybe hate is a strong word,” I mumbled as the nurse checked the machines.
Drew was scowling and trying to smile at the same time, but it came off as some weird kind of grimace, his eyes drifting to the hand I’d just tortured.
“You could never hate me, Ayda.” Leaning closer, he reached up to brush some damp strands of hair away from my face.
“And you can do this. You’re the toughest old lady I know. ”
“Old—” my words were cut off as the now familiar pressure started again.
My skin felt too tight for my body, and my grip tightened around Drew’s abused hand again.
They’d told me to hold off on the pushing while they’d made sure everything was okay, but the pressure was making it impossible.
For the millionth time, it felt like it was too much—like I couldn’t do this.
There was no way in hell I could push this baby out, not even when my body was demanding I do it.
“Ayda,” the doctor said, rolling her stool closer, in between my parted legs. This whole baby thing was really hard on my personal space. “This is it now. We’re ready. You can start pushing.”
I released a long breath, my eyes meeting Drew’s before I pulled in another. Digging my nails into the back of his hand, I finally started to push.
“Come on, baby,” Drew hissed, his body working with mine, leaning closer as though he wanted to push for me.
I would have let him, too. I felt like I was trying to shit out a watermelon.
I curled forward as I pushed with everything I had.
The pressure was so intense that I was convinced I was being ripped in two.
“You’re crowning,” the doctor offered in a way of an update, but I felt her reaction was delayed. I could feel the baby’s head pushing, stretching, burning.
“I can’t,” I wailed, trying my best to remember how to breathe. My eyes found Drew’s as my body took over and pushed with every ounce of strength I had. My fingers were buried so deep into the back of his hand, I couldn’t seem to release my grip.
I was contradicting myself it seemed.
A scream started and stuck in my throat as the doctor moved around between my thighs and smiled up at me. Her mouth was moving but the words were drowned out by my body’s sudden chanting of push, push, push.
“Stop pushing now, Ayda.”
What the fuck?
“Can’t.”
“The baby’s head is out, sweetheart, but we have to check that the cord isn’t around the neck.”
I felt my bottom lip tremble. My body demanded that I rid myself of this pain immediately. My head was almost fuzzy with the odd feeling of being held open.
“Holy shit,” Drew whispered beside me, his attention drifting to where the doctor’s hands were holding onto the baby we’d yet to meet.
I tried to lift my head to look, but I couldn’t see over my stomach while I was fighting to catch my breath.
“You’re doing so well, Ayda. Now we’re going to have you give one last big push for us.”
Sweat trickled down my forehead and slid into my eye, forcing me to brush it away with my free hand before pushing up on my elbows and curling around my belly. Gritting my teeth, I could hear the strangled cry tearing free from deep inside me as the pain soared to a point I wasn’t sure was normal.
Then, I pushed.
Time slowed down as the stretching sensation left my body.
The pain was receding, but my breaths wouldn’t come as a nurse cut the cord and swaddled the baby before whisking her away.
Drew and I looked after them, the time ticking painfully away until a high-pitched wail came from the other side of the room.
My skin broke out in goosebumps at the sound of our baby, and tears clouded my eyes, that cry making my arms ache, and my heart soar in my chest. Knowing that the baby was healthy had me searching for Drew.
His mouth was parted, his eyes wide as he stared at me, unable to believe the baby was here.
“You did it,” he finally whispered, wrapping a hand around my neck and dropping his forehead to mine. “Ayda, you did it. She’s here. Our little girl is here.”
I started crying. I couldn’t help myself.
I was so overcome with emotion that I just fell apart.
I needed to hold my little girl, see her beautiful face—kiss all ten fingers and toes.
Everything in me seemed to ache for it. But this moment with Drew, this moment called for something more.
Pressing my palm to his face, I pressed my lips against his and smiled a tearful smile.
“Our little Harriet,” I whispered sounding hoarse and weak.
Drew huffed out an emotional laugh, his eyes glazed as he stared at me in that way he always did recently… like he was in awe of me. “We’re fucking parents,” he said quietly. “We have a daughter.”
I held those beautiful eyes with mine for as long as I could, making a hundred unspoken promises to him and Harriet for our future.
My heart was pounding so hard that I found myself suddenly distracted by the new silence that descended over the room.
When I glanced over, I saw a beautiful little face peering from a blanket being offered to me.
Our little girl.
It took everything to not burst into tears when I accepted Harriet from the nurse. I cradled the tiny bundle to my chest and tried to catch my breath as I looked down at the utter picture of perfection I was holding in my arms.
Harriet Linda Tucker was beautiful in every way.
She stared up at me curiously, little grunts coming from her as I stared right back.
The connection felt instant, another small puzzle piece of my heart suddenly locking into place like it had always been there.
I loosened the blanket enough to find her tiny hands and the tiny fingers on them and ran my lips over them reverently.
I couldn't stop stroking her fingers and running my thumb down her cheeks. This tiny little human being had just come from me. She was already the best parts of Drew and me, and the most loved human on the face of the planet.
I glanced up at Drew the moment I was able to drag my eyes from our little Harry and smiled.
“You want to hold your daughter?”
“More than anything in the world,” he answered, with pure love shining from his eyes.
Slowly, and carefully, I placed our daughter into her father’s arms and watched as he pulled her to him.
I loved Drew. I had since the day I’d met him, but the sight of him with our baby in his arms, her cheek pressed against the hound on his bare chest, and her tiny hand wrapped around his thumb did something to me that I would never, ever forget.
All of his power and strength wrapped around her delicate frame with such love and adoration, I could feel it myself.
The sight of it warmed my heart and made tears flood my eyes as the future lit up like a sunny day.
Drew’s rough edges and darker days all melted away as he looked down on his daughter like she was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen.
I knew the feeling. For me, Drew had never looked so good.
Watching him rocking our baby back and forth in those powerful arms as he bounced in place, I knew this little girl would never know true fear.
He wouldn’t let her. I knew that her pain would always be eased by this man, who was already so in love with her, that he was lost to the world.
I also knew that she would always be loved by Drew, by me, and the entire MC family she would grow up surrounded by.
Harriet Tucker was going to be the brightest spark in our lives.
She was perfection wrapped in a swaddling blanket and cradled by the most perfectly imperfect man I had ever met.
This right here was my world.
These two divine beings were my life.
And really, it was only just the beginning.
“She looks like a little angel,” I said, propping my head up with my hand on my side of our enormous California king-sized bed, watching as Harriet kicked her arms and legs at the ceiling above her.
It was so good to be home with the newest addition to our family.
Harriet was wearing a ridiculously cute onesie with the Hounds logo that one of the girls had ordered for her in baby pink.
Happy little gurgles emitted from her when her daddy ran a finger over her miniature-sized palm.
We were besotted. Even sleep deprivation hadn’t stopped our complete adoration when it came to Harriet.
Every moment Drew spent holding her, rocking her in his arms and dropping little butterfly kisses all over her face, the more I fell in love with them both. The contrast of her delicate little body in his strong arms was indescribable. Watching him with her was one of my favorite pastimes now.
Glancing over at him on the bed, I smiled.
Since we’d moved into this house that Harry had given us, Drew had been peaceful, happy, and content.
Being here with Harriet seemed to take that all to a whole new level.
Reaching over, I traced his brow with a finger, not really saying a word in explanation, just needing to touch him.
I always needed that connection these days, whether it was with him, Harriet, or both of them.
It was almost as though I was making sure they were both still real, and this was my life.