Epilogue #2
“My wife’s in labor. Let me get her inside. Then the car will be gone . . .” I ignore his eye roll and the way his cheeks are turning redder because I dared disobey him while I help Haven out. “Clem, go and park. We’ll be on the third floor.”
We’ve visited the hospital often enough for appointments that I bypass the main reception and go straight to the lifts. Like every other time we’ve been here, there’s a certain calm to the maternity floor I’ve never noticed in a hospital before.
Everywhere is cream with pale blue and pink sofas in a seating area next to the reception desk.
Classical music plays softly from speakers in the ceiling.
I’m assuming the small water feature in the middle of the seating area is purposely designed to relax agitated family members.
Plants and greenery break up the decor, which is dominated by maquettes of babies in utero.
Outside, beyond the wall of windows, London stretches along the River Thames.
The chimneys of Battersea Power Station are lit bright against the evening sky.
“Good evening,” greets an exceptionally smiley receptionist. “How can I help?”
“My wife’s in labor. We called ahead. Dr. Arnett is our obstetrician.”
“Name please.”
“Haven Burlington.”
She’s typing away at her keyboard when Haven’s fingers grip the edges of the desk, and she bends double.
“Alex—”
My hand’s rubbing in circles on her back, and I’m glaring at the receptionist to hurry when Dr. Arnett pushes through the double doors and strides straight over to us. Her smile is as wide, if not wider than the receptionist’s.
It’s annoying.
“Haven, how’re we doing here?”
“Contractions are now five minutes apart. Her water broke around thirty minutes ago. She’s been in labor since this morning,” I tell her, fully prepared to throw Haven under the bus and add I didn’t know if Dr. Arnett chides me for not bringing her in earlier.
“How’s the pain threshold?” she asks, only for Haven to grunt her response. “Okay, let’s get you to your room.”
The receptionist brings around a wheelchair, which Haven sits in, and I push her along the corridor until we reach Haven’s room.
“The nurse will be in to help you gown up, then we can see how long you have. Does that sound okay?”
Haven nods and takes my hand to let me pull her up from the chair, and then she walks over to the bed where I left her bag. She’s already started unpacking when the nurse walks in.
“Babe, I’m going to check and make sure Clementine’s found us, okay? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I press a kiss to her head.
I make it to the bathroom before the suffocating weight of anxiety pressing on my chest bursts out in a loud sob that echoes off the tiled walls.
Holy shit. My second child will be arriving at some point in the next few hours, and the magnitude of it has finally hit.
I didn’t think I’d become a father again quite so soon, but I honestly couldn’t be happier that we’re adding to our family.
This year, I got to experience everything Haven went through with Everly.
I watched her body change. I was there when the baby moved for the first time, and I got to talk to it morning, noon, and night.
I ran out for ice cream in the middle of the night, and had air con installed in the cottage when the heat got too much over the summer.
And I’ve loved every single second.
I’ve been an emotional wreck because we’re sharing a new experience, the two of us. It hasn’t always been easy, and during the harder days, all I’ve thought about is Haven doing it alone the last time, but there haven’t been many moments to dwell on the past.
Haven and I have been busy, to say the least.
While our base is currently in England, we’ve traveled to Aspen once a month to check on the renovations at Wylder Ranch, and for Haven to catch up with Saylor. On occasion, Miles has joined us so he can spend time at the polo club.
Wylder Ranch will soon be big enough to house the whole family and more because once we decided to start it, it was alarming how many more things we wanted to add—mostly from Haven.
But we figured that expanding now would mean we wouldn’t have to make any more renovations in the future as our family got bigger.
And we’re planning to spend New Year’s there with everyone again, something we hope will become an annual tradition.
The ranch itself is still thriving. Burlington Estates now has a team working full-time harvesting the trees and replanting as part of a sustainability structure we developed. We’ve incorporated Haven’s store, so it’s open seven days a week and business is booming again.
My life’s changed so much for the better, I can hardly remember what it was like before Haven and Everly came along. And now we have the new baby joining us, which means I need to stop crying in the men’s bathroom.
Swiping my eyes, I blow my nose and wash my hands, then sprint back to Haven.
She’s in bed and wired up to machines monitoring her heart and the baby’s heart.
Her legs are in stirrups, and Dr. Arnett is examining her.
I try not to flinch every time Haven winces, but her bright green eyes widen every couple of seconds, so I drag a chair over to the side of the bed and take her hand.
Her dark-blond hair is pulled away from her face, and there’s a glow of sweat coating her forehead. Her cheeks are dusty pink, and all I know is that she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Okay, Haven. You’re progressing rapidly.
I think we’ll be seeing your baby in the next hour or so.
” Dr. Arnett moves over to the sink, knocking the faucet with her elbow so the water flows, then she snaps off her gloves and washes her hands vigorously.
“Get as much rest as you can for now. Your pain meds should kick in soon.”
My spare hand runs over Haven’s swollen belly. “Are you okay?”
“Alex . . .” She pulls me into her as much as she’s able, her eyes glistening. “Our baby’s coming. I’m scared.”
I’m grateful I had my meltdown in the bathroom because my head’s back and fully screwed on.
“It’s not going to be like last time. I’m here, Hayve. I’m here with you. You’re not alone now. And when we leave with our baby, there will be four of us: you, me, Everly, and the spud.”
“Our baby’s not a potato,” she wails. “Stop calling it that.”
I laugh, though it doesn’t last long because another wave of contractions begins, and Haven squeezes my hand so hard I think she might break my fingers.
I know these are bad because her breathing changes. Her groans become deep and guttural, and I have no idea what to do.
It all happens much quicker than I’m expecting and before Haven’s expecting it as well, because fifteen minutes later, when Dr. Arnett comes to check on her, she decides it’s time to start pushing.
I never expected to feel so utterly helpless as I’m shoved aside so Haven can get into a more comfortable position. What follows is the most stressful twenty minutes of my life, and I honestly couldn’t tell you how I got through it beyond channeling all of my strength into Haven.
Because my wife is a fucking superhero.
And only when Dr. Arnett shouts, “We’re out,” do I manage to take a full breath.
There’s a flurry of doctors and nurses as the baby is whipped to the side. I’m trying to split my focus between what’s happening and Haven, who’s totally exhausted.
“They’re just making sure everything’s okay,” I tell her before she asks.
After what feels like eternity, a loud, wobbly scream breaks through the noise, and I swear my heart starts beating again.
“It’s a girl. Congratulations, parents. Haven, you have done such a good job. Ten fingers, ten toes.”
Haven sobs, though her eyes don’t open. “Give her to Alex, please.”
Before I realize what’s happening, Dr. Arnett is standing in front of me holding my second daughter.
“Alex, are you ready?”
I nod, pulling off my gown and T-shirt so the baby can be placed on my chest. She’s so tiny and wrinkled, mumbling and gurgling as she settles down. I’m almost too scared to touch her.
“She’s perfect,” I whisper to anyone and no one.
Haven turns her head toward me. “What do you want to name her?”
I tear my eyes away from our daughter and lock into Haven. I know she’s giving me every chance to back out, but there’s no way. “We’re sticking with the first choice.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Positive.”
“Haven, let’s get her feeding,” Dr. Arnett says.
As carefully as I can, I stand up and take her to Haven, watching as our daughter latches on and eats as greedily as Everly does.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” Bending down, I press my lips to hers. “So fucking proud, Haven. Thank you for giving me everything I ever wanted.”
I stand there for a couple of minutes, but I know my entire family will be waiting outside for us even though it’s the early hours of the morning.
So while she’s feeding, I grab my shirt and walk out into the waiting room, where I find Lando, Holiday, the twins, my mum, and Clemmie.
Even Max is curled up on the lounge in his pajamas.
They’re all here.
I’m struggling to keep any form of composure as I take them in, all of them peering up at me eagerly through my watery eyes as they await any news I have to give them.
“It’s a girl. Wylder Sarah Victoria Burlington,” I sob out, and I can’t wipe my eyes quickly enough.
My mum rushes forward and pulls me into a hug, while the rest of them beam smiles across their faces as they cheer and offer congratulations.
Everyone except Max, however, who chooses that moment to wake up.
He lets out an overly dramatic, “Ugh. A girl.” His head lolls back. “Not another one.”