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“Oh?” Sasha tensed, distracted. Patty had been right. They wanted to deliver the baby by surgery tomorrow morning and needed to discuss the various procedures, precautions, and risks today.
“I know Humbolt is supposed to hand the reins to you once you have a baby, but he’s likely to contest it, so I’ve put my lawyers onto drawing up paperwork that forces him to move out of your properties. Your mother will continue to receive her support payments and the use of one property, but she can only send you a letter—a physical one that you can choose to open or not—twice a year, on your birthday and Christmas. Otherwise, any contact has to come from you. Humbolt will be forced out of your life completely.”
“I...” She didn’t know how to react. It had been on her mind that she would have to start the process, but between her real concussion and fake amnesia and worrying about Molly, she hadn’t had the bandwidth. She certainly hadn’t planned to be so cold-blooded and final about it.
“There’s a small settlement if Humbolt goes quietly,” Rafael continued. “If he makes one move toward trying to maintain control, I’ll sue him for every crime I can think of from mismanagement to child abuse. You can make whatever changes you want. I just needed somewhere to put my anger,” Rafael said with a grim curl of his lip.
Sasha didn’t need to think about it. The fears that had kept her silent had dissipated now that she had faced them. She had her daughter back in her life and her husband was on her side. She would do anything to protect Molly and Patty, but she had a feeling Gio was also prepared to take up arms in their honor.
“Once a year is often enough to hear from my mother. Otherwise, it sounds perfect. Thank you.”
The following morning, for the first time, they all gathered in Molly’s room as she was wheeled out for her surgery. Patricia cuddled Libby on the sofa. Gio hovered like some sort of avenging angel.
Sasha put on a brave face, refusing to think of all those things they’d told her yesterday, but as soon as Molly was gone, she turned into Rafael’s arms.
The minutes passed like hours. When sixty had gone by, they all grew restless, eyeing the clock and the door and each other.
Then the doctor walked in.
“Congratulations. You have a son. Molly is in recovery. Things went very well, but the baby will need acute care for several weeks. We’ll take you to meet him in a few minutes.”
Sasha wilted, held up only by Rafael’s trembling strength. Then she had to let go so she could share relieved laughter and hugs with Patty and Libby. Even Gio hugged her and shook Rafael’s hand, saying a heartfelt, “I’m very happy for you both.”
Then she and Rafael were brought to the pediatric nursery, where they met Atticus. Libby had added his name to their short list and Rafael agreed that it suited their little fighter.
He was under a warm light in an incubator, cradled in a blanket patterned with seahorses. His diaper engulfed his desperately small form. He hadn’t had time to put on weight or grow hair. His limbs were thinner than Sasha’s pinky finger and wires were secured to his foot and arm and mouth.
“Put on this gown,” the nurse prodded gently. “Then we’ll set him on you for some skin-to-skin contact.”
When Sasha came back from changing, Rafael had his enormous hand inside the incubator. Teeny, tiny fingers were curled in an attempt to hang on to the tip of his index finger. Tears were standing in Rafael’s eyes, magnifying the love in them.
“Oh, love,” she murmured, ready to dissolve herself. She cupped his face and kissed his damp lips. Then she sat in a rocker and opened the hospital gown, accepting the weightless duckling that was her son against the swell of her breast.
While her own tears ran freely down her cheeks, Rafael fell to his knees beside them. As his warm hand settled on her thigh and his gaze ate up both of them, her heart settled into a state of peace she hadn’t known since... Well, ever. Not until now.
This level of happiness was new. It wasn’t naive. She knew they had struggles ahead, especially with such a premature baby, but it was going to be okay. Somehow, it would all be okay. She believed that.
And it was.
EPILOGUE
New York, one year later...
“OH, HELLO,” RAFAEL SAID, turning in the spray of the shower when Sasha slipped in to join him. “I thought you were still in Patty’s room.”
“Since tonight is the launch of my own initiative, I feel it would be good manners to show up on time for it.”
With Patty’s help, Sasha had put together a foundation to raise funds for organizations that offered resources for teen clinics and reproductive care for adolescents. Libby had decided against attending. They had made an announcement a few months ago, acknowledging that Sasha was her birth mother, but Libby didn’t want to be the center of attention tonight. Not when she could have her baby brother all to herself.
They saw Libby every month or two, and Atticus always gave her the same gooey grin he gave Molly, who visited even more often. He was still behind his peers in weight and development, but very middle-of-the-percentile when they factored in his due date. He was sitting up, starting to crawl and babbled all sorts of nonsense as he bashed at his toys.
“I got some hot gossip while I was in Patty’s room, though,” Sasha told him as she lathered her hands and ran them across his chest. “Libby asked Patty if she could homeschool so she could spend more time in Europe with us and Molly.”
“I’d like that. It always feels like there’s a piece missing when she leaves.”
“I’m sure Patty feels the same,” she said wryly. “Gio wants to buy her and Lib a house in Genoa. Patty’s on board, but she has a few clients she wants to stay and deliver first. One is a young woman who’s talking about placing her baby for adoption.” She lifted her brows to gauge his interest. “Patty doesn’t want to get our hopes up, but she said it might be worth our meeting her.”
“I’m ready to have that conversation.” He paused in running the bar of soap over her curves. “Are you?”
