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“It’s not really optional by this stage.”
I guess not, and I return my attention to Ella, who’s closed her eyes, presumably to make the most of a few moments’ peace. They shoot open again within seconds and she grabs my hand even tighter than ever, a throaty cry coming from deep inside her.
“That’s great, Ella… keep going… keep…” The midwife stops talking and Ella suddenly slumps… and after just a couple of seconds, I hear our baby’s first cry, and my heart bursts.
“I think I could look at you like that forever.”
Ella’s sitting up in bed, Henry cradled in her arms, and I can’t stop staring.
“Don’t,” she says. “I’m a mess.”
“You’re beautiful.” I lean in and kiss her for the hundredth time today. “You’re the bravest woman I know.”
We’ve been sitting here by ourselves for about an hour now, the midwife having left us to get to know our son, and I still can’t stop looking at him. He has a shock of dark hair, and the bluest of blue eyes, and he keeps gazing at Ella, like she’s the most precious thing in the world… which, of course, she is.
“Can you do something for me?” she says.
“Of course. Anything.”
She smiles. “Can you call my brothers?”
I nod my head and pull my phone from my back pocket. Hunter gave me his and Drew’s numbers a couple of weeks ago, just in case, and I look up his details first. He answers promptly.
“Mac? Is it Ella?”
“Yes… well, Ella and the baby.”
“She’s had it? Him, I mean?”
“Yes. About an hour ago.”
“And they’re both okay?”
“They’re both perfect.”
I hear him sigh, knowing how relieved he’ll be. “Livia and I are gonna come down tomorrow. Do you think Ella will be home by then?”
“Yeah. They said she can go home in the morning, so I guess she’ll be back by the time you arrive.”
“Great. We’ll see you all tomorrow. Give Ella a kiss from me, will you?”
“I will.”
“And congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
We end our call and I glance at Ella, who’s gazing at Henry, her eyes filled with love, a smile twitching at her lips. I love hermore than ever, and I need to tell her that… and a few other things besides. But first I need to call Drew.
He takes a little longer to respond, and I half expect the call to go to voicemail, just as he picks up.
“Sorry I took so long. I’m at the airport.”
It’s a strange greeting, but nothing about Drew’s life surprises me. He rarely even sits down these days.
“Which airport?”
“Logan. I’m flying to Rome.”
