Page 131 of Fractured Empire

“Perfect.” Mom beams. “I’ll let her handle that, then.”

“But…”

Her smile doesn’t fade. “Yes?”

“How can you love me? You don’t even know me.”

Oh my sweet, sweet boy.

He’s so curious in a blunt sort of way when he doesn’t understand something. Little does he know, it would be impossible to know him even a little bit without loving him.

“Oh, Bastian,” she sighs, looking like she’d like to wrap him up in a hug and never let go. “I know so much about you. Your mommy calls me all the time and tells me how great you are and how much she loves you herself. You remind me of her, you know? My Katya.”

Bastian’s eyes widen and his jaw unhinges. “I do?”

“Oh, yes, so much.” My mom nods. “You’re both so creative and talented, and you know, she was my first baby just like you’re hers. She told me how you like setting the table, and your manners come naturally, and that you’re an adventurer outside. Did you know my daughter used to like to collect bugs and bring them inside the house? Now she screams when she sees a little beetle.”

“Wow,” Bastian whispers, engrossed in my mom’s words. “So…you love me because I’m like her?”

“I love you because she loves you, and because you’re impossible not to love.” Her voice is getting weaker, like she’s fighting the urge to get choked up with emotion. “You make her so happy, and I’m so happy that she has you.”

“Okay,” he says after a moment, pausing and looking at her. “Nana.”

I have to flee the scene before I start pouring tears, breathing long and controlled breaths as I move away, fanning my face to keep from crying. Between all of the lovely family interactions today and my baby hormones going wild, I’m going to be showering in tears tonight after everyone leaves.

I couldn’t ask for a better group of people to surround me, let alone a better family to bring this baby into.

And to think, it all started with Leon Moretti searching for a wife.

Epilogue 1

Leon

Several Months Later

Sharp, shattered cries echo around the white room—the best sound I’ve ever heard.

“You have a healthy baby girl,” Katya’s nurse announces, lifting our screaming and slippery daughter out from between my wife’s legs. She’s red and covered with white waxy stuff and tiny streaks of blood from being born, but she’s alive and she’s fucking perfect.

Katya sobs as the baby makes it onto her chest, wiggling a bit until her mommy’s arms are around her to keep her steady. Her legs are shaking with adrenaline as she cries, sweat coating the hair that frames her face. It was a long and painful labor for Katya, especially since her epidural provided her barely any relief. A maddening reality that apparently can happen to some laboring mothers.

Still, she took it like a champ, bearing down and gritting her teeth through the worst bits while still breathing as much as possible. It was horrifying to see her in so much pain, and yet incredible to see her be so strong. I wasn’t in the room for Bastian’s birth until he came out and was wrapped in a tiny blanket, so this wild and raw experience of being here every step of the way is a first for both of us.

“Oh my God,” my wife croaks, tears streaming down her face as she looks from our baby over to me. “She’s so tiny.”

“Tiny and loud,” I chuckle, feeling my eyes sting as I take in the moment. Kissing her damp brow, I try to keep it together for her sake and for my own pride’s sake. “She’s got a set of lungs on her.”

“Kicking and screaming is exactly what you want to see and hear,” Doc informs us with a grunt. We ended up opting for him to deliver our girl just like he delivered all three of Jade’s babies. We’re in the hospital rather than at home, though, and we have a whole team of female nurses assigned to help take care of Katya and our daughter. “Want to cut the cord?”

He extends a small, sterile pair of scissors out to me and I take the offering, wanting to be able to do this for my girl. Doc moves to the side of Katya’s bed, clamping the cord with a plastic clip to prevent any bleeding and shows me where to snip. It’s over in seconds, and he nods, letting me know that it was done well.

“You’re going to pass the placenta in a minute here,” her nurse says, pulling me out of the moment. “We can wash her up and swaddle her right over there if you want.” Pointing toward the sink and table area of the room, she waits for a response without pressuring us either way.

“Should we?” Katya asks, looking unsure. “Rayna kept Vaughn unwashed for a while because the white stuff is good for their skin. But what if she’s cold?”

“Whatever we do is going to be okay, baby,” I tell her carefully, kissing her head again. “There’s no wrong answer.”

“We can rinse her off without rubbing the vernix, the white stuff,” the nurse provides helpfully. “And we can wrap her to keep her warm and after an hour or so we can clean her more thoroughly, if you prefer that.”