Page 175

A couple of hours later, the nurse finally takes one look at the crowd still packed into the room and announces that the woman who just pushed out a whole human needs to sleep.

Nobody argues with her. Well, almost nobody.

She points at Colston on her way out. “And if you hide in the bathroom again, I’m telling them not to let you back in.”

Colston looks offended. “I was checking my hair.”

The nurse scoffs. “You were hiding.”

He mutters something under his breath while Trace herds him into the hallway with everyone else.

The door closes behind them, and the room feels weirdly huge without all the noise. Sunlight filters through the half-closed blinds, stretching across the floor, but time feels so distant after not sleeping and having our lives change so much so fast.

The adrenaline crash hits Goldie almost immediately. It’s only a few minutes before her eyes flutter shut and her breathing evens out into a deep sleep.

I’m sitting in the chair next to her bed, the room silent except for the soft, steady rhythm of Goldie's breathing and the quiet hum of the hospital sounds happening outside this room.

Frankie's asleep against my bare chest.

I stripped my shirt off a while ago for skin-to-skin time. She’s tucked under a blanket to keep her warm, her ear resting right over my heart. Her breathing's a rapid flutter against my skin.

I rest my chin lightly on the top of her head, my hand cupping her back, and look over at Goldie.

Her hair's a mess, but she looks so peaceful. One of her hands is resting near the edge of the mattress, right where I can reach out and brush my thumb over her knuckles.

"You see her?" I whisper into the quiet room, keeping my voice so low it’s barely a rumble in the back of my throat.

Frankie shifts slightly against my skin, letting out a squeaky sigh.

"That’s your mom," I tell my daughter, my vision blurring at the edges as I stare at the woman sleeping only a few feet away. "She’s the toughest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And you're so lucky you get to grow up loved by her."

I rub my thumb in small, slow circles over Frankie’s spine.

"She’s going to teach you so much," I murmur to my daughter. "She’s going to teach you not to take shit from anyone, how to be the best friend, and how to love exactly who you are."

I look down at the sleeping face tucked against me, and yet another tear slips down my cheek. I can’t seem to stop them today.

"And me?" I whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I’m going to make sure you both know I’m never going anywhere. I’m going to be the guy who fixes your broken toys, and chases the monsters out of your closet, and sics Colston on anyone who breaks your heart."

I shift my gaze back to Goldie, watching her sleep. Her stomach’s already so much smaller than it was.

I think I’m going to miss it.

At least until the next one.

I still think about that wedding ring at the bottom of the Gulf sometimes. Mostly I remember standing on the beach with Goldie beside me, listening to her talk absolute bullshit about sea turtles, and realizing I was actually smiling when a few hours earlier I'd wanted to get drunk enough to pass out in the sand.

The next morning, I told Goldie I’d wished for her to be exactly as crazy as she seemed and for our insane baby plan to actually work.

And I meant it.

I wanted a baby. I wanted a family. After finding out Delia had spent a year lying to me about both, that felt like more than enough to ask for.

I had no fucking clue what else I was going to get.

Goldie. Our daughter. A house that’s never quiet. Friends who show up whether we ask them to or not. A whole life that looks nothing like the one I thought I was supposed to have.

I pull Goldie’s hand toward the edge of the bed and lace my fingers through hers while I hold our daughter against my chest.