EPILOGUE I

Damian

“Aren’t you a doctor?”

“I am. But I’m better with broken legs than with babies.”

“Wouldn’t think it judging by that ego of yours. You’re so damn cocky I’d swear you’re an expert on anything?”

“Is that right?”

“Sure. If your doctor-ing talent actually matched your ego, you’d be able to pull of open-heart surgery while doing a brain transplant.”

“Brain transplants aren’t a thing, dear.”

Emma, nine months pregnant and looking like she was going to pop at any second, grabbed her suitcase by the handle and gave it a pull, followed by a grunt.

I ran around the dark red BMW X5 I’d bought in anticipation of the baby and grabbed the suitcase off the ground.

“Hey!” she said, surprised and a little indignant. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m stopping my massively pregnant girlfriend from lifting a fifty-pound bag off the ground. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I can get it, you know.” The expression on her face let me know she meant it.

“Damn, stubborn as ever.”

Her concentration turned into a broad, gorgeous smile. “I know. And that’s what you love about me, isn’t it?”

“One of the many, many things.”

“What a great answer. I’ve trained you well.”

I laughed. “Don’t push it, beautiful.”

Before she had a chance to react, I picked up the bag and brought it over to the back, tossing it inside with a heave.

“What the hell’ve you got in that thing?”

She opened the passenger-side door and climbed in, heaving her big belly into the seat along with the rest of her.

“What, too heavy for you?”

“Not too heavy. Just surprising. It’s only two days you know.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby. That’s his job. Or her.”

I wagged my finger at her playfully before closing the back of the car and getting into the driver’s seat.

“Alright,” I said. “We got everything we need for a weekend in the woods?”

“We do. Bags are packed, I checked the list twice, and your mom texted to let me know she’d be here later tonight to housesit. – her and the cats.”

I gripped the wheel. “You sure about this?”

She gave me a look that said, “come on – this again?”

“You don’t need to be so worried about me,” she said. “It’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that? I mean, you’re nine months pregnant and set to give birth in two weeks. Some might say that going to the middle of nowhere for the weekend isn’t the best idea in the world.”

She answered the question by reaching over and pressing the ignition. Then she smiled broadly.

“I’m serious. What happens if you give birth up there?”

“Then we give birth up there! We have a rugged, mountain baby. Sounds pretty cute if you ask me.”

“Yeah, sounds cute until you’re an hour away from the nearest hospital and your water breaks.”

“It’ll be fine. Worse comes to worse, you can deliver.”

I laughed. “You’re saying like that like it’s patching up a scrape.”

“Come on,” she said, squirming in her seat. “I want to see some mountains.”

Shaking my head, I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway.

“This place is supposed to be amazing,” she said, swiping through her phone at the pictures. “Carlos and Zea were talking my ear off about how it looks this time of year.”

I rolled down the windows, the warm August air filing the car, the breeze nice and cool now that we were on our way.

“They’re really fine with us crashing at their place?”

She gave me a confused look. “Why wouldn’t they be?

“I mean, when a couple stays at someone else’s place, it’s basically like asking ‘hey, you mind if we screw in your bed’?”

Emma laughed. God, I never got tired of hearing her laughter.

“Oh, you’re just assuming we’re going to be having sex? What if I want do have a nice, relaxing weekend?”

“You’re saying that now,” I said with a sly grin. “But wait until I start putting the moves on you.” I winked before turning my attention back to the road.

“Such a seducer.”

“Hey, if I weren’t, I never would’ve gotten you back, would I?”

The mention of all that, of what we’d been through last winter before we’d finally become an official couple, brought a warm smile to her face.

“We got back together because we’re perfect for each other,” she said, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “Whether you like it or not.”

“I like it. Most definitely. Everything about it.”

She leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek.

We drove on, and it didn’t take much time at all before Emma started squirming in her seat. I glanced over at her, the mountains whirring by in the distance.

“Let me guess – you have to pee already.”

“’Already?’ Hey bud, you put a nine-pound human in your belly and have it press against your bladder all day and see how good you are at not running to the bathroom every five minutes.”

I chuckled. “How about this – we stop and grab some snacks; you can run inside and do your business. I’ll get you a big empty water jug and you can go in that the rest of the way.”

She laughed. “You’d get more pee on the seat than in the bottle, just FYI.”

“Good point. Maybe you can just hang your butt out the window and do it that way.”

More laughter, this time a snort along with it. “Come on, quit making me laugh! You’re going to make me pee my pants.”

“It’ll be a real time-saver, you know? We could shave a good ten minutes off our trip that way.”

A turn-off was up ahead. I pulled into the exit lane and moments later we were in the parking lot.

“You go ahead,” I said. “I’ll meet you in there – gotta call the office and check on some stuff first.”

She gave me a cock-eyed expression, as if she didn’t quite believe me.

And if she thought I was fibbing, she would’ve been right. I had ulterior motives for staying in the car.

But before I attended to them, I watched as Emma waddled toward the gas station. Didn’t matter that she was nine-months pregnant, didn’t matter that she was about as graceful these days as a toddler on ice – she was still the most damn beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.

Hell, her pregnancy, knowing it meant she was about to bring my son or daughter into this world, only made her more gorgeous.

With a grin on my face I reached back and opened the center console. Inside, carefully hidden under some wrappers I’d placed, was a black box, small and velvet. After taking one last glance to make sure she was inside the gas station, I popped it open and gazed in awe at the contents.

I had to admit, I’d never been a diamond guy. That is, I never really got what the big fuss about them was. After all, they were just fancy, clear stones, right?

Wrong. Over the last month during my process of picking out a ring, I’d dug deep into the subject, turning into something of an expert. Well, far from an expert, but I’d learned enough about carats and princess cuts and heart cuts and all the rest to finally settle on the perfect ring for the woman I loved, the woman I wanted to make my wife.

The two-carat French-cut diamond glittered in the morning sun. It was beautiful, if I did say so myself. In fact, it was so damn gorgeous that I often found myself staring at the thing like I was hypnotized, watching the light glitter off all the smooth facets.

I closed the box and stuck it back in its hiding place. Then I hurried into the gas station just in time to bust Emma’s chops for buying a Emmant bottle of water – as if that’d ease the problem of her baby-squished bladder.

The rest of the drive went painlessly, Emma telling me all the crazy month at work she’d had. Business had been killer for the both of us over the last year, my private practice booming with clients, and their work with Second Chance keeping her nice and busy.

Thankfully Hannah was amazing, and Emma felt totally comfortable leaving the company in her capable hands for a month or two as she took some well-deserved maternity leave. And I was ready to take advantage of the downtime, not to mention the calm before the storm, and finally put a ring on the finger of the woman I loved.

“Wow,” Emma remarked as we parked in front of the cabin. “This place is beautiful.”

And it was. The building was a classic log cabin – though done up with a few modern conveniences –tucked among the towering pines of the area. The tallest peaks of the Rockies loomed in the sky above, and ahead the forest floor sloped down and concluded in a small, picturesque lake that looked perfect for afternoon strolls.

We went inside and were pleased to see the interior was cozy and clean, the furniture all handmade, a fresh, forest scent breezing through the place as soon as we opened the windows.

“Oh my God,” Emma said, poking her head out of the bathroom. “You have to see this bath.”

“A bath? That actually…sounds kind of nice.”

She grinned slyly. “Big enough for two.” Then she glanced down at her belly. “Wait, almost forgot about the kid. Maybe not, babe.”

I laughed as I opened one of the cupboards, spotting the tea stash. “Want some rooibos?”

“I’d love some!” she called out.

I filled the tea kettle and set it on the burner, turning it on before stepping outside, grabbing the ring box from the car.

Once that was taken care of, I stood on the porch with my hands on my hips, looking out onto the beautiful Manila vista spread out before me.

Life was good. And it was about to get even better. All I had to worry about was finding the perfect spot with the perfect view where I could propose to the woman I loved. I patted the ring box in my pocket. Just knowing it was there, what it meant, was enough to put a big smile on my face.

Yeah – I was thinking it was going to be a relaxing weekend.

“Uh, babe?” Emma called me from inside, concern in her voice.

“What’s up?”

“Baby.”

“I’m here – I heard you. What’s going on?”

“No. I mean, baby. Right now.”

Oh fuck.

Right at that moment the tea kettle whistled, the shrill sound cutting through the still air. I rushed into the cabin and into the bathroom. Emma was there, standing with her legs spread, on hand on the sink and the other against the wall.

And on the floor between her legs was liquid puddling at her feet.

“Well,” she said. “I think someone wants to spend the weekend with us.”

I hurried to the kitchen and took the kettle off the burner before going back into the bathroom and leading her into the living room, then into the first-floor bedroom.

“Contractions,” I said. “Are they bad?”

“I don’t know.” I helped her onto the bed just in time for a contraction to hit. I took her hand and helped her through it, Emma gripping onto my hand and squeezing it with some surprising strength. Her eyes went wide, and she groaned along with the pain.

“Like that one,” I said with a slightly ironic tone.

“I’m about to pitch you through that window if you make another smart comment like that, buster.”

“Just lightening the mood.”

“What do we do?” she asked. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”

“Thirty minutes back. And if this is happening as quickly as I think it is…”

“Yeah?”

“We might be doing this here. I need to get some stuff – stay put.”

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

I planted a quick kiss on her now-sweaty forehead and hurried out of the bedroom. In the kitchen, I grabbed a pot from under the stove, filling it with water and setting it to boil. After that, I found the first aid kit in the bathroom. Next were towels – lots and lots of towels.

And right as I started back to the bedroom, Emma let out another cry of pain as the next contraction hit. I checked my watch as I returned – the contractions were fast. This baby was coming, and he or she wasn’t wasting any time getting here.

“Is this normal?” she asked as I placed towels around the bed and helped her out of her shoes and socks, the contraction fading.

“Not normal – but not in a bad way. Sometimes babies are in a rush to show up.” I flashed her a smile.

“He’s just eager to see that pretty face of yours.”

She smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Dr. Cornball.”

I winked and hurried out of the room for just long enough to make a call to the nearest hospital. Yet another contraction hit as I finished the call, and I hurried back to Emma as quickly as I could.

I’d only been around a few births back in med school, but it all started to come back to me. The contractions drew closer and closer, and after a half-hour of pushing, the baby began to crown.

It was incredible. I was so stunned by it all, the fact that I was helping my wife give birth to my own child…it took some serious get-back-in-the-moment thinking to focus on the task at hand.

“Alright,” I called. “One more hard push and…”

Emma grunted as she pushed, the baby coming out and into my hands.

She wriggled into my hands, letting out a cry with some pretty damn powerful lungs.

“Girl!” I shouted, tears welling in my eyes. “We’ve got a girl!”

I cleaned a pair of scissors from the first aid kit and cut the cord, followed by using some of the now-tepid water from the stove to clean off my daughter.

My daughter. Just think the words was enough to give me pause, to make my heart hurt with joy.

And the sight of her in my arms, swaddled in towels and reaching up toward me with her little fingers…I’d never known anything like how I felt in that moment.

I brought her over to Emma, my love’s expression one of pure bliss.

“She’s so damn beautiful.”

I handed our daughter over, Emma taking her and holding her close.

“Gillian,” she said, looking up at me. “What do you think?”

“Perfect.”

I stood up straight and the moment I did, little Gillian reached out, her tiny hand brushing against the ring box in my pocket.

Emma cocked her head to the side, noticing it.

“What is that?”

Ah, shit.

“It’s…”

No time like the present.

“I was going to wait a little bit before I did this, but our little family’s already starting out in a pretty unconventional way.”

I slipped the box out of my pocket and opened it up. Emma’s eyes went wide as she realized what she was looking at.

“Emma Stone, ever since I--”

“Yes!” she shouted, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I will!”

So much for a big speech.

Nothing more needed to be said. I slipped the ring on her finger, Gillian watching silently.

“The perfect start to our perfect little family,” she said, gazing up at me with love in her eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more.”