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On day fifteen, I notice it. The smallest, tiniest movement in her left hand. Her ring finger—the finger that bears one of our matching wedding bands, along with the diamond engagementring I bought her the day after I filled her womb with my seed—quivers just a touch.
It’s barely anything. It’s so small, I could have easily imagined it. But I know I didn’t. I know it’s a sign that she’s coming back.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” I say, taking her hand, my own hand engulfing hers. “Come back to us, Sunny.”
Other tiny signs appear in the hours that follow. I notice some subtle movement of her eyes beneath her closed lids. Then a subtle shift of her head. Then her vital signs start improving, her heart rate and temperature moving toward normal levels again.
I stay by her side, unmoving, keeping her hand tucked into mine. Watching her, waiting, clinging to hope.
And then she opens her eyes. So slowly, but it’s everything.
“Thorne?” she mumbles, her voice fuzzy.
“I’m here,” I say.
It takes her great effort to swallow and speak again. “The baby.”
“She’s okay,” I say. “She’s doing great, actually.”
“She?” Sunny echoes. A broken laugh spills out of her. “A girl?”
I smile. “Yep. A little girl.”
“I want to…see…her,” Sunny struggles to say, furrowing her brows as she fights away the fog.
“You will,” I promise, and lean forward to press a grateful kiss to my wife’s forehead. “She’s so beautiful, Sunny. She looks like you.”
10
SUNNY
FIVE YEARS LATER
“What do you think, sweetie?” I say, looking at the boxes of valentines on display at the store. “Which type do you want to give out?”
Valentina scrunches up her adorable little face as she considers the options. Then, with sudden decisiveness, she points at a box of donut-themed valentines.
“Those ones,” she says.
“Nice choice,” I say.
Valentina grabs the box from the shelf and happily drops it into our shopping cart. In the front seat of the cart, Theodore wriggles impatiently.
“Can I give a valentine to Teddy, Mom?” Valentina asks as we continue down the aisle.
“Of course, honey,” I say, smiling.
“And one to you? And to Daddy?” she asks.
“That would be very sweet of you.”
Valentina thinks for a second, looks at my stomach, then says, “I’m not going to give valentines to the twins, though. Because they aren’t born yet.”
I laugh. “Makes sense.”
“They’ll be here beforenextValentine’s Day, though, right?” she asks.
“Oh, yes. Well before,” I say.
