“I mean…” I swallowed, then let the truth slip out. “I’m already pregnant.”
His eyes went wide, the phone slipping from his hand onto the bed. I couldn’t help laughing. “Cam, we’ve been going at it like rabbits these past months, and I haven’t taken my pills in ages. Of course you knocked me up!”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sloane
It was a breathtaking wave of déjà vu, watching him cradle our newborn son, Nicholas Xander Davis, for the very first time. The world seemed to hush and soften around us until there was nothing but the three of us in a bubble of timeless love.
My heart swelled, brimming with a memory so vivid it felt like I was living two lives at once. I was pulled back to the day our daughter, Harper, was born, when he held her with the same awe. It was an echo, a perfect moment returning to bless us again.
His expression was the same as it had been then—beautiful, mesmeric, eyes wide open with wonder. I remembered it clearly, yet seeing it again now, etched into his face as he gazed down at our son, nearly undid me. His emotions overflowed in silence, a raw depth of his love. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, shimmering under the light as they flickered between the tiny, perfect features of our baby boy and back to me. He was captivated and overcome by emotions.
He parted his lips as if to speak, to give shape to the joy trembling within him, but no words came. He was too choked up, too undone by the miracle resting trustingly in his arms. At last, a single tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. It was the most eloquent sentence he had ever spoken.
From my bed, weak yet wonderfully worn out, I managed only a tired smile. Small as it was, it carried the entirety of my heart: my gratitude for him, my awe for our son, and my love for the family we had built. He saw it, and something in him softenedeven more. His answering smile was brighter and stronger, a sun breaking through the clouds of overwhelming emotion.
“Come here,” I whispered, my voice rough with exhaustion. “I want to hold him.”
Cameron crossed the room slowly, careful with every step as if our son’s sleep might be disturbed by the slightest misstep. He held Nicholas with steady reverence, then bent to place him gently in my arms.
I gazed down, taking in every peaceful detail of our son’s face—the tiny button nose, the gentle flush of his cheeks. A fierce wave of love surged up from the depths of my chest.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” I said softly.
Cameron could only nod, his throat working against the knot of emotion that still held his voice captive. He reached out, his finger tracing the curve of the baby’s head, his touch saying everything his words could not.
“He’s been a good baby,” I murmured, my voice carrying the memory of nine months of gratitude. It was true. My pregnancy had been gentle. Even the delivery had felt blessed, a swift and unexpectedly smooth passage that brought us to this moment of perfect peace. It felt like a gift, this entire experience, and as I looked from our son to the man who had given him to me, my heart felt too full to contain its joy.
“He’s going to be a good son,” I whispered. “He’ll look out for his sister.”
“Yes,” Cameron said quietly, finally finding his voice. “And he’s going to be handsome too.”
I laughed under my breath. “You can already tell at this age?”
His smile softened. “Of course. His mother is you.” He paused, his eyes holding mine. “You’re beautiful.”
I smiled at him. “I must look horrible right now.”
He shook his head, his fingers brushing tenderly against my cheek. “You look like a warrior who’s just won her battle. And it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I think I need a kiss.”
He grinned before lowering his lips to mine, a kiss soft and lingering, filled with the love we shared and the family we had created together.
When he finally pulled back, his grin widened. “I guess I needed that too.”
I chuckled. “Everyone’s outside? Do you want to let them in?”
“Yes!” He perked up, his grin breaking wide. “I bet my mom is already going crazy out there, probably pacing the hallway. And Caroline and Lina too, no doubt they’re both impatient to come rushing in the second we give the word.”
“Bring them in!”
“Okay.” He hurried to the door, and the moment it swung open, everyone poured inside—Harper, Anita, Caroline, Caleb, Lina, Gabriel, Dean, and Ben. Chaos erupted at once, voices overlapping, laughter and tears filling the room as they crowded around me.
“Mommy?” Harper whispered, staring at her baby brother in awe. “Why is he so wrinkly?”
“Because he’s just been born,” I explained gently. “You were like this too when you were born.”
