“They’re right here—in my arms. And I’m never letting go.”
I pressed my lips to his, my heart near to bursting with happiness and love. Preston had shown me the value of slowing down and savoring every moment. And this was definitely one I never wanted to forget.
Chapter Thirty
Afew months later
Everyone held their breath,waiting for the fateful cry. And then there was a loud wail, and I grinned at Alexis, holding her hand.
“It’s a girl!” cried one of the nurses.
“Did you hear that, beautiful?” I asked, smoothing her hair away from her face. She was lying on the operating table, and I was so incredibly proud of her. So in awe. “It’s a girl.”
She smiled, but it was a dazed smile. One that spoke of exhaustion and a cocktail of drugs swirling through her system. “Sophia’s going to be thrilled.”
I stayed there with her while the doctors finished stitching her up, watching as the nurses fussed over our daughter.Our daughter, I thought, letting those words sink in.
“We did it,” Alexis, said, but her eyes nearly fluttered closed.
I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You are amazing.”
“I don’t feel amazing. I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck,” she muttered.
I combed my fingers through her hair, watching as her eyes closed and her face relaxed. “Just rest.”
They wheeled us to our room, and then rolled in a tiny bassinet with a little bundle of pink nestled inside. The nurse carried our baby over and set her on Alexis’s chest, helping her move the hospital gown aside.
“She’s beautiful,” the nurse said with a soft smile.
“Just like her mother,” I said, drinking in the scene. Alexis was so fucking beautiful. And she was my wife, the mother of my child.
“I’ll give you some alone time. Page me if you need anything,” the nurse said before disappearing to the hallway.
I stood there a moment just watching them before taking a seat on the bed next to Alexis. I could already see the immense love she had for this baby, and I felt it too. We’d waited to find out the baby’s gender, and discovering that she was a girl after all had been the sweetest surprise.
We stayed there, cocooned in our own little world with our new baby girl. “Do you want to hold her?” Alexis finally asked.
“I’ve been dying for you to ask,” I said, eager to hold our baby but not wanting to rush her.
Alexis carefully swaddled our daughter and then handed her to me. I stared down at her, cataloging her features—the blue eyes, the tuft of brown hair, her rosy lips. My voice was clogged with emotion, my heart overflowing.
“Hello, little one,” I cooed at her. “I’m your daddy.”
One of her little fists emerged from the blanket. “She’s so tiny,” I said, marveling at the size of her hands.
“Hard to believe Sophia was once that little.” Alexis looked down on her with a wistful grin.
“What do you want to name her?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off my beautiful daughter. My miracle.
Alexis pursed her lips. “I don’t know. I’m not sure any of the names we were considering suit her. Do you know what I mean?”
I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. “She doesn’t really seem like an Ava or a Madison to me. We have time to decide, right?”
“Yes, but I’d like to decide sooner rather than later. I don’t want to keep referring to her as the baby or baby.”
“Agreed.” I studied my daughter. “Who are you, little one? Are you an Amelia?” She didn’t say anything. “Or maybe a Sloan.”
“Not Sloan,” Alexis said.
