Prologue
Rachel ~ Past
Raffe hugs me around my shoulders as the nurse settles our perfect baby boy in my arms.
“He’s beautiful,” I whisper. I’m in awe. He’s actually here. It felt like it was never going to happen.
His tiny fist goes to his mouth, and he starts sucking hungrily on it. I’ve been waiting months for this moment. Even though I didn’t get to feel his little kicks and hiccups, he’s been on my mind every second since his birth mother chose us.
My husband dips his head and places a kiss on Jackson’s little forehead. When his eyes return to me, tears are streaming down his cheeks.
Raffe was in an accident that stole his ability to have children. When we found out why I wasn’t able to get pregnant, he beat himself up over it. It got so bad that one day he demanded I leave him. That was never going to happen. Raffe is the love of my life and, eventually, I was able to convince him I wasn’t going anywhere.
When he finally accepted our situation, we turned to adoption. I have to thank Bill for that. He’s the one who helped Raffe to see the beauty of caring for a soul you didn’t bring into the world. Raffe was there when Bill adopted Katie. He witnessed how much of a difference Bill and Candice made in her life. So, it didn’t take too much convincing.
We can only hope that we will have the same positive outcome for our baby.
The three of us snuggle into the hospital bed, and I have to say it makes me cringe a bit. I hate hospitals.
I haven’t told Raffe, but I’ve been sick. I have cancer. Actually, I haven’t told anyone. My oncologist thinks we caught it early enough, so there’s really no need to worry him. I’ve been doing my treatments in San Francisco. That’s how I’ve been able to hide it. He thinks I’ve been attending a lot of conferences. It’s been the perfect cover.
Raffe has dealt with enough in his life. I’m sure not going to add to it. It’s my job to take care of his soft heart. Not that he’s soft … just his heart.
Anyway, I have my final follow-up appointment next week. I’m really hoping Raffe can handle Jackson by himself for the few days I’ll be away.
“I’m so excited for everyone to meet him,” Raffe says as I transfer the baby to his arms. “Oh my god, he’s so tiny. Fuck. What if I break him?”
It makes me laugh lightly. “You’re not going to break him. Just keep his head supported. His neck muscles will take a while to develop.”
“You’re going to be so good at this,” he says, flashing me that gorgeous smile I fell in love with.
We spend hours cuddling with our son, and I can honestly say it’s been the best day of my entire life.
Before supper, a nurse carries in a box. “This is from the birth mother. She asked me to give it to you.”
I stand from the bed and walk over to her. “Are you sure she doesn’t want to meet us?”
She smiles at me sadly. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t. She’s actually being discharged.”
“So soon?”
The young nurse curls her lips between her teeth, realizing she’s said too much about her patient. She’s not going to say anything more.
I glance inside the box. It’s filled with letters for our baby. “Well, I’m glad she’s recovering so quickly. Please thank her for my husband and me. I’ll make sure Jackson gets these. We’re eternally grateful to her for giving us such a precious gift.”
After the nurse steps out, I tell Raffe, “I’m going to go outside to get a breath of fresh air.”
He nods, unable to take his eyes away from his new son. I give them both a kiss on the cheek and hurry out the door, following the nurse. I head down the hall and make it all the way to the elevator before changing my mind. She doesn’t want to meet us. I should respect her wishes.
I’m headed back to Jackson and Raffe when I see a young woman hovering outside the doorway of our room. Quietly, I slip around the corner to watch her. It has to be Jackson’s birth mother. She’s beautiful.
She wipes her eyes as she cries. I want to rush to her side and give her a hug. I want to tell her how much Raffe and I are going to love her little boy, but something holds me back. When she begins to walk my way, I dip into the bathroom, deciding to hide in a stall until I’m sure she’s passed.
The door creaks open, and the sink turns on. I feel like a stalker as I peek through the crack, watching her splash water on her face.
“Oh Raffe, you’re going to be such a good father. If one of us deserves happiness, it’s you,” she whispers to the mirror.
My heart begins to slow when I register that she’s just said my husband’s name. What is she talking about? How does she know him?!
