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When we’re done, and our bodies are quiet and still, I creep into Leo’s room to find him sleeping soundly—butts up coconut—in his crib. I take his temperature again and sigh with relief at the reading. I change his diaper, through which he sleeps like a rock. And, finally, I return to my room, to the bed I share with my wife, and crawl in. “His fever went down again,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around Georgina and pulling her body into mine. “Thank you for coming home.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
The moonlight is wrapping the room in a serene, blue haze. Georgina’s skin is warm against mine. My son is safe and sound and fast asleep, and the baby monitor is turned to high. And so, I close my eyes and give myself permission to drift off to sleep.
As my mind begins to float, a feeling of gratitude and serenity—pure love—washes over me. Many moons ago, this fireball in my arms saw something inside me I didn’t see in myself. She saw something I didn’t even know was there. And now, thanks to her, the one and only Georgina Ricci Rivers, I’ve become the husband and father—the man—I was always meant to be.
THE END
