Page 248 of Diego

Whatever smart answer might have come naturally disappears before it forms. I touch my forehead to hers and stay there, my hand still resting over our child.

“There was never going to be anyone else once I met you,” I tell her.

The next contraction ends any chance of saying more.

Blair’s fingers clamp around mine, and I am back on my feet beside the bed. The intensity is different now. I can see it before the nurse checks anything, and within minutes the room becomes busier again. Dr. Mehta comes in, examines Blair, and tells us what we have both been waiting to hear.

It’s about time to start pushing.

Blair looks at me with a mixture of relief and alarm that would almost be funny under any other circumstances.

“This is actually happening.”

I brush the damp hair away from her face. “Yes, dolcezza. It is.”

The next stretch of time becomes both endless and impossibly fast. Nurses move around us calmly while I stay beside Blair, giving her my hand, my arm, my shoulder, anything she wants. She pushes when they tell her, rests when she can, and curses in a way that makes the nurse hide a smile.

I have seen Blair angry. I have seen her scared. I have watched her argue with men twice her size without giving them an inch. I have seen her stand in front of an entire room of Contis and hold her own as if she had been born into this family.

I have never seen anything like this.

She bears down again, face tightening with the effort while I keep one hand around hers and the other against her shoulder.

“You’re almost there,” Dr. Mehta tells her. “One more good push.”

Blair’s eyes find mine.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” I lean closer, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “Look at me. You’ve got this.”

Her grip tightens.

I keep my eyes on hers.

Then she pushes.

The sound that fills the room a few seconds later stops my heart.

A cry.

High, furious, unmistakably alive.

Everything inside me breaks open at once.

“Oh, my God,” Blair breathes.

Our son is lifted into view for only a second before they place him against her chest, and the entire world narrows to the two of them.

He is red-faced and outraged, his dark hair damp against his head, his tiny body pressed against Blair while she starts crying. His cries soften almost immediately when she touches him, one shaking hand spreading over his back while the other cups the back of his head.

I cannot move.

I thought I knew what this would feel like.

I had no idea.

Blair looks up at me through tears. “Diego.”