Page 250 of Diego

The nurse gives us more time before eventually taking Benjamin long enough to check him properly. I stay close enough to watch everything while Blair rests against the pillows, exhausted but unable to take her eyes off him.

Neither can I.

When they finally wrap him in a blanket and hand him to me, I have to remind myself how to breathe.

He weighs almost nothing.

That terrifies me more than holding a gun ever has.

I settle him against my chest exactly the way the nurse shows me, supporting his head with one hand while the other curves beneath his body. His face turns slightly toward me, eyes still closed, and his mouth makes a tiny movement as he resettles.

“Hello, Benjamin,” I murmur.

Behind me, Blair makes a soft sound.

I look over.

She is crying again.

“What?”

“You.”

I glance down at myself. “What about me?”

“You’re holding our son.”

The words hit me deeply.

I carry Benjamin back to the bed and sit beside her. Blair leans against my shoulder while I hold him between us, and for several minutes neither of us says much.

I look at Blair, then at Benjamin, and think about the man I was when my building was evacuated and I decided staying temporarily with my nephews was the biggest disruption I was willing to tolerate. I wanted my own space, my own schedule, my own silence. I liked a life where nobody depended on me beyond family obligations and business.

Then Blair Owens walked across a Meridian parking lot with black hair, impossibly long legs, and the confidence to tell me which houses were right for me.

Now my lake house is full of her things. There is a stroller waiting at the front entrance, bottles in the kitchen, diapers stacked upstairs, and a nursery waiting for the child sleeping against my chest. My life is louder than it has ever been.

I would not trade any of it.

Blair reaches over and touches Benjamin’s cheek with one finger.

“Do you think he looks like you?”

I study him with exaggerated seriousness. “Definitely handsome.”

She looks at me and narrows her eyes with the same exaggerated seriousness. “Yes, definitely.”

I laugh and kiss her temple while Benjamin shifts between us.

Outside this room, my family is waiting. Lorenzo and Donna will bring Aria, who is no longer the newest Conti baby. Victoria, who has just announced her own pregnancy, will likely break down into tears. Everybody else will fight for their turn to hold him. And back at the house, there will be a mountain of food waiting.

Soon, Benjamin will be passed through more arms than he knows exist.

Right now, he is ours.

I look down at my son and feel his tiny fingers curl around mine.

Blair rests her head against my shoulder.