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“Sorry, baby,” I apologize, knowing I should let her rest but unable to stop.
“Shut up and love me, Bryant,” she breathes, initiating our kiss and claiming my mouth with her own.
I don’t respond with words, but I show her with my body.
I’ll love her for the rest of my life and whatever life comes after that. Then again, I think she knows, and finally, years after we first said I do, I know that my Maggie loves me the same way.
Epilogue
Maggie
Three Years In the Future
I come out of the bathroom and look at Bryant. He’s sitting on the bed, his hair mussed and going in different directions. He’s wearing nothing but blue jeans and they’re unbuttoned at the waist. His feet are bare, and he looks sexy and sleepy—which is one of my favorite Bryant looks.
I walk slowly to him, putting the pregnancy test on the nightstand, and then I sit beside him. Instantly, Bryant pulls me up into his lap and cuddles me close.
“Now we wait,” he says, kissing my temple.
“Now we wait,” I agree.
I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. The results of that test will change everything, but it will also be proof that I’ve done a lot of healing since marrying Bryant. It hasn’t been easy, but with Bryant by my side, we pushed through. Bryant had a lot to work through, too, and I’m not even sure he realized it. We did it together, though, and we’ve had each other’s backs—which is everything.
I’m nervous to start our next journey together. But I feel I’m ready. I’ll be the first to say that I had Terry way too soon, my head too screwed up—but I don’t regret it. My only regret is that I didn’t give him the complete childhood he deserved. He’s always been happy and loved, though, and I’m proud of that. It may have taken Bryant and I a little while to get everything straightened out, but did—we did it really well.
“It’s going to be okay either way, you know, Maggie May,” Bryant says, squeezing my hand.
“I know, it’s just…”
“Just what, baby?” he prompts when I have to stop talking to swallow down my emotion.
“Now, that we’ve decided to have a child… I mean, I’m not getting any younger. What if I’ve waited too long?” I murmur, voicing my biggest worry.
“Maggie, come on, you’re not old,” Bryant discounts, lifting my head so that I have no choice but to look at him.
“You remember how hard it is to raise a child, Bryant. Terry is just now discovering girls, and he’s going to be trouble because no offense, honey, but that boy’s Lucas genes are really strong.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking worried. For some reason, that makes me laugh.
“So, we’ll be dealing with that and potty training all at the same time,” I respond with a sigh, panicking.
“And we’ll do it perfectly,” Bryant assures me. He kisses me and I let him distract me, erasing all the nerves and doubts I’m having.
He’s right, of course. We will do great at raising another child. If we are having one…
“There’s a chance I might not be pregnant…” I remind him because, honestly, we’ve only been trying for a couple of months.
“Is it time yet?” he asks.
I look at the clock and nod.
“Then, let’s check, baby.”
“You do it,” I whisper, scared to look.
“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead, making me smile. He always has me—even when I didn’t deserve his love, he gave it. He tells me all the time that he’s the one that messed up all those years ago. I never agree, but I love that he thinks so. In the end, it boiled down to the fact that we were really young, and grief caused us to lose our way.
But we found our way back to each other and that’s all that matters.
I take a deep, shaky breath as Bryant looks at the pregnancy test.
When he turns to look at me, his face is unreadable.
“Bryant?” I ask. A smile finally forms on his face and then deepens. I take a breath and tears sting my eyes.
“We’re pregnant, Maggie May,” he announces, and I hurl myself into his arms.
He hugs me close and holds me while I cry. He’s done that before.
But these are definitely happy tears.
“We’re going to have a baby,” I sob, joy pushing through me and making me feel as if the sun is shining just on me and Bryant.
“We are,” Bryant says, pulling back to look at me.
“Have I ever told you that I love you, Maggie May?”
“Maybe once or twice, but I sure would like to hear it again,” I respond, playing along.
He surprises me by opening the nightstand drawer and grabbing a jewelry box that I had no idea was there. “I got you a little something…”
