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“You’re no trophy,” he said in a low, intense voice, “because you’re far more. You are my woman. My equal partner. My better half. My love. And if you’ll have me,” he said humbly, “my wife.”
She sucked in her breath. “Your—”
Then the new contraction hit, and she reached desperately for his hand. Rising to his feet, he took it immediately, holding it close, against his heart. The pain built sharply, leaving her gasping for breath.
For what seemed like hours, he held her hand unflinchingly, speaking to her in Spanish and English, calming her with his deep voice, giving her his strength, helping her through the pain. As the contraction finally subsided, the nurse checked her beneath the blanket, then gave a quick nod. “I’m going to get the doctor.”
Belle and Santiago were alone. She took a deep breath.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For being here. For our baby.”
His expression turned sad. “Just for the baby?” he said slowly. “It’s too late, isn’t it? I’ve
hurt you too badly to ever hope for forgiveness...”
She said in a trembling voice, “Do you really love me?”
Sudden, shocked hope lit his dark eyes.
“With everything I have. Everything I am. I love you.” Leaning over the hospital bed, he kissed her sweaty forehead tenderly. “Love me,” he whispered. “Forgive me. Marry me.”
Belle wondered if she was dreaming. Then she decided she didn’t care. “Yes.”
He drew back, looking down at her with joy. “You’ll marry me?”
Wordlessly, she nodded. Rushing to fling open the door, he called two people inside: a man dressed in a plain black suit and Letty, following behind, holding a bag from the hospital gift shop.
“This is John Alvarez, the hospital pastor,” Santiago told her. “He’s going to marry us.”
Her jaw dropped. “Right now?”
“What, are you busy?” he teased.
She snorted, then grew serious. “But...what about the big wedding you wanted?”
“We already have a license. I don’t want to live another moment without you as my wife.” He cupped her cheek. “I love you, Belle.”
A slow-rising smile lifted her lips.
“I love you too,” she whispered, tears falling down her face unheeded. Pulling on his hand, she brought him closer to the hospital bed and kissed him, laughing her happiness. Then she groaned, as she felt the next contraction begin to rise. “But we’d better do this fast.”
And so it was that, plain gold bands from the hospital gift shop were slipped within minutes on both their hands, and they were declared man and wife. And just in time.
“Anyone that’s not family, get out!” the nurse said, shooing the pastor and Letty into the hallway. In that moment, the doctor hurried into the room.
“All right, Belle,” the doctor said, smiling. “Are you ready to push?”
Forty-five minutes later, their daughter, named Emma Jamie Velazquez after the baby’s grandmother and grandfather, was brought into this world. A short while later, as Belle watched her husband—her husband!—hold their daughter, who was a fat eight pounds ten ounces, tenderly in his arms, she was overwhelmed with happiness.
“Someone wants to meet you,” Santiago said, smiling, and gently placed their newborn daughter in Belle’s arms.
As she looked down at their precious baby, the miracle she’d once thought she could never have, tears fell from Belle’s eyes that she didn’t even try to hide. She whispered, “She’s so beautiful.”
“Like her mother,” Santiago said. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead with infinite tenderness, then kissed their sleeping baby’s. He looked down at Belle—his wife—in the hospital bed. “I love you, Mrs. Velazquez.”
She caught her breath at hearing her name for the first time.
Letty peeked around the door into the room to make sure it was safe, then entered, beaming at the baby before she turned to Santiago. “Um, you forgive me for slapping you earlier, right? I feel kind of bad about it now.”
