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“What is it?” he says, and then his eyes flit to the pregnancy test in my hand.
My heart gives a quiver at the look that takes ownership of his face, as though he doesn’t want to let himself dare to believe, as though he can’t let himself just in case he’s gotten it wrong.
But then I rush forward, showing him the test, unable to find the words when the sob cracks in my throat.
“Positive,” he whispers.
And then he yells, joy dancing in his voice.
“Positive. We’re pregnant. We’re pregnant.”
He cheers and pulls me into his arms, spinning me around and around. I giggle and hold onto him, clasping my hands tight onto his firm shoulders, knowing he’ll never let me fall, knowing he’ll never even come close to letting me fall.
“I love you so much,” he says, face red and smiling wide when we finally stop spinning. “More than anything, Natalie.”
“I love you too,” I whisper.
“I can’t wait to meet our child. I can’t wait to listen to you sing them to sleep. I can’t wait to give them the lives we never had growing up.”
I can’t speak again, his words causing more tears to surge up inside of me. So instead I push my lips against his, the passion and love and hope burning between us.
Extended Epilogue
Ten Months Later
Nick
I stand at the door to Miracle’s room, watching silently as Natalie sits next to her crib.
I love watching my wife and my daughter when they don’t know I’m here. I love how focused Natalie is on her, even when she’s sleeping.
We chose the name Miracle because everything about us was a miracle, from meeting in the way we did to falling in love so instantly, so perfectly, to conceiving our first child.
My woman’s hair is tangled and messy around her shoulders and she’s wearing a baggy T-shirt. But she could be wearing a garbage bag and my passion would still stir at the sight of her, at the scent of her, the everything of her.
It’s only the sight of Miracle’s crib that stops me from charging in there and taking her breasts in my hands.
Ever since giving birth, my woman goes wild when I play with her nipples, twitching and moaning when I touch them, lick them, tease them.
The room still has the Christmas decorations up, even though it’s January because neither of us is willing to let go of the holiday. We were both lukewarm about Christmas once, but ever since we fell in love on that special holiday, a new passion for it has ignited inside of us.
I just know no other holiday is ever going to compare.
Christmas is always going to be a big event in our house.
My smile widens when one of my woman’s songs starts playing from the bedroom down the hall. I’ve set it as my alarm because there’s nothing sweeter than my wife’s voice. There’s a studio in the city and she was there all through the pregnancy, recording little snippets at first, and then full length songs.
She’s going to release a Christmas album next year, and I can’t wait.
Forget elf. She has the voice of an angel.
I normally wake up before the alarm, but I never disable it, always wanting to hear her voice.
She turns and a little jolt goes through her. “Oh, I didn’t know you were there.”
I grin and swagger over to her. “I’m always here, Natalie. Even when I’m not.”
She giggles quietly. “You know, Saint Nick, I think you might be the most romantic man I’ve ever met.”
I lean down and wrap my arms around her, pressing my cheek against hers so we can both look down at our daughter, at our little Miracle. She sleeps peacefully, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling softly.
“I could watch her forever,” Natalie whispers.
“I don’t have work today,” I say quietly, kissing her cheek. “So why don’t we?”
She reaches up and grasps onto my face, holding me in that way I recognize well in my wife, that never-want-to-let-go way.
“I love you both, so much,” I tell her.
“And not just for Christmas?”
I chuckle. “Forever and ever, for the rest of our lives.”
“We love you too,” she whispers.
Extended Epilogue
Eight Years Later
Natalie
“Mom, where is he?” Miracle whispers from beside me, so the twins won’t hear.
We’re standing at the edge of our wide open plan living room, with its faux-reindeer antlers mounted on the walls and big open fireplace. Our beautiful three year old boys – Paul and Timmy – sit with their legs crossed, elbows pressed against their knees, waiting more patiently than I’ve ever seen them.
My heart swells with love every time I look at my children when I think about the crazy fact they came from me. It never gets less magical, no matter how often it occurs to me.
The living room is flooded with Christmas decorations, lights glittering across the mantelpiece, snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and a giant tree in the corner. Snow glazes the window and the scent of turkey hovers in the air, tempting us all.
