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She looked down at the babe, tears in her eyes. “Our girl.”
It wasn’t but a minute later when the midwife set into his hands a screaming babe, lungs mighty. “And here is your boy.”
Evan’s knees nearly buckled, and he sank to the side of the bed as he took his son into his hands.
A daughter. A son.
The many months waiting. Preparing. Hoping.
The hours of suffering his wife’s tortured screams, helpless to do anything but hold her hand.
All of that, and it came down to minutes. Minutes where the world shifted around them.
Life back into Whetland castle where there had been none.
Life, unspoiled and sparkling and angry and hungry, ripe with the possibilities of the entire world.
Life anew, becoming the very air around them.
Life as it always should have been.
His life.
