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The nurse helps me get Lara’s IV moved to one of those rolling carts, and carefully helps her into the wheelchair next to the bed. Then, I take her to see our baby girl. Seeing her hold our daughter in her arms, and Camille’s soft pink face look up at her mother with such a trusting innocence and awe, absolutely melts my heart.
“She reminds me of a quote I once read in a Shakespearean play,” Lara says as she stares at our daughter will adoration. “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” I reach down and smooth my finger against the side of Camille’s small cheek. “I’m ready to go home now,” she continues. “I want to start getting on with our happy ending.”
“You make it sound as if we’re riding off into the sunset of some fairytale,” I tease. “I’m not sure the mafiahasany fairytales in it.”
“Then consider our story its first,” she says as Camille coos in her arms. “Camille is the precious treasure at the end of it, and you’re my knight in shining armor.”
I definitely have a laugh at that rendition of me. “A knight?” I ask. “I don’t think I qualify as one of those guys. I think they keep their hands a lot cleaner than I’ve kept mine.”
Lara wraps Camille up in the soft blanket the nurse gives her and listens briefly to the discharge instructions given by the doctor. A grin grows on her face, and I wait to ask her what she’s smiling about until we leave. “I was just thinking about what you said,” she answers when I ask her about it while we get in the car to head home together. “Honestly, I always thought those knights in the storybooks were pussies anyways.”
I toss my head back and laugh, and then start to drive the three of us home. “So if I’m not a knight, then what am I?”
Without hesitation she answers, “You’re my brutal hero.”
