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But still! He’s being such a damn man about this. “You do realize it’s the twenty-first century, right?” I give him my best, sassiest eyebrow arch. “I don’t belong to anyone but myself.” My words are hard, but something ignites in the middle of my chest, and it feels a lot like hope. Rudy has been beside me from the moment I stood up in that garden until now. Maybe even before that. Wasn’t he the one who took my cancer diagnosis in stride? Who still treated me like a beautiful, sexual woman? Who didn’t even hesitate to ask me if I needed a ride to the hospital?
I pushed him away because I didn’t think he could handle all the complications of being with me, but he’s been at the hospital every day for over a week now, practically living in my room. I’m pretty sure I bled all over his cousin’s car—which was another surprise, that Jared would so willingly hand his keys over, but I guess everyone is more complicated than they seem at first glance. He met my baby, and the awed look in his eyes matched the one he gave me when he felt my son kick. He looked like a proud father.
I think I might have misjudged Rudy. He’ll be able to handle all these complications after all.
Rudy leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. His hand is still wrapped around the back of my neck, and he holds me in place long enough that I can take in his scent. It makes me a little dizzy because he smells so good.
“You’re wrong,” he tells me. “You belong to me, and I belong to you. We’re moving in together, and I’m going to be the best father that kid could ever ask for, and the best man you could ever dream of.”
“Now you just sound arrogant,” I answer, but the fight is gone from my words.
Rudy pulls back an inch, and he must see the smile twitching at my lips because pure male triumph flashes in his eyes. “So,” he says. “My place or yours?”
“Yours,” I whisper. “Mine smells musty and it’s too small for the three of us, anyway.”
I grin at the flash in his eyes, then tilt my head up to catch his lips in a kiss. It lights me up all the way down to my toes, and I can’t help curling both arms around his neck, burrowing my fingers into his hair. He smells like man and strength and safety, and he’s all mine.
Epilogue
LILY
Rudy did an incredible job renovating his house.
Our house.
The whole place gleams with new wood floors and fresh paint, and after I agreed to move in, he tells me he even set up a nursery in the closest bedroom to the master.
That first evening we have together, I end up leaning against the kitchen counter more or less in the same place I stood when Agnes interrupted our hanky-panky session all those months ago.
Rudy puts his hands on the counter on either side of my hips, his face the picture of male contentment. “You’re here,” he says, running his nose up my neck and placing a kiss just under my jaw. “Finally.”
Curling my hands into his golden hair, I let out a shuddering breath. “I’m here.”
Later, when we move to the bedroom, I open the door and start laughing. Rudy’s arm curls around my shoulders and I feel his smile in the warmth of his touch.
“I like what you did with the place,” I say, eyes on all my throw pillows neatly arranged on Rudy’s much bigger bed.
“I’m nesting,” he replies, an echo of my words all those months ago. And when I turn in his arms to lay a kiss on his lips, the look in his eyes tells me it’s true.
If I ever had any doubts about Rudy, he obliterates them in the weeks after I give birth. It’s not a sexy time for me, I can say that much with absolute honesty. There’s bloody wounds and budding scars to add to my ever-growing collection. I’m exhausted, sleep deprived, and nowhere near the glamorous woman who kissed Rudy in the yacht club bathroom.
Rudy doesn’t seem to mind. Every night, he curls his arms around me and tucks me into his chest, and it feels like home.
Despite being born prematurely, we discover that Liam’s lungs are fine, because there’s no shortage of screaming and crying at all hours of the night. Caring for a newborn is just as difficult as everyone says, and I can hardly believe my luck at having Rudy by my side.
I’m sad I didn’t get to give birth, and I’m sad I don’t get to breastfeed, but those are disappointments I can bear, because the truth is, I’m a fighter. Both my baby and I survived the past few months together, and the only thing that matters is that we’re here.
One morning I wake up and realize that Rudy let me sleep in, because I find him in Trina’s old gliding rocking chair, feeding Liam a bottle. Leaning against the door jamb, I watch the two of them until Rudy glances up. He gives me a soft smile. “How’d you sleep?”
“I think I actually got six hours straight. I feel almost human.”
“You have an appointment with Dr. Gardner today, right?” His eyes move back to the baby, and he shifts his hold so Liam is tucked into the crook of his elbow. Rudy strokes the baby’s toes with infinite, tender care while holding the bottle to Liam’s mouth.
My heart clenches, but I manage to make my voice work. “Yeah. Ten o’clock.”
“I’ll drive you,” he says, and it’s a useless statement because Rudy has insisted on driving me everywhere since I got out of the hospital. “I can take Liam for a walk while you talk to Dr. Gardner, and then we can grab some lunch. What do you think?”
“I think that sounds good,” I whisper, emotion clogging my throat. I have a life here, and I don’t feel the need to book a trip to a new country. I’ll travel in the future, of course, but I hope I’ll do it with Rudy and Liam by my side.
