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“I know we started out as a farce,” he said, walking back over to me with the box in his hand. “But what if it didn’t have to stay that way.”
“What are you asking?” I inquired hesitantly.
“I’m asking you to marry me, for real. Not to pretend for your family, and not even because you're having my child. But because I love you, and I want to marry you.”
Joy. Unbridled, raw joy flitted through me, causing tears to rise to my eyes as I nodded.
“Yes.” I said simply, and Blake beamed.
He took the ring out of the box and slipped it on my finger.
Both of us paused for a moment to admire it before he brought his face to mine again.
Blake laid me down on the bed, kissing along my body and stripping off the rest of my clothes, not stopping until I was completely bare before him.
I gave myself over to him then.
Gave myself over to that moment and that man.
A man that I had known for so long but was only just coming to understand.
A man I admired who had been through more than most people could even guess.
A man who was now my fiancé.
I gave myself over to it all.
EPILOGUE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER | BLAKE
Nell’s gripcrushed mine as she screamed, her engagement ring and matching wedding band glinting on her finger as she bared down, pushing all over again.
We had gotten married three months ago, a small, intimate wedding with just the people closest to us, and I had never been happier.
Well, until now, that was.
“One more big push,” the doctor coaxed from between her legs. “I have the head.”
“You’re doing so amazing, Princess,” I cooed, kissing Nell’s forehead.
“This is your fault, you rat bastard,” she grunted as she barred down again.
Nell yelled with her final push, and the doctor cried out, “There she is.”
A high-pitched wail filled the air, and Nell panted her relief. Tears started to pour down my wife’s face, and she didn’t let go of my hand as she looked at me.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “You’re not a rat bastard. I love you.”
I laughed, pressing another kiss to her forehead as we listened to the doctors and the nurses tending to our daughter.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I whispered in her ear. “And I love you, too.”
“Here she is,” a nurse said from beside us, stealing our attention.
She held a small bundle of blankets in her arms. A sticky, bloody goo dotted parts of it, but I didn’t care as the woman approached us, dipping the bundle down and placing it in Nell’s extended arms.
No, not it.Her.
